I haven't posted here in forever as I mostly post on AO3 now but I decided to post this story here to show I'm still around and still writing SGA 18 years later. I go by Tazmy there as well. If you want to see any more of latest stuff, come check me out there. I also have a lot of my ffn stories expanded and revised on AO3.
This is a pre-McShep humor story.
Rodney called an emergency briefing for 0500 hours, giving John all of fifteen minutes to wake up, choose the least dirty uniform from the pile on the floor, comb down his hair (which of course immediately spiked back up again), and race to the nearest transporter.
Carson and Woolsey arrived in the conference room at the same time as John, and all three zombie-shuffled their way to the coffee station. Ronon and Teyla already sat at the table, both managing to look completely put together, as though this were a planned meeting.
Carson took the seat next to John.
"It's good to have you back," John told him, stifling a yawn.
"It's good to be back, Colonel. Barring any complications, I expect the IOA to approve my full return by the end of the week."
"That is wonderful news, Carson," Teyla said.
"Anyone know what this is about?" John asked.
"Yeah," Ronon said, leaning back in his chair.
"Care to share?"
"No."
Before John could press for more details, Rodney finally entered the room, five minutes late, despite having been the one insisting on the last-minute 0500 meeting in the first place.
Rodney's hair stuck out at all ends in ways that would make even John's hair jealous. His wide, manic, blue eyes barely blinked. His coffee hand shook slightly, sloshing the drink onto his uniform, but he didn't seem to notice at all. His thin lips turned upward but not in a happy smile so much as a crazed 'everything is going to hell and I haven't slept in days' sort of smile that raised John's internal alert warning to a higher setting.
Woolsey and Carson exchanged concerned glances then turned their gazes to John who shrugged in response.
Without preamble, Rodney began, "So I've been thinking about how we were kidnapped and accused of war crimes. At first, I obviously discounted everything they had to say because their claim was so preposterous, but then, I got to thinking, what if they were right? What if we actually do commit war crimes?"
Rodney held up a hand for everyone to wait while he took a few sips, then began pacing again.
He then continued, "I mean, seriously, we got acquitted only through shady means, right? And people die all the time because of us. So I've spent the last week thinking about our role here in the Pegasus galaxy and how monumentally and incomprehensibly stupid we've been at times."
"Like when I woke up the Wraith or you blew up five-sixths of a solar system?" John tried.
"Yes! Perfect examples."
Okay, that response was not okay or normal. When the hell had Rodney lost another marble?
Rodney gesticulated wildly once more. "Which just got me thinking more about all the people we've inadvertently gotten killed. So I started counting it all up and the tally was wholly unacceptable."
At this, Rodney pressed a button on his pad and the conference room screens displayed a table listing on one side 'How We Fucked Up' and on the other 'Rating of Just How Completely Fucked Up it Was.'
"After talking to Ronon and Teyla, I created the rating based on a complicated formula of how many people died, how many people we saved, how arrogant we were with our solutions, and how much we listened to the Pegasuns first."
"Dr. McKay—" Woolsey started, but Rodney glared at him, his eye twitching as he snapped back.
"I'm not finished!"
He took another swig of coffee and then continued, "It's not just war crimes, but let's be honest, a lot of it is. And what's not, is still pretty bad. After what happened last week, I finally had this epiphany that something needs to change."
Ah, so that's what this was about.
"Last week's mission was messed up," John admitted. "But we've been over this. It wasn't your fault."
"So you've said. You were wrong then and you're still wrong now. We have perfectly good stunners but we always show up to new planets with P-90s? Why?"
He paused, glancing around the room with his wide, unblinking eyes as though expecting answers while promising to eviscerate anyone who tried to actually respond. "Look at that fucked up rating from that mission!"
Rodney gesticulated so wildly at the screen that at least half his coffee now decorated his shirt.
"Dr. McKay!" Woolsey spoke in a soft but firm command voice. "This is a professional meeting. I'm going to have to ask you to use appropriate language."
"What? Really? Fine. Whatever."
Rodney gave a mimicking voice under his breath, "use 'appropriate language'" like a petulant pre-teen just admonished by a parent. John half expected Rodney to stick out his tongue.
"Rodney," John tried with as gentle a voice as he could muster as though he were soothing a child, "when's the last time you slept?"
"I don't know? A week? Why? Oh…You think I'm crazy."
"I think you need sleep."
"Exactly! This is serious, John. Look at those ratings! We don't have to panic yet. I think I have a solution to keep us from committing any more atrocities. It's actually quite the genius idea, really, and admittedly not entirely my own. I suspect it's worthy of its own Nobel Peace Prize, and I'm sure you'll all agree when you see how many lives we can save."
John looked to Carson, expecting to see the doctor ready to pounce on Rodney and drag him to the infirmary. Instead, he leaned forward, clearly interested in whatever solution Rodney's insane mind had managed to concoct.
Teyla and Ronon seemed equally focused while Woolsey and John hopelessly exchanged concerned looks.
"So what is your solution?" Teyla prodded.
Rodney proudly tilted his chin up and proclaimed, "Naps."
"Naps?" Woolsey asked incredulously.
"Yes! Exactly. Naps."
"You can't be serious," John said, leaning back in his chair while tapping his fingers on his legs. He glanced at his watch and groaned. For all he complained about Rodney's lack of sleep, John didn't usually fare much better. His active brain refused to shut down until 0300, and he was supposed to be off duty today barring any big emergencies. Nap time hardly qualified, right?
Rodney sighed in the way only he could, which was to say he did so deeply with an intense eye roll and every part of his body shouting 'Why must I be surrounded by idiots?'
"Listen, we're all cranky, right? We stay up all night regularly. We're often kidnapped and tortured. We've inadvertently killed whole civilizations. We live under the constant threat of impending doom. No wonder we can't think straight. Imagine a universe where we decided to sleep on our ideas before we acted. Imagine feeling well rested when we make life-altering decisions that affect whole worlds. Imagine if we were awake enough to actually listen to what the Pegasuns have to say."
"I think Rodney might be on to something," Carson said. "We do tend to make some questionable choices, and the lack of sleep isn't exactly helping."
"See! See!" Rodney exclaimed. "All we have to do is declare shifts for taking naps and we can cut our fucked up rating down by at least half. Now, the math on this is new and admittedly difficult to prove, but I'm sure my numbers are right. This is me, after all."
"Let me get this straight," John scoffed. "You stayed up for a whole week trying to solve this, clearly not sleeping at all, just to come to the conclusion we should all take naps? And you were so impressed by this revelation that you called an emergency 0500 meeting on our team's day off."
"Yes, but to be fair, the naps were actually Ronon's suggestion. But I'm the one who ran through the numbers and figured out that if we add in cuddles it could lower our war crimes by an additional 40 percent!"
"Whoa! Hold up," John said. "You didn't say anything about cuddles."
"I was getting to it," Rodney responded, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
"I'm not cuddling anyone, Rodney."
"Oh." Rodney pouted, his hands falling to his side, and his lips somehow thinning more as the right side tilted downward. "I suppose I should have anticipated that, but…" His shoulders slinked forward in such obvious disappointment that even John couldn't help but notice.
Teyla said, "Do not fret, Rodney. Both Ronon and I are here for cuddling."
John felt strange. His tummy rumbled. His cheeks burned. Even his ear tips felt weird. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to slink away from the entire conversation but resisted the urge to claim dibs on Rodney. He didn't do 'touching' after all, much less cuddling. Everyone knew that.
Carson said, "Well, I for one, think it's a great plan."
"You do?" Woolsey asked.
"Of course I do. Every one of you is always stressed by something. I've been telling you all for years now—both me and the other me, that is—to sleep more, haven't I?"
Woolsey rubbed his temples. "If I am understanding this correctly, Dr. McKay, you're suggesting we all take time out of the work day to cuddle with our colleagues and sleep. That's your actual proposal and reason for this emergency meeting?"
"Yes!" Rodney immediately perked up, smiling brightly again. "Just think of the lives we can save if we start today. Now, I'm thinking we need three shifts for nappers so we have enough people on duty at a time. And get this, I was talking to Radek, and he suggested we could even keep up naps during many of our big emergencies if we train our people more often on the work we do as senior staff and trust them to do their jobs! Crazy, right?"
"Definitely something," John muttered. "Listen, I'm not saying I'm not on board with this whole nap idea, but couldn't we talk about this after breakfast?"
"Well, we could, but then there wouldn't be any time to build the forts."
"Forts?"
"Pillow forts, obviously. Really, keep up, Colonel. No one wants to have cuddly nap time in their own quarters. We have to designate a portion of the city as the cuddly nap time fort sector. Bring your pillows, blankies, stuffies, and all."
"Will you just listen to yourself? You just said blankies and stuffies , Rodney. You need to go to sleep."
"Aye, I believe that's his point, Colonel."
"How are you not trying to drag him to the infirmary?"
"He isn't wrong. I'm not proud of many of the things I've done out here. If napping can keep such horrors from happening again, I don't understand why you don't want to try it."
"Have you looked at him, Carson? He's obviously not well."
Rodney's manic wide eyes once again twitched. His deathly pallor was frightening.
"Oh, please, I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
"You're just bothered by this because you're allergic to touch. We're not going to make anyone do anything but nap. If you don't want to cuddle, then you can hold a pillow or something. But I really think we should do this."
Woolsey nodded in agreement. "Very well. I see no reason to not try naps. Teyla, Ronon, I'm going to have you both oversee this endeavor. Colonel Sheppard, please see to it that Dr. McKay makes it to the infirmary for a check-up. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm heading back to bed."
Rodney called out, "Wait! I was hoping to—"
"You heard the man. Infirmary," John insisted, taking hold of Rodney's arm as he led him out of the briefing room. Carson motioned he'd be staying behind a moment and would catch up soon.
"Hey. Let go. I don't need a shadow."
"And the chances of you arriving there if I don't walk you?"
"Hm. I just need to go to my quarters and sleep."
"Which is why Woolsey ordered me to escort you."
"You can both be really annoying at times, you know that?"
"Says the man who woke me up at 0445 just to tell me we should sleep more."
"And cuddle. Don't forget the cuddles."
"And that would be why we're headed to the infirmary."
"What? Are you crazy? We can't cuddle there. People might ask questions."
"For a check-up, Rodney. We're going for a check-up."
"Oh. That's right. You'd rather whole civilizations fall than cuddle with me so instead you're opting to treat me like I'm crazy."
John's ear tips burned as he unpacked Rodney's sentence. He said nothing as they wandered into the transporter and out onto the infirmary floor.
"You wanted me to cuddle with you?" John finally asked, his cheeks surely on fire.
"Yes, obviously."
John stopped short of the infirmary doors, studying his friend carefully. "Since when?"
"Since always. Or at least since we met, anyway."
"Was this whole thing just a setup then?"
"What? Oh. No. Um. Not entirely. We really do need to commit fewer war crimes and do less killing overall. And I stand by my math."
John tapped his fingers nervously against his leg, still studying Rodney.
"You realize that you would never admit any of this if you weren't crazy from a week short on sleep, right?"
Rodney bounced on his feet, grinning wildly.
"Ah, but I am admitting it, right? So the real question is whether or not you want to cuddle with me. Yes or no? Because my calculations all sort of hinged on it…not just cuddling, actually. Dating. Partnership. Whatever…"
John choked, "Uh…"
Something in John's heart went Ba-Thump. His words failed him, though he so desperately wanted to say 'Yes.'
Rodney suggested, "But we could just start with cuddling?"