Rating: Teens (13+)
Feedback: above email address
Spoilers: None
Summary: McKay's having problems once again… (Sam/McKay)
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Warnings: Contains McKay, implied sexual relations
Details: Sam/McKay established relationship. You have been warned! Part 2 of a series.
Author Notes: McKay warning: Yep, he's in it again, so don't read it if you don't like this sort of thing. Hope that you do enjoy it, though, and please send feedback (good or bad). Sorry about the HUGE delay in getting this up, real life has gotten in the way of my muse, unfortunately.
Archive: Heliopolis, Gateworld,
Arrested Development 2
Copyright © Ruth, 2005
Samantha Carter awoke to find the sun streaming in through the window, covering her room in a warm glow. She smiled and turned over to the cool side of the pillow, hoping to get just another 30 minutes' sleep.
Her image of tranquillity was prematurely shattered by her partner's expletives from the kitchen, which you could quite easily have heard on Mars.
With a groan of annoyance she turned over, hoping that whatever he was having a problem with soon got sorted out.
"Saaaaammmm….." His voice pleaded from the kitchen.
With a few choice expletives of her own, she dragged herself from the warmth of her bed, pulled on her robe, and went to see what Rodney had managed to break now.
If she hadn't been so sleepy, Sam would have laughed at the scene before her. That, combined with the fact that nothing her partner did surprised her any more, prevented her from doing so.
Rodney McKay, the world's most foremost expert on the Stargate (as well as herself) was standing barefoot, in flannel pyjamas, his brow furrowed in intense concentration, with his hand stuck inside the toaster.
She put her hands on her hips and sighed.
"How the hell did you do that?" she asked, in the mildly patronising tone of voice with which you would address a small child.
"It ate my toast!" he whined, "I just put my hand in to go after it!"
"You…put your hand…into a toaster," Sam said slowly, "And you are now surprised with the result?"
"Don't patronise me, sweetie," he complained, knowing that his use of that hateful term of endearment would wake her up properly.
He was not disappointed.
"You don't even like toast!" She exclaimed, walking over to him to assess the damage.
"I was just so worn out after last night, I needed to replace the energy," he replied, leering at her.
Sam couldn't help but laugh, his sense of humour was so puerile and immature.
"Come here," she said, peering inside the toaster and gently taking hold of his wrist, "If I can just pull it like this…"
"Ow!" He cried loudly, trying to swat her away with his remaining free hand, "What are you trying to do to me, woman?"
"I'm trying to extract you from the toaster, darling," she said, a dangerous edge to her voice warning him that he had woken her up too early.
"Can't you be gentler?" He pouted.
"You weren't saying that last night," she smirked, moving away before he could hit her again.
Before their conversation plumbed even deeper levels of the gutter, the telephone rang.
"Hello?"
(Loud babbling on the other end of the phone)
"Oh, hi, mom…" Rodney ground out between his teeth, as Sam's mouth turned up at the corners, and her eyes twinkled.
(Continued babbling)
"Sam? Oh, no, she's not here right now."
She glared at him, her hands on her hips. He blew her a kiss, which she ignored, and decided to leave him to get his own damned hand out of the toaster. She went back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her and collapsing back into her soft, warm bed.
Meanwhile…
"Am I busy?" Rodney looked at the toaster, still attached to his hand, and frowned, "Yeah, I'm working on a little problem right here," he replied.
(Babbling gets louder)
"What was that? What do you mean I have no social life? I have a girlfriend now!"
(Babbling grows indistinct)
"Ok, I'm not going to listen to that! - Pause - What do you mean, you're in town? You want to come over?"
He craned his neck around to see that the bedroom door was firmly closed. Dammit.
"Well, I'd have to ask Sam…"
He looked at the closed door again, deciding that maybe it was time for a little revenge. He had so far not inflicted his parents upon her, but her performance this morning over the toaster incident had neutralised his sympathy. She would get a double dose of mama and papa McKay, after which he would seem like a man from Heaven.
"Sure. I'll see you soon. Yeah, bye."
He switched off the phone, and was about to walk back into the bedroom when he remembered his more pressing problem.
He glared at the toaster.
"You are going straight in the trash when I'm done with you!" he threatened.
The toaster paid him no heed.
"Saaaaammmm!" He whined again, this time a little louder than before.
She squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter, and pulled a pillow down over her head.
"Please get me out!" he wailed, "Or I'll just be stuck in the kitchen forever, my hand completely immobilised…"
Pity it wasn't his mouth, Sam thought darkly, but she gave in, throwing back the duvet and for the second time that morning, leaving behind her hope of a lie-in to remove her partner from the latest catastrophe he had entangled himself with.
"I knew you'd come back," he grinned, "You just can't get enough of me."
"How was your mom?" she asked, turning off the power and looking at the toaster again, deep in thought.
"She's coming over with dad today," he said quietly, hoping that his gamble had paid off.
"Really?" Sam asked, not really processing the information as she pulled at his hand again.
"I thought you'd be pleased," he smirked, biting back his laughter. He couldn't believe that she was paying so little attention to what he was saying - she'd normally have been climbing the walls at the very suggestion of their visiting them.
"A ha!" She smiled, as she did something he couldn't quite see. The toaster made an awful clunking noise, and she looked up at him.
"On 3, I'm going to pull your hand out, ok?"
"Ok."
"1..."
"2..."
"AAAARRRGGHH! You said 3!" He moaned, nursing his burned hand against his chest and pulling away from her.
"Right," she said, "Next time - don't put your hand in it, I don't care what's gotten stuck there!"
He was still frowning as she took his hand in hers. She gently kissed the burned area, but suddenly she stopped.
"Honey?" Rodney asked.
She slowly raised her eyes to meet his.
"Rodney, did you just say…"
"Say what?"
"That your parents….?" Sam faltered.
"Oops," he grinned, "Y'all obviously weren't listening to me the first time."
"How long?" she questioned anxiously.
"Ooh, not too long," he smirked, enjoying her obvious panic, "I…"
"I should have left your hand in that freakin' toaster!" She shouted, running a hand back through her hair. "We've got no food in the house, the place is a pigsty, and now you've just invited your parents to stay? WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?"
"Calm down," he assured her, "At least we've still got ages to-"
The doorbell rang.
To Be Continued…
Author's Note: What do you think? Sorry it's taken absolutely ages to get this chapter up, feedback is gratefully received at Who fancies another?