Synopsis: Rodney's upset about how the other off-world teams get all the fun
Warnings: Damn close to crack!fic - you have been warned
The mission was over, they'd just stepped through the 'gate and, for some reason, Rodney was angry, which was strange considering the mission had been a milk run. No one had tried to kill him, offer him citrus nor belittle his genius (if you didn't count Ronon - and John didn't). That left John a bit confused as to the reason for the Rodney's ire. He was also fast losing his patience - so maybe it was time to ask. He'd regret it, but hell, things had been pretty boring lately, so why the hell not.
"McKay, explain the bee, please?"
Head down and fingers working on getting himself out of the American military's version of armor, Rodney said, in his most disgusted tone, "Again with the boring."
The response so mirrored his own thoughts that, for a moment, John was too startled to speak - and by the time he could, Teyla was looking confused and saying, "Bee? I saw no bee, nor any creature similar to what you have described as a bee."
"The one in my bonnet," Rodney huffed out as Elizabeth walked up to them with that damned hopeful look in her eyes - the one John knew he'd have to crush.
"Bonnet?" Teyla asked, still obviously baffled. "Isn't that a...hat worn by the women of your world? As in a," she searched for the right terminology, "sun...bonnet?"
"Exactly," Rodney answered. "It's a colloquialism. The Colonel was actually asking me what bee was in my bonnet, which means why am I angry and, while I'm somewhat surprised that he even noticed, the reason for my mood is that we were faced with yet another useless mission with friendly people willing to share what they had, which wasn't much, in spite of the knowledge that the Wraith could descend on their happy home at any time. The Darwos are like every third race we meet. The Rotars of M5S-342 were typical of every second race - pissed and secretly developing weapons like the Genii, but still having nothing for us but a new kind of bean--"
"Which you love." John felt pressed to add that little piece of information even as he gave Elizabeth his patented 'Damned if I know what he's rattling on about this time' shrug.
"That's not the point," Rodney said, his vest now hanging from his fingers.
Elizabeth sighed loudly in an effort to take over the conversation - and asked, "I take it the mission was unproductive?"
"The Darwos were a very friendly people, generous and--"
"Of course they were generous, Teyla," Rodney interrupted. "When you've got nothing, it's pretty easy to be unselfish."
"Now isn't that a positive way of looking at life," John snorted.
"I'm only saying what's true. The more you have, the less you want to give away."
"Yes, well, we'll debrief in an hour, Colonel," Elizabeth said. "For now, you know the drill--"
"Yeah, yeah," Rodney said, still clearly disgusted. "What I don't understand is why we can't run into a few planets like M3E-887. Why do we get--"
"Are you saying that you want to be forced to--"
"Teyla, I don't believe we need a reminder of what Major Lorne and his team went through at the hands of the Tets," Elizabeth admonished gently.
"How about a reminder of what Major Grissom and his team got to do last week? Or maybe Colonel Randolph's team when they went to M2Y-448?"
"Are you insane, Rodney?" John asked, even though the answer to that was obvious.
"No, I'm not, no thanks to you, Colonel. I'm just saying that we're the premiere team, the SG-1 of Atlantis, but it's everyone else who gets the good stuff, which isn't fair. That's all I'm saying."
With an irritated shake of his head, John thrust his P-90 into Ronon's hands, turned to Rodney, fisted his shirt, pulled him in close, and kissed him.
When he was done and had released the shocked scientist, he said, "There, now you can pretend I've been infected by a strange pollen produced by the Darwos and was forced to kiss you. Feel better?"
Rodney stood there, mouth slightly open, lips slick, eyes wide. He stayed that way even as John gave a disgusted shake of his head, took his weapon back and walked away.
With a barely-there grin, Teyla followed while Ronon said, "Would you like it if I pretended to be affected by the pollen as well, McKay?"
Rodney snapped his mouth shut, then opened it again. "If you do, I'll kill you, and don't, for a minute, think I can't - because I can - and in ways you'd never imagine."
Ronon grinned and walked away, his words floating back to Rodney. "This is me, afraid."
Elizabeth smiled at the man's retreating back and, before heading back to her office, observed, "My, he's really catching on, isn't he?"
Rodney found himself alone. With a disgruntled sigh, he headed for the Infirmary.
"I suppose you think that was funny?" Rodney asked as he walked in to find John sitting on a bed and Carson removing a blood pressure cuff.
"I don't know what you mean," John said while rolling his sleeve back down.
"You know damn well it doesn't count if the cause is due to nature or some naturally occurring phenomenon. In all the cases I submitted in the 'gate room, it was a case of --"
"Aliens making them do it?" John asked while trying to look innocent but, to Rodney's eyes, failing miserably.
"Precisely. Which means that little stunt of yours didn't count. So there."
Carson looked from one man to the other and finally said, "I don't want to know, do I?"
"Probably not," John agreed.
"In that case, I'll just make myself useful...somewhere else."
With that, Carson nudged his way past Rodney and took the few steps necessary to take him out of hearing range.
Always a safe bet when John took Rodney on, or vice versa.
"I have to disagree with you, McKay," John said easily once Carson was out of sight. "I think that kiss was a hundred percent valid due to rule number 306, and I quote: 'Any natural or unnatural occurrence, as experienced on an alien planet within - or without - the Milky Way, that causes a Stargate team leader to kiss - or otherwise indulge in intimate physical contact with the least likely member - preferably the least likely same-sex member - of said leader's team--"
"Ah-ha! Experienced on an alien planet! You kissed me in the 'gate room and of your own volition - so I repeat, it does not count."
"You didn't let me finish," John said as he wagged a finger in front of Rodney's face. "The rule goes on to say, 'Unless the team leader needs no alien influence to kiss or otherwise have intimate physical contact with said member of team.' That's the important part, see? As I understand it, General O'Neill himself added that amendment after Doctor Jackson was coerced into kissing yet another persistent alien. Of course, once he received his promotion, he nullified it - for SG-1 only - but one can understand his reasoning. Jackson was still on the team and he really didn't want to give Mitchell any loopholes. Me, I know a good loophole when I read it."
When Rodney, who was looking about as gobsmacked as a man could look while still standing, didn't respond, John stood up, leaned in, and, with his mouth close to Rodney's ear, whispered, "But maybe some men need alien influences to do what they've been wanting to do for a couple of years."
With that, John walked off, once again leaving Rodney alone and wondering what the hell had just happened. On the other hand, he was a genius, so yeah, he knew - which was why, twenty minutes later and, after Carson had finished with him, he was walking into John's quarters.
"I do not need alien influences but I sure as hell thought you did," he said as he grabbed John's black t-shirt in his fingers and yanked. When John's chest connected with his own, Rodney kissed him.
It wasn't something he'd done often, especially since coming to Atlantis - but it was something he'd been thinking about, planning, and yes, all right, practicing.
But he'd be damned if he'd admit it.
And as he'd discovered in the 'gate room - John felt nothing like a pillow. Or a woman. Or any other man Rodney had ever....
...nope...John was way better.
Hard body, soft, somewhat chapped lips, hands that seemed to know what to do, and a tongue just as eager as his own. Yeah, John Sheppard was better - better than coffee, chocolate pudding, Sam Carter, Rodney's imagination... John was even better than a fully charged ZedPM.
Rodney figured that might be considered scientific blasphemy but what the hell - he hadn't been as lucky as John with regards to 'getting any' since arriving in the Pegasus Galaxy.
Although...that was apparently about to change.
Nope, he, Rodney McKay, didn't need aliens to make him do it - and finally, neither did John.