Author's Note: Yay, the holiday crazies are over. Woo hoo! I have another chapter done! Double woo hoo!
X: Embracing the Inner Yogi
Rodney wasn't used to waking up slowly by degrees. If anything, he was used to waking up with something screaming in his ear – his alarm clock, emergency alarms promising a meltdown in one of the labs, Zelenka or Grodin shouting over the radio about eminent meltdowns…. So, for the moment, he just relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of drifting slowly awake. It was a lot like floating in a warm swimming pool – he felt weightless and completely comfortable and quite honestly he didn't want the sensation to end. But then the little aches and pains started to wake up as well, and actually, those weren't that bad. His muscles were stiff and sore like he'd been, God forbid, exercising, and he rolled over onto his back and stretched his arms out to the side, then in front of him.
Something ripped down his back.
Rodney's eyes shot open and the first thing he registered was his nose. It was still brown and bearish. As he was waiting for the pain of whatever tore in his back to register, the second thing he noticed was weak sunlight coming in through the windows on the far end of the infirmary. He sat up abruptly and stared down and his still furry arms and clawed hands, his stubby legs…. Oh hell no, this was so not right….
A soft snort to his left distracted him briefly from his impending panic attack. His head whipped that way and he saw Sheppard sprawled on the next bed. His head was at the foot, cheek pressed to the bed and whiskers limp. His right arm dangled limply over the side, and his claws were partially extended from total boneless relaxation that only a cat seems capable of. The white bandage on that arm had several dark spots, and Rodney flinched guiltily.
A quick glance showed no one else in the infirmary at the moment, so he leaned forward a little and hissed, "Sheppard. Sheppard! Are you awake?" He saw the dangling hand twitch, but that was all. "Sheppard!" he said a little louder, then threw a pillow at him.
It bounced off John's head and dropped to the floor, and one green eye cracked open. "Go back to sleep, Ro'ney," he mumbled into the mattress.
"I'm still a, a, a, a bear!"
John rubbed his face against the mattress and groaned. "The moon hasn't set." He remained faceplanted and his words were barely understandable. Then he fumbled blindly with his dangling arm, snagged the pillow, and put it over his head.
"And when is that?" Rodney's voice rose almost an entire octave.
The pillow rose as John lifted his head and checked his watch. "An hour and … twelve minutes." Then he flipped the pillow back at Rodney. "So, chill."
Rodney caught it before it wrapped around his head, and he grinned at how fast he had moved to do it. He flung it back. Hard. The good, solid whumpf it made as it wrapped around Sheppard's head and stayed made him grin even broader.
John lifted his arm and flipped Rodney off.
"I cannot leave you two alone for five minutes."
Rodney started guiltily at Teyla's tone, and he turtled his now pretty much non-existent neck at the incredibly amused expression on her face as she came back from the staff lounge, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.
Teyla patted his foot as she walked between the beds. Then she pushed John's legs to the side and settled cross-legged at the head of the bed he was sprawled across. He grumbled from underneath the pillow and shifted to give her more room, but not after he nudged her with one foot. She just lightly smacked him on the thigh and smiled at Rodney. "How are you feeling this morning, Rodney?"
Rodney blinked at the utter casualness of that little scene and wondered if something was going on between them…. Teyla narrowed her eyes at him. "Um, pretty good, actually," he quickly spat out. He stretched his arms again to hide his embarrassment and felt the back of his scrub top flap loosely. Ah, that was what ripped. "A little sore, but not bad." His stomach growled. "And hungry. Very hungry."
There came a muffled snort and an equally muffled, "S'not surprising." Shortly followed by a muffled hey as Teyla flicked one of his toes.
"I am sure we can have some breakfast sent up for you." She focused past Rodney and nodded. "Right, Carson?"
Carson was just leaving the staff lounge, too, and he had two mugs with him. Rodney's super sensitive smell caught coffee – one definitely with sugar – as the groggy Scot got closer. "All ready ordered," Carson said as he handed the black coffee to Rodney. "Should be here shortly."
Rodney wasn't aware he was growling softly as he reached for the mug until Carson flinched and slopped some over the rim. He let out a short startled roar as hot coffee hit the sensitive pads of his hands and pulled back. Something in his head reacted as well, and he growled even deeper and bared his teeth. But unlike down in the quarantine rooms, this time he leaned forward and snapped at Carson.
"McKay!"
The tone made Rodney snap his head toward Sheppard, and he could feel hair bristling down his back as he showed teeth and growled again. John had pushed himself up onto his hands, and his legs were under him and tensed and ready to launch him at any second. He had his teeth bared as well, whiskers flattened, and his eyes were dilated and intent.
"Stand. Down."
John delivered each word in a growl that sent shivers clean through Rodney and he felt the shadow in his brain cringe. That let his own thoughts snap back online, and he found he was cringing back into his remaining pillows as well, paws up in a defensive posture. It wasn't until the first whimper escaped him that he realized he was holding his chin up to expose his throat, too. That freaked him out, and he started hyperventilating.
"Oh, crap." Carson quickly sat the mugs down and held his hands up. "Sorry, Rodney." He stood still, and it was clear from his expression that he was afraid to approach.
Teyla slid off the bed in a fluid, almost dancer-like movement and was by Rodney's side. She gently took one of his hands in hers and held it tight. "Shhh. Focus on my touch, Rodney." Rodney's wide blue eyes met her copper ones as he gulped for air. "That's it, focus. You are strong. You are in control. Now, breathe." She joined him in his first deep, shaky breath. "Yes. That's it."
John could feel all the fur from the crest of his head to the small of his back standing on end. He swore he could damn near see the shadow of the bear spirit over Rodney, and he did not relax until Teyla had the physicist calm and breathing normally again. He sank back down onto his stomach but remained propped up on his elbows. He lowered his head and yawned as the surge of adrenaline backed off, and decided that little scare was the best cure for morning wood than anything…. He caught an amused snort in the back of his mind and his head snapped up in time to catch the edge of Teyla's smirk as she let go of Rodney's hand. He lowered his head again and was very glad his blushing didn't show up as clearly as Rodney's did in his new bear form. She sat down on the bed again, and he resisted the urge to look at her because he just knew that little smirk was back in place.
Rodney didn't notice any of the brief exchange – he was giving Carson the equivalent of puppy-dog, no, bear-cub eyes and apologizing profusely. Carson finally had to shush him by carefully handing over the mug of coffee. "It's all right, Rodney." He held the mug out, handle first, in a peace offering.
Rodney took it in shaking paws and held it as if it would shatter like a thousand year old egg shell. Only then did he glance at Sheppard and read the man's mild discomfort. He shrank down into himself. "Sorry."
John replied with slightly narrowed eyes and a gentle tap on his temple with one sheathed claw.
"Right. Right. Use my head. Keep thinking. You would think that I, of all people, could do that without any effort whatsoever." He shrank down even more and slurped noisily at his coffee and winced. It was hard to drink politely with rubbery bear lips, unless it was a bottle – that was one of the odd little things he learned about his new body last night. Then his nose started twitching and he caught the smell of breakfast before it even came into the room.
John picked it up a moment later and turned to see Keller wheeling a cart in with several covered trays. And she was grinning … perkily. Lorne and Ronon were with her, and everyone looked disgustingly awake. But there was a carafe of coffee on the thing – for that he'd forgive Teyla and Carson for not bringing him a cup. He caught another amused giggle and sent a mental pout at Teyla.
Another low growl sounded behind him and whipped back around, but this time it was only Rodney's stomach. He saw Rodney had frozen and was staring at him with huge eyes over his coffee mug, so he very consciously relaxed, then chuffed in amusement a second later. That made Rodney snort and relax himself.
Then breakfast arrived, and it was agreed by unspoken consensus that Rodney got his food first.
-oOo-
A little over an hour later Rodney was beginning to regret having eaten. His gut was churning from nerves and he wondered how in the hell he was going to manage the bathroom if he did a repeat of what happened in Sheppard's quarters. How, for Pete's sake, was he going to, well, wipe with two inch claws without causing serious damage? Was he going to have just, just sit there until he changed back and it was going to be easier with normal hands? Or, heaven forbid, have someone help? And even though he hadn't looked, he just knew he was incredibly furry now, well, there, and that presented logistics that were just too nasty to contemplate at the moment. He crossed his arms and chewed on his thumb claw until he saw Carson watching him and frowning in worry.
"You're fidgeting like a three-year-old," Carson said. "Do you want something to, ah, help?"
Rodney shook his head – they discussed it when Carson took his blood pressure a few minutes before, which was only slightly elevated, and he was adamant that he could go through this without any drug induced help. Especially since Sheppard reassured him it wouldn't be anywhere near as bad as before. He cast a furtive glance at Teyla – she and Sheppard were sitting side by side on the bed, she cross-legged and him with his knees drawn up and his toes sort of draped over the edge – and received a warm smile in return.
John was preoccupied with the bandage on his right arm. He split the tape with one claw and started unwinding it, and Keller let out a strangled exclamation. "Oh, hey – stop that," she finally managed to get out as she stomped over to him. He just ignored her and started unwrapping the gauze with enthusiasm.
For a moment Rodney got distracted as Sheppard did his best impression of a big old tomcat shredding its owner's scarf. John glanced up briefly past his eyebrows at him, and the mischievous smirk he caught made him snort. Then Keller blocked his view.
John turned away from her and she put her hands on her hips. "Now look here, buster." She tried to look stern, but she failed as he stuck his bottom lip out and got the last of the bandage off. "All right, fine." She held a hand out. "At least let me see." He held his arm out with a smug feline grin. A few of the butterfly closures were still attached to crusted fur, but the four scabbed over gashes now looked about five days old. "Holy crap!"
Ronon and Lorne both broke out laughing because she said it just like Carson, while Carson crossed his arms and frowned. Rodney even snorted and for a moment forgot how surreal the last twelve hours had been.
"Okay, stupid question – how come you didn't heal this fast last Fall?" she asked as she carefully picked closures off his fur.
"Well, probably because last Fall I had injuries a lot worse than a few superficial scratches." And I hadn't shifted in close to twenty years, so my body kind of forgot it was vargyr…. He caught a surprised exclamation in his mind from Teyla and tried not to glance that way. He scratched carefully at the crusted fur – yeah, that was going to pull like a mother when he shifted back to human.
John's watch alarm went off, then about four seconds later Carson's did as well. When they shut them down, Rodney let out a shaky breath. "Let me guess – two minute warning?" His gut did a slow roll.
"More like ten minute warning," Carson replied. "Which should give us plenty of time to go back downstairs if you want. Up to you."
Rodney carefully sat his empty coffee mug on the rolling table with his empty breakfast dishes. Not taking his eyes off of his paw hands wrapped around his tiny ceramic life preserver he said, "Are you positive it won't hurt as bad as before?"
John knew the question was directed at him. "I'm sure. There will be some discomfort…."
"Okay, I've been around enough doctors to know that if they use the term 'discomfort', it's going to hurt like hell and then some." Wide blue eyes focused on Sheppard's green ones. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"
"Yeah. But you're not going to feel like you've been ripped apart and slapped back together again."
"Hmmm. Still not convinced." Rodney looked at Carson. "I think I'd like to stay here. People are … up now." Quite honestly, the thought of walking through the halls right now scared the crap out of him. He couldn't handle it if someone saw him and freaked.
Carson nodded. "John, could you pull the curtain there behind you?" John rolled backwards off the bed and pulled the privacy curtain out enough to block the view of anyone peeking into the infirmary. Just before he got it in place, he saw Caldwell step in and head their way. Carson pulled the curtain on the other side, and when he saw the Colonel he started faintly. "Colonel, is there a … problem?"
Caldwell shook his head. "No, none at all." He looked at Rodney. "I just stopped by to see how you were doing, Dr. McKay."
And be nosey, Rodney thought, because seriously, his timing was just too coincidental, but instead replied, "I doing good." He swallowed. The new head of security made him nervous. Not nervous in a oh-God-we're-all-going-to-be-murdered-in-our-sleep kind of way that Kolya made him nervous. No, this was more of a – he might as well use the term since apparently it was going to be a part of his life from now on – alpha kind of thing. The man screamed commander, that's for sure. And he didn't need to use his new animal senses to feel the tension between him and Sheppard. "Let me guess – truth be told, you came for the show. Right?"
Caldwell crossed his arms and studied Rodney for a moment before answering. "As a matter of fact, yes."
"Huh." So, he was being honest…. Rodney lifted his chin. "Well, I think you might be in for some disappointment. I don't think I'll be hackey-sacking Snagglepuss off of anything this time."
John chuffed disgustedly as he hopped back up onto the bed next to Teyla and pulled his feet up again. "You better not, Yogi."
"Though I wish I could remember that little bit. I bet it was hi-larious." Long claws waggled as he flashed a smug grin at Sheppard.
Lorne rocked on his heels. "I'm pretty sure we can arrange a viewing from the security feed for you, doc." He looked to Caldwell for permission, and the Colonel nodded. "I'll burn you a copy."
"Cool." Rodney took in a deep breath and let it out in a big heavy sigh. He was starting to get used to the scent thing – he could tell things were tense, but not overly so, and that made him relax a little more. But then he felt an odd little twinge in the back of his head, followed shortly by tingling all over his skin. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, but it sure tickled. He carefully scratched at his arms – didn't want to rip his skin open like he did to, oh hell, Sheppard's. He looked at the man, and saw he had perked up. "Um, hey – I think it's starting."
Caldwell shifted a casual half step back.
John lowered his feet and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Itch?"
"Tickle."
John drew his lips in and nodded. "I only notice that if I think about it."
The said tickle was spreading, and Rodney clamped his hands down under arms, just the way Sheppard usually crossed his. "In other words, I should get used to it, huh?" He got another nod. "So, um, how do you, ah…." One hand came out briefly to make a quick circular c'mon motion before getting trapped again. "…Change back?"
John frowned and cocked his head. He seemed completely unaware that all the attention in the room was focused on him at the moment. "You know, I've never really thought about it. I just…." Now his hands came up as he fished for words. "I sort of … just … 'will' it to happen? Um…." His nose wrinkled a moment before he seemed to light up. "Okay, it's kind of like this – I think of my true vargyr self as my 'inner jaguar'. When I want to Change, it's like I open up a, a door, here…." John tapped the center of his chest. "And let it out. The body just does the rest. Works in the opposite direction, too." He Changed, the process maybe taking two seconds at the most, then yelped and started rubbing his right forearm. Flakes and pieces of dried blood rained to the floor, and he shrugged guiltily at the glares he was getting from Carson and Keller.
"That … doesn't really help," Rodney said.
John shrugged. "Sorry, that's the best I can do."
Teyla gently cleared her throat. "Allow me." John raised an eyebrow at her, and she raised one right back. "Your people aren't the only ones able to change their form at will – the Fae have been masters of shape-shifting for millennia."
"Yeah, charmed," John said rather dismissively.
Rodney's own eyes lit up. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You can shape-shift?"
"No, I cannot," Teyla replied. "It would require extensive training, and alas, I do not have the aptitude for that particular form of magic."
"Magic?" Rodney's exclamation was echoed by several others.
John snorted and Teyla actually flashed him an irritated scowl. "Yes, Rodney – magic. As Halling once explained it to me, shape-shifting is actually a form of possession. The one who wishes to change actually allows a spirit, or small essence, of the animal they wish to become into their own aura, and then mold their aura, and their body, to that form with a spell. For the cursed, that spirit is forced onto the victim like a contagion, and the full moon releases it."
Rodney blinked as his mind churned over two words in an endless loop – possession, and contagion – while completely and totally ignoring that magic thing. Both, in their own way were treatable. One through drugs, the other through an exorcist. The first one, doable, the second one…. That would require some research, but this was Atlantis, for crap's sake. They had access to every digital database known to mankind, and some extras the rest of the planet didn't even know about. Hell, Zelenka probably….
The tickling became a burn, and Rodney's internal dialogue came to an abrupt halt as a wave of cramps hit his belly. He doubled over and for a second thought he was going to lose his breakfast all over his legs. But it backed off, and he let out a quiet little, "Ow?" And Teyla was right there, a hand on his back. He scrunched his eyes shut and kept his arms wrapped around his middle as waves of lesser cramps started, well, everywhere. It felt like his muscles were fluttering under his skin, skin that had been hit with a band sander and mercurochrome, and the only thing that was keeping him from screaming was Teyla's cool touch on his back. He started rocking back and forth and did not care at all that he was whimpering. There was a touch on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes just long enough to see it was Carson.
"Hang in there, McKay – it's about thirty seconds to moon set," John said as he moved around to the foot of Rodney's bed. He leaned down so he could see Rodney's face. "You can do it."
Rodney was huffing and puffing like a pregnant woman twenty hours into labor, but he did manage to get out between pants, "Have I … ever told you … how much I hate … Adam Sandler movies?"
John chuffed. "What, you don't like 'Happy Gilmore'?"
Rodney growled. "The only thing … believable … in that … was Bob Barker … kicking his ass." The last word ended with a drawn out hiss and a full body cramp that had Rodney actually touching his nose to a knee, his skin exploding into flame – at least that's what it felt like – then … nothing.
He passed out.
He didn't know how much time had passed before he opened his eyes, but when he did, he was drenched in sweat and shivering a little, and floating from an endorphin high that left him feeling like he was floating above the bed again. At least this time he got to enjoy it without pain slapping him back down. He blinked up at all the concerned faces looking down at him. Hell, even Caldwell was frowning in concern instead of just frowning. "Wha'?"
"You fainted, Rodney," Carson said as he wrapped a cuff around a pink skinned human arm.
"I did not." He was watching Carson wrap the blood pressure cuff around his pink skinned human arm. He had to reach out and touch his own arm to reassure himself he wasn't hallucinating.
"All right, then – you blacked out from shape-shifting stress, for about a minute," Keller added from the other side of the bed. She had Sheila in hand, and a moment later in Rodney's ear. "Slightly elevated. We'll check again later once you've had the chance to get reacquainted with yourself." Ronon snorted, and got a scowl from her. "And you can get your mind out of the gutter."
Ronon just raised his hands and shook his head.
Actually, Rodney was thinking along those lines – he really needed to use the restroom. But Carson grunted at the BP reading and he snapped his head that way. "What?" It came out a bit panicked.
"Slightly elevated as well," Carson said as he unfastened the cuff with a quick burr of Velcro. "But understandable considering your body just basically remade itself." He draped his stethoscope around his neck. "We'll check that again as well. I just want to get another blood sample…."
"Haven't you taken enough, Vlad?"
"I've only taken one before your change, one while you were changed, and now one more since you've changed back." Carson blinked, then grinned. "Bloidy hell, I haven't used the word 'change' that many times since my wee niece had triplets last year."
"Well, I'm glad you're amused at your own word play, but the one fanged vampire has to wait. I need the, um, to use the …."
"Little bear's room?" Lorne supplied.
Rodney sneered at him as he sat up. "Don't you have someplace you have to be?"
Caldwell was smirking. "He is right – you two are officially on the clock."
"Yes, Sir," Lorne replied. He didn't look the least bit chastised.
"See ya at lunch, McKay," Ronon said as he and Lorne left. Caldwell followed.
Rodney swung his legs around, and when he stood a wave a dizziness about made him sit again. Carson caught his elbow. "Thanks," Rodney muttered then was hightailing it to the bathroom.
He took his time, too, because he wanted to make sure everything came back as it should.
When he came back out Carson was waiting for him, and had another scrub top for him to change into. Rodney quickly peeled off the torn oversized one – it hung on him like a hospital Johnny because just the neck band was still intact – and slipped into the dry one. He held up the other. "Wow, I can't believe I did that." His eyes were bright, and his mouth quirked into a smug little grin.
"That is impressive," Carson replied as he took it from his friend, wadded it up, and threw it in the nearest garbage can. "And I'm going to be honest with you – you scared the utter shite out of me this morning." When Rodney's eyes got huge, and it looked like he was on the verge of just crumpling from guilt, Carson clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder and gave him a shake. "But I know this is only the first change. It will get better as you gain more control."
"But what if I don't, Carson? What if this, this thing does take over?"
Carson turned to look Rodney right in the eyes. "I could still see you in your eyes, Rodney. I don't know how to explain it, but when you snapped at me, I could honestly tell it wasn't you." Then he glanced towards the end of the room and where John, Teyla, and Jenn were waiting for them. "And I think Sheppard is going to make bloidy damn sure that bear in you behaves."
Rodney glanced that way as well. "The thing is scared of him, that's for sure."
"Are you?"
Rodney frowned. And thought. "No. No, not really." He was used to thinking in equations, not emotions, so it took a moment to put words to the ideas that were bouncing around in his head. "It isn't a, a fear thing, either, though there is some of that. It's more like a … respect? Um, respect born out of the innate knowledge that he'd kick my ass into the next century if I didn't, ah, show some respect?" He growled in frustration. "It's an alpha thing. I think. I don't know." And that really pissed him off. He was the most brilliant man on the planet, and he couldn't even begin to explain what the hell was going on.
"Maybe you should talk to one of the wildlife biologists."
"I might have to." They started shuffling towards the end of the infirmary. "Or start watching Animal Planet."
-oOo-
After the final blood draw, and blood pressure reading (normal), and temperature (still a little elevated, take two Tylenol and check back after lunch), Rodney was released from the infirmary. John and Teyla escorted him back to his own quarters, and everyone was trying hard to contain grins. Rodney stopped outside his door and faced them. "I'm going to go down to my lab after I shower and change. And can focus again."
"Would you like company?" Teyla asked.
"No, no." Rodney's smile threatened to split his cheeks. "I'm … great!"
John chuffed and shook his head, his own grin pretty happy as well. "We'll come get you for lunch."
"Okay." Rodney disappeared into his quarters, humming happily and damn near bouncing.
John and Teyla looked at each other, and John let out an exaggerated sniff. "Our boy's all growed up."
Teyla giggled as they turned and headed for the elevators. "I am very proud of him."
John chuffed. "Yeah, it went a whole hell of a lot better than I expected." He stuck his hands in the pockets of his poor torn sweats. Damn, and it was one of his really comfy pairs, too. "He's certainly a lot tougher than he looks." They arrived at the elevators and he hit the down button.
"The bear spirit was incredibly strong," Teyla said. "I was worried there at first. But he is handling it very well, I think."
"Yeah." The light above the door next to them lit and they stepped into that car. John hit the button for their floor and leaned against the side wall. "It seems to be listening to him, too. I think you were right about his genius thing." He shook his head and grinned. "Holy shit. He can talk!"
"That was a very surprising development, indeed." The door opened and they stepped out onto their floor, but stayed in the small foyer. "You did very well, also, John."
John rubbed his neck and glanced at her from underneath his eyelashes. "I didn't do anything…."
"Yes, you did. If you had not corralled the bear spirit before the Change, I believe things would have turned out differently. Tragically."
John put his hand back into his pocket and could feel his ears burn. "All I did was just do an … alpha thing I've seen others do in the past." He shrugged. "No biggee. Yell, throw your weight around, pheromones – just vargyr dominance crap."
Teyla put a hand on John's forearm. "It was much more than that, and you know it." Before she could say more someone rounded the corner and she stiffened a fraction. "We'll talk more later, after lunch perhaps?"
John's eyebrows quirked faintly at the sudden shutdown he felt from her. "Um, sure. Later," he said to her back as she turned to go to her own quarters. Then a wave of mint and sunflowers and melon shampoo washed over him from behind. He grinned – he knew who that was. He turned and saw Carlita Espinoza standing just down the hall. "Hey."
"Hey," Carly replied. "I, ah, didn't interrupt something, did I?" She leaned a little to see past John. Teyla had already rounded the corner.
"Um, no." John ambled over to her. "So, what's up?" She smiled at him, and he felt himself smile goofily back – her dimples were fantastic.
"I was just seeing if you were back yet." Her smile faded. "How is Dr. McKay?"
"He's fine. Came through without a hitch." He pulled his right hand back out of his pocket and make a little smooth sailing motion. "Flying colors. And he was actually cheerful when we left him at his … door." He noticed Carly was staring at his arm in mild horror. "Things got a little rambunctious, but it's good." Then she was staring at the long rip in his sweats, and the corner of her mouth rose. His ears started to get warm again.
"Ah, I … see." She looked at his arm again and shook her head.
"It's just a flesh wound. Really."
Carly drew her lips in and sighed. "You need to work on that accent." Then she tapped him on the bicep. "Speaking of which, when are you going to come watch 'The Holy Grail' with me?" She gave him a little pout and looked up through her thick eyelashes at him.
"Oh, crap, I forgot about that." They had been discussing Monty Python one morning at breakfast, and how he hadn't seen that particular movie since college. He offered her a faint smile. "How about after the full moon?" He quickly went over his schedule in his head. "Um, next Wednesday?"
Dimples flashed again. "It's a date. You bring the beer, I'll supply the popcorn."
Something inside of John did a little flip-flop – he was pretty sure his inner jaguar just rolled over and showed its belly. "Cool." He smiled and saw Carly blush faintly. It was very … cute on her, he had to admit.
"I have to get back to the lab," she said. "If Dr. McKay is back to normal…." She shrugged. "No rest for us underlings, I'm afraid." She suddenly rose up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on a stubbly cheek. "I'm glad you're all right." Then she dashed for the stairwell, her cheeks crimson.
John just stood there for a moment, his mouth slightly open. He could tell from her scent that lingered that she was more than just embarrassed. It brought the goofy grin back as he headed for his quarters. The second his door opened, however, his grin disappeared when another smell hit him. He was going to have to get that spot steamer before his shower after all.
-oOo-
Rodney was more than ready for lunch when just Teyla showed up to get him. "Um, where's Sheppard?"
"He was returning a steamer to janitorial," she replied. "He will meet us in the atrium."
"Oh." He felt a little wave of guilt which was compounded by the faint odor of carpet cleaner he could smell on her. There was something else as well, but he couldn't place it. Then he swabbed a little lip balm under his nose and lost it completely. He wasn't about to take any chances with bad smells – he found that he was even more sensitive now. "Okay."
They did meet him outside the cafeteria, and for a second Rodney could feel a little tension between them. Actually, mostly from Teyla, and it confused the hell out of him because she had her normal enigmatic smile in place. Hell, most women confused the crap out of him, and apparently the Sidhe weren't any different. But something was off between them, that he damn well knew.
Zelenka was already at their regular table, looking through a newspaper when they walked up. He quickly folded it up and set it aside as Teyla sat across from him. She smiled at him, and he ducked his head almost shyly. Rodney looked strangely at him as he sat down next to him. This was the guy that scored with Dr. Hasloo, what, not quite three weeks ago? What the hell? Zelenka saw him staring at him, and he just stuck his lips out faintly and shrugged. "Pavle sends his best wishes and is glad you are doing well. And he said that if you have any questions that you can call him, no matter what time of day. I will forward his number to you."
"Um, okay." Rodney actually was touched by that. And he was seriously considering the offer, even though he did have Sheppard to talk to. Another set of eyes was always helpful. Not that he'd ever admit he'd want a second opinion. He glanced past Sheppard and saw Carson, Lorne, Keller, and Ronon entering. Carson nodded at him, and Rodney returned it as he unrolled his silverware. Correction, stainless steel ware. He suddenly wondered what would really happen if he did touch real silverware. Break out in hives? Twitch and foam at the mouth? Would an epipen actually help? Naw, that was too morbid to contemplate right now. First, food. He couldn't believe how damn hungry he was, and he had a pretty sizeable breakfast just a few hours before.
The rest of the gang joined, and soon it was a typical lunch hour full of laughter and smart-ass comments. Everyone seemed particularly relaxed, no one more so than Rodney. He didn't realize how much he had missed this, this camaraderie while he was sequestered in his lab. The lip balm trick really helped, too. Carson was sitting next to him, and at one point he caught his friend just beaming at him. He grinned back because damn, he just felt good.
Everyone was pretty much done eating and Rodney noticed Sheppard hadn't touched the piece of chocolate cake he'd snagged for dessert. "Ooo, are you going to eat that?" he asked and started reaching for it before he even finished the sentence. John narrowed his eyes, and the low, incredibly deep growl that rumbled up out of him brought dead silence to the table. Rodney froze, sniffed, his brain went into overdrive, told him that it wasn't a threat, just sounded that way, and John was actually in a, well, playful mood. All of that in the space of a blink, so Rodney grabbed Zelenka's folded paper, partially stood, and whapped him soundly on top of his cowlicks. "Bad kitty," he said and sat back down.
Now all motion stopped at the table, too, except for John – he did an odd little head shake and blinked at Rodney. The stillness was eerie, and for a second Rodney thought he just may have read things wrong and overstepped his bounds.
Keller broke the silence. "Rodney, that only works for dogs. You do this to cats." She ran her hand down her bottle of water to gather up some of the condensation and flicked it across the table at John. "That works for cats. That, or a squirt bottle."
John blinked again, his expression clearly on the I-can't-believe-you-fucking-did-that side of surprised. Then he busted out laughing and dipped his head, his eyes crinkling as he wiped drops of water off his face. Everyone else followed, and Rodney let out a big sigh of relief before he started snickering.
"Oh, man, that brings back memories," John said as he pushed the cake towards Rodney. "I had a girlfriend in college who was always doing that."
"Hitting you with a rolled up newspaper?" Rodney said before stuffing nearly half the piece in his mouth.
"No, that damn water thing." He glared at Keller, but it was about as effective as the newspaper. Then his face crinkled in amusement again. "Man, haven't thought about her in years." He sighed rather wistfully, then shook his head. "Yeah, she was a witch."
Keller raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? Then what was the attraction?"
John looked up. "Oh, no – she didn't have a mean bone in her body." He paused a moment, his eyes a bit faraway. "No. She was a witch witch. You know, spells, charms…. That kind of witch." He got that wistful look again, but with a hint of a wicked smirk dancing at the edges. "Yeah, Rachael. She really liked my tongue …." He froze, the smirk dissolving into a grimace of horror. "Uh, forget that last part," he mumbled quickly and tried to hide behind his own water bottle. But it was too late, damage was done and his ears were crimson.
"Oh, no, you can't just leave a comment like that hanging," Keller said. She snapped her fingers a lot like Rodney would. "C'mon. Details." Her eyes got a little big. "You really have a tongue like a cat's?" Then she laughed, and it was so wicked Ronon did a double take.
"Yeah, Sheppard," Lorne added in his slow, lazy, deadpan drawl. "Spill, or you all owe us beer."
"What kind of beer do you like?" John sat his water back down, but he was still red.
"Expensive beer," Ronon said.
John nodded as nonchalantly as possible. "Okay."
Rodney finished his cake and coffee before all the snickers died down. "So, a witch, huh?" John nodded. "Well, considering that we've learned in the last year that vampires, were-whatevers, Elves, and pixies exist, then it doesn't surprise me at all that witches do, too."
"My nana was a witch," Zelenka said as he cleaned his glasses.
Rodney swiveled towards him. "Really?"
"Yes." He slid his glasses back. "The whole, ah, kit and caboodle – spells, charms, dancing naked under the full moon." He shook his head. "Never saw the latter, thank God, but she was well known in our village." He looked at John. "Did your Rachael do the latter?"
"Oh yeah." The wistful way John answered brought more laughter, and more color back to his ears. Then he suddenly became interested in the edge of the table. He shrugged and pouted a bit. "Not that I ever, you know, uh, joined in any of those … rituals."
Rodney snorted, and God damn if it still didn't sound a bit bearish. "You are so full of shit."
"Got any pictures?" Keller asked. Ronon grunted and scowled at her, and laughter filled the air once again.
Rodney glanced around at all the smiling people and grinned like a maniac. He was practically high on what was happening there, at the table. He was surrounded by, wow, friends, honest to God friends, he was still alive and in control of his faculties, and for the first time in weeks he realized….
He was going to be just fine.
End Note: Ummm, might be a week before the next one is up. Negolith been bad, now caught up to all that is written, but it is planned. Will crank it out as soon as possible. Please, no rolled up newspapers. And being squirted makes me giggle.