John grabbed the remote off of the coffee table in front of him. He smiled fondly. 'Figures he'd have a real coffee table.' Turning the TV on, he flipped through the channels, only stopping when he found a football game. Football was the best off all the sports out there to him. How could anybody love anything else?

John stretched out his leg, resting his foot on the edge of the table and leaning back into the couch.

"Get your filthy feet off of my table!" a slightly anxious sounding voice snapped at him.

John looked up. It was Rodney. "Oh. Yeah, sorry about that. Bad habit."

"Yes, well, I'd appreciate it if you could get your abnormally dense brain to understand the concept of respecting other people's property."

"Hey," he protested. "My brain is not abnormally dense! I'm abnormally smarter!"

"'Abnormally smarter.' Oh, yes, you've really convinced me of that," Rodney snarked at him.

John rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. And I am smart. I was accepted into Mensa. It's not like I joined, though."

"Wait," Rodney commanded. "Mensa accepted you and you said, 'No, thanks,'? What kind of an imbecile are you?" Rodney stared at him, appalled. John raised an eyebrow. "Assuming you're telling the truth," Rodney added hastily.

"I am telling the truth!" John insisted.

"Prove it," Rodney said, sliding a paper and pen over to John after scribbling on it for a moment. John looked down at the paper. On it was an equation. It was a hard one, but not hard enough.

"The prominent is 4x(9 to the 7th)3/37 times 27, and the rest has not solution."

"Ha! Wrong!" Rodney crowed happily, grabbing the paper. "The right answer is that the prominent is 4x(9 to the 7th)3/37 times 27, and the rest has no solution," he paused. "Wait a minute. You got that right. You got that right?" He asked questioningly.

"Yes, Rodney," John said, speaking slowly, as if he were talking to a child.

"Oh. Okay."

John stared at him. Rodney blinked.

"What?"

"Shouldn't you, you know, apologize to me or something?" John gestured randomly with his hands.

"For what?" Rodney's brow furrowed.

John's eye twitched. "How about the fact that you called me stupid?"

"I didn't call you stupid. I said that you had an abnormally dense brain," Rodney corrected, and then added as an after-thought. "And then I said you lied, but I acknowledged you got the problem right." He frowned. "That still doesn't mean that you're smart, though. You work at Starbucks."

John raised his eyebrows. "As opposed to what you do..?"

Rodney faltered for a moment before coughing. "That's, uh, classified."

"Okay, then, where do you work?"

Rodney cleared his throat and mumbled an answer.

"What?" John asked, confused.

"Atlantis Corporations! I work at Atlantis Corporations, alright? Are you happy now?" Rodney glared at him.

"And that's a bad thing again, how?" John asked.

Rodney stared at him. "Are you joking me? We're run by an incompetent confidence-booster who doesn't know what she's doing. She just became the owner of the corporation eight months ago, and doesn't even have a degree in business. She used to give speeches! She also can't understand the necessity of science! She's cut our budget in half despite it being our most important department of Atlantis Corporation! Did you hear me? Half!" He cried desperately.

"Oh," John said understandingly, "You just don't like her."

"Well," Rodney paused, "It's not that I don't like her. She just doesn't understand the art of science!"

"The art of science?" John asked sceptically.

"Yes," Rodney scowled at him.

"Okay," he drawled.

"It's an art!"

"Mm-hmm."

"It is!"

"I know, Rodney," John said.

Rodney frowned. "Well, good."

"So, uh.. what do you want to do now?"

"I was thinking maybe we could go check out this science museum, actually. It's rumored to have some great pieces by.." Rodney rambled on, John nodding every now and then to appease him.

'He really loves science,' he realized.

"So?" Rodney interrupted his thoughts?"

"Yeah, sure," John agreed. 'Whatever you want.'