piplover: (Fear)
[personal profile] piplover
Part two


“What the hell is going on?” Elizabeth demanded as she rounded the last corner to the stasis chamber, her breath stuttering in her chest as she gazed at the chaotic scene before her with a dawning horror.

“McKay’s sealed himself in the damned pod and we can’t get him out. He did something to the control panel,” Sheppard explained, watching in frustration as Zelenka, cursing in Czech, stumbled back from the panel in question with a violent jerk that had him on his butt, burned fingers going to his mouth.

Sparks hissed and popped, leaving the scent of fried circuitry and smoke hanging in the air. The scientist pushed his glasses back up his nose, glaring at the offending technology as though shear will would overcome the problem, scrambling to his feet and brushing himself off one handed.

“Is no use,” he finally grumbled, turning to Weir with a scowl to match Sheppard’s. “A timer has been set. Until it runs out, I cannot do anything without risking his life.”

“Damnit!” Sheppard yelled, slamming his fist into the nearest wall. “What the hell was he thinking?”

“Colonel?”

Dr. Beckett’s voice startled the three in the room as it came over their headsets, tinged with worry.

“What’s wrong, Carson?” Weir asked, her voice sounding resigned and just short of exhausted.

“I went over the information from the pod and may have an explanation for why Rodney would do such a fool thing. Apparently his blood sugar is dangerously low, to a point that could have possible serious side effects. He’ll be fine while he’s in the stasis, but the moment you think you can get him out, I need to know so I can be standing by.”

Weir sighed, glancing at the two men beside her with a fearful scowl. “Understood,” she responded, crossing her arms over her chest in an unconscious effort to protect herself from any further bad news. “Well, gentlemen,” she finally muttered when neither man spoke. “Any suggestions?”

As if in answer to her question, one of the dormant pods suddenly came to brilliant life, lights flashing before settling into a steady glow, the hatch opening slowly of its own will.

“Just one,” Sheppard growled, meeting Weir’s gaze steadily. “Make sure you can get me out of this thing, ok?”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding, watching anxiously as Sheppard moved hesitantly into the chamber.

“I’ll get him out,” he whispered, closing his eyes as the chamber began to close.

“See that you do,” he thought he heard Zelenka mutter.

Then darkness closed about him, and a silence that seemed to have a sound of its own. Then nothing.


“Sonofabitch!”

The shout, quickly followed by yowling and hissing, jerked Rodney to full consciousness, eyes blinking furiously as he tried to understand what he was seeing.

Colonel Sheppard, one hand held protectively in the other, dressed in the Ancient uniform of the Aurora, was standing a few feet from the bed, glaring at the cat now perched protectively on Rodney’s chest. A low, rumbling growl filled the sudden silence, and a warning hiss from somewhere around his feet informed him of ChewChew’s feelings on the matter. Chyoodny’s fur stood nearly straight up, the matted patches doing nothing to decrease the effect.

“Jesus, Rodney, you have an attack cat?” John finally snapped, rubbing his bleeding hand absently as he glared just as furiously at the cats as they at him.

“What?” Rodney managed to ask. His brain felt thick and foggy, like he had had too much to drink without realizing it. Absently he allowed his fingers to stroke down Chyoodny’s back, easing the bristling fur and stopping the low growls. “What are you doing here?”

Sheppard sighed, gathering what little calm he had remaining, and moved to sit on the end of the bed. He leapt back quickly as ChewChew swiped at his leg, ears laid back, hissing.

“Can you call off your monsters first?” he asked, eyeing the creatures warily.

“Don’t call them monsters,” Rodney snapped defensively, his other hand seeking ChewChew’s fur. “You startled them.”

“I – I startled them?” John demanded, stuttering in his indignation. “Rodney, one minute I’m staring at your frozen ass, listening to Zelenka curse your mother in Czech, and the next I’m in the next pod over, being transported to wherever the hell we are. I think I have a right to call those little terrors whatever the hell I want, especially since the first thing that big one did was try to take my hand off!”

“There’s no need to shout!” Rodney hissed, clutching Chyoodny to his chest protectively. “You’re upsetting them!”

“Upse-“ John stopped when his voice rose dangerously, took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “McKay, do you remember where you are?”

For a moment the only response he got was the scientist’s ‘you’re an idiot’ look, quickly followed by a long suffering sigh.

“We’re in the Aurora simulation, Colonel. And, once more, what the hell are you doing in here? I thought I made it so nobody would be able to interfere for twenty-four hours,” Rodney answered, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, about that; what the hell?” Sheppard demanded, crossing his arms irritably. “I mean, seriously. First you go all psycho on me, then lock yourself up in this thing after Weir specifically told you no one was allowed back until further notice.”

Rodney’s chin lifted defiantly, eyes narrowing. “It was the only way I could get in here long enough to determine if there was anything of importance. Since neither you nor Elizabeth trust me enough to do my job, I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Don’t trust -!” Sheppard closed his eyes again, his breath ragged as he sucked in a lungful of air. “All right, McKay, that’s enough. I don’t know what the hell is going on in that brain of yours, but it’s time to come back to reality and get the hell off your high horse, all right? Now come on, we’re leaving!” Sheppard turned his back on the scientist, his shoulders tensed as he looked around the room, trying to figure out how to leave the simulated world.

“No.” The word was spoken softly, sadly, and when the Colonel turned incredulously to stare at the other man, he was taken aback to see him standing, the smaller of the two cats leaning against his leg, the larger one still held protectively in his arms.

“What do you mean, no?” Sheppard snapped, taking a step closing. He stopped at the warning hiss from the cat on the ground.

“It’s a one syllable word, Colonel, surely even you can figure out what it means,” Rodney snapped, glaring. “I didn’t ask you to follow me and quite frankly I don’t care what the hell you do. But I’m staying here until my time runs out, so if you want to go back, feel free. But leave me alone.”

“Damnit, McKay!” Sheppard bellowed, daring the wrath of the cats to take the other man by the shoulders. He regretted it immediately as the large cat moved quicker than he would have thought possible, latching onto his shoulder with claws and teeth.

“Chyoodny, no!” Rodney yelled, scrabbling to get the large animal off the Colonel before either could be hurt.

He managed to pry the claws out of the uniform and held the growling animal close to his chest, his own breathing rapid as he glared at Sheppard.

“Get the hell away from us!” Rodney screamed, taking several steps away from John. “We don’t need you!”

Sheppard stood, dazed, staring from McKay to the two animals that surrounded him protectively, feeling blood dribble down his chest from where the cat’s claws had pierced the material.

“Listen to yourself,” Sheppard murmured. “This isn’t real, Rodney. Those cats aren’t really here, and there’s nothing more to be learned. For once in your life, just one goddamned time, listen to someone else and back the hell down!”

“Why don’t you trust me?” Rodney whispered. The change in subject took John by surprise.

“Jesus, Rodney!” John snapped, waving his hand in the air as he tried to convey the anger and fear that had been tormenting him the past few weeks. “You blew up five sixths of a solar system! You betrayed my trust, you put both of our lives at risk! Isn’t that reason enough for me to finally get my head out of my ass and stop believing in everything you say?”

“I trusted YOU!” Rodney screamed, his arms opening and dropping the cat to the ground with a muffled thud. She didn’t seem to mind, instead taking up a wary stance beside the scientist’s other leg as Rodney continued, his tone rising with each word. “Everything I said was true, and it should have worked! But you – you -!” Rodney had to stop, his breath coming in giant gasps as he glared at Sheppard. “Zelenka told me you had promised Elizabeth you would protect me from myself, before we left.” Rodney paused, as though gathering courage to say his next words.

“You think I betrayed you, because I got so wrapped up I – I couldn’t stop. But it wasn’t – wasn’t about not listening to you or not caring about you. It was about me having faith in you, that you would stop me from killing us both.”

Sheppard blinked, his chest suddenly painfully tight as the full impact of the words hit him.

“I trusted you, too, John. And in the end, we were both wrong.” Rodney’s voice had fallen to a near whisper, his eyes downcast and filled with an emotion Sheppard couldn’t name.

“We were both wrong,” Rodney repeated, softly.


She watched them, silent in her hidden observation, pain creasing the smooth flesh around her eyes. Sheppard’s lips drew into a thin line as Rodney’s face flushed, eyes downcast.

It was time for her to intervene.

“Sleep,” she whispered, touching Rodney’s brow with an unseen finger, smiling slightly as Sheppard moved to catch him, lowering him gently to the floor.

“Rodney?” he murmured, patting his friend’s cheek. “Come on, McKay, wake up. You aren’t getting out of this conversation that easy.”

With another touch, this time to John’s forehead, the Colonel slumped over, his eyes widening slightly in confused fear as they settled on her before closing, unable to fight her will.

Not in this place.


There was something warm vibrating against his back, and his arms were wrapped around an equally warm body. For a long moment John Sheppard tried to make sense of these two facts.

Then the body in his arms sighed and snuggled closer to his chest. All thoughts vanished as he concentrated on the wonderful sensation of lying in a warm bed with a body pressed against him. Absently he ran his fingers gently over the nearest arm, feeling muscles and smooth skin. He didn’t want to open his eyes, to break the spell that held him silent.

“Do you know why cats purr?”

The voice startled him out of his half doze, jerking him awake abruptly as he realized the warm figure cuddled in his arms was the one and only Rodney McKay. With as much dignity as he could muster, he slowly removed his hand from Rodney’s arm.

“No,” he managed to rasp out, his voice hoarse and thick. He cleared his throat. “No, I’m more of a dog person, actually.”

Rodney didn’t move from his position, back to John’s front, and Sheppard could feel the other man’s inhaled breath, ragged and labored.

“Some say it means they’re happy, but that’s not always true. They purr when they’re hurt, too. And when they’re scared,” he added. Rodney’s voice was so quiet that even as close as he was, Sheppard had to strain to hear. “I always figured it was their way of crying.”

“Why?” John asked, surprised to find his own voice barely above a whisper.

“Because they don’t have tears.” Rodney’s tone was so matter of fact, so very much *Rodney,* that John found himself reassured slightly.

As if to make his point, the warm vibration against John’s back increased slightly before it shifted, stretching its large form before hopping over John’s chest to land against Rodney’s hip, giant paws kneading happily. For the first time Sheppard was able to get a good look at the giant cat that had bitten him.

“Rodney,” he asked, softly, watching curiously as his friend’s hand moved automatically, scratching the matted fur behind the cat’s ears. “Where in the world did you get that – that –“

“Chyoodny,” Rodney snapped, turning slightly for the first time since waking up, glaring at John with one eye. “Her name is Chyoodny. I found her in Siberia.”

“Ahhh,” John managed, biting his tongue to keep his next remark to himself, looking around instead to try and determine where they were and, more importantly, how they had got there.

“You are awake.”

John started, instinctively putting his body between Rodney and that of the strange woman who suddenly appeared beside him. She gazed down at the two of them fondly even as she took a deliberate step back, her hands held in a placating manner before her.

A vague memory of seeing her before he passed out came to John’s mind, his lips tightening as he glared at her. Beside him, Rodney wiggled out from under his arm, sitting up fully to stare at the woman curiously.

“Who are you? What did you do to us, why did you do it, and how the hell do we get out of here?” Sheppard demanded.

If anything, her gaze became gentler, eyes crinkling slightly as she smiled. Her dress, moving in the unfelt breeze, fluttered about her slender frame, golden tendrils of hair caressing her face.

“My name is Yasera,” she answered, floating soundlessly to sit on the floor, her gown pooling easily around her form. “I am the last of the crew of the Aurora.”


For a long moment the two men stared at the beautiful woman before them in stunned silence. Then Rodney sputtered, “Wh- what? What the hell does that mean?”

If anything, Yasera’s smile grew, reminding John of those paintings of the Madonna he had seen in the Boston Museum. It creeped him out.

“Before we left for our last mission, it was already understood that there was a very real possibility of not coming back,” Yasera began, her lilting voice almost hypnotic as she spoke. “I volunteered to have my – my essence, if you will, downloaded into the Aurora’s mainframe. This allowed me to access information much more quickly than any of my fellow crewmembers, and gave them a direct link to the ship. When they were forced into hibernation, I was unable to follow them, though I was, at times, able to achieve a sleep like state.”

Rodney’s eyes grew large as she continued to speak, face reflecting his dawning horror as understanding filled him.

“You – you were aware for the whole ten thousand years?” he asked incredulously, his voice squeaking slightly on the last word.

Sheppard continued to gaze at her, giving nothing away through his expression, though his lips were pressed tightly together.

“Yes.” The one word conveyed a sorrow and heartache so overwhelming John was amazed they weren’t crushed under it.

“There was no mention of you in the database,” Rodney murmured softly, stunned. “I – I didn’t know – didn’t realize –“

Her finger upon his lips was warm, silencing the scientist immediately.

“You were not meant to,” she soothed, her eyes serious and full of compassion. “I made certain of that. I did not wish any hesitation on the part of my people when they did what they had to. Or for you to feel any guilt over a decision that had to be made,” she added, turning her penetrating gaze to John.

“But I am not meant to remain here,” she added. “I have given you all the information that I was able. After you leave, my program will destroy itself, and I will join my friends once more.”

“Why are you still here, then?” Rodney demanded, unable to even process the thought of ten thousand years alone. “Why didn’t you die with the others?”

“Rodney,” John hissed, shooting a dark glare his friend’s way at the tactlessness of the question.

“No, it is all right,” Yasera assured the Colonel, smiling indulgently at Rodney as though he were a precocious child. “When you allowed yourselves to be integrated into my systems, you have to understand. I saw everything within your minds.” She paused, allowing this stunning revelation to sink in before she continued.

“I know of the pain you both carry within your hearts.” She reached out her hand once more, resting it lightly on Rodney’s chest for just a moment. “The sorrow and fear you carry here, almost as dark as my own.” Then she turned to John, moving her hand from McKay’s chest to Sheppard’s. He was slightly taken aback at how fragile and warm her fingers felt, even through the material of his shirt.

“There is much between you that is unresolved. A hurt brought about by an evil my people invented.” She silenced John before he cold protest, her glare enough to quell any comment he would have made. “The passion that sparked in you,” she continued, turning to Rodney, “was a fire that burned you both. And neither of you is certain of the healing.”

Rodney found himself looking away from her knowing gaze, fastening his eyes instead on Chyoodny, her fur carded between his fingers as he clung to her like a lifeline. Beside him, he could feel John shift slightly, the other man’s shoulder brushing his.

“The love between you is strong. Stronger than your anger or fear.” She smiled at the men’s reactions, a twinkle in her eyes giving John the impression that she must have been quite the imp during her lifetime. “Concentrate on that, and not on what has passed between you. There will be time enough in your lives for regrets. Do not make this one of them.”

She stood suddenly, a single, fluid movement that had Rodney feeling like an ox in a glass shop.

“It is time for me to leave now,” she murmured, voice soft and filled with a dreamy wonder. When she turned her gaze to Rodney, something inside him broke, something he had thought could never be broken again.

“You’ll –“ he paused, took a deep breath, and fought the tears forming a lump in his throat. “You’ll take good care of them?” he managed to whisper.

“They will know nothing but love and happiness,” she assured him gently. “As they did while with you.”

John, watching the other man intently, suddenly understood what was happening, and he found himself wrapping an arm around Rodney’s shoulders as he slowly released his hold on the two cats purring contentedly in his lap.

“Goodbye, Chyoodny,” Rodney whispered brokenly, bringing the large cat up to his face to place one last kiss upon her head before setting her down gently on the floor in front of his crossed legs. Then he picked up the smaller animal, holding her close to his chest for a long moment.

“Bye, ChewChew,” he sobbed, hands shaking as he released her, watching with blurry eyes as the two animals who had seen him through the worst parts of his life made their stately way to sit beside Yasera.

“Be well,” Yasera murmured softly, a faint glow starting to form around her slender form.

John found himself suddenly with an armful of scientist as Rodney buried his face in his friend’s shoulder, sobbing with great, shuddering breaths. Without thinking, Sheppard placed a light kiss upon the other’s head, rubbing small, soothing circles on the man’s back.

All the tension and anger between them seemed to vanish with the brilliant light that took Yasera and the cats away, leaving them spent and exhausted.

“Lay down, Rodney,” John finally murmured after the worst of the sobs had vanished. “I know you have to be feeling like shit right now.”

A muffled laugh and slight nod answered him, and he eased them both down onto their sides, not releasing his hold.

“I want to go home,” Rodney finally whimpered, his breath still hiccupping in his chest, tiny jerks of his body that left him aching and sore.

“Ok,” John agreed, rubbing his back. “Ok. Let’s go home.”

Blackness settled about them gently, a dark mantle of shadow that embraced them like a lover. Both went willingly into its depths.


The first time Rodney died he had been seven. It took the doctors three minutes and twenty six seconds to restart his heart, leaving a livid bruise where they had inserted the needle and pierced his breast bone.

When he had finally been released, his father carrying him into the house in arms that smelled strongly of strange chemicals and antiseptic, Orangejuice had been waiting at the door for them, the big-boned tabby curling around his father’s legs and yowling until the elder McKay had cursed and threatened to return him to the shelter he had been rescued from.

The yowling had continued until Rodney had been placed in bed, the pitiful cries dying with a suddenness that had brought his mother into the room to make sure his father hadn’t killed it.

Little did he realize that the memory of Orangejuice’s ecstatic purring as the large cat curled up next to him would remain with him for the rest of his life, a balm on his soul when it felt as though nothing and no one cared if he lived or died.

****

“…and then she got all glowy and left. That’s when we came back.”

Weir sighed as she looked at her clasped hands, shifting slightly in the uncomfortable seat. The noises from behind the curtain where Rodney lay had tapered off several minutes ago, leaving Sheppard’s voice sounding unnaturally loud in the infirmary.

“So all of this…” she began, finally looking up to meet Sheppard’s eyes, her own filled with worry and frustration. “Do you think she did something to him? Made him act irrationally?”

‘Like you with Chaya,’ lay unspoken, though the words burned nonetheless.

“No.”

Carson’s exhausted voice preempted any answer Sheppard may have tried to give as he made his way to where the two of them sat. He waved them back into their seats wearily, sitting heavily in the chair beside Weir’s.

“Carson, is he all right?” she asked, gently touching her friend’s hand as he absently squeezed hers.

“He’s going to be fine. We gave him the glucagon shot as soon as he was out of the chamber, and now all he needs is some rest and a good meal when he wakes up.” The doctor sighed, his red rimmed eyes a testament to his worry over the past several hours. “His blood sugar was dangerously low. You said he went running - before he lost it?”

The question was directed to John, who nodded, pursing his lips as he narrowed his eyes in thought..

“Yeah, the guys patrolling that section got worried when they saw him running and called it in,” Sheppard replied, thinking back to his friend’s sweaty, trembling appearance when he had finally caught up. At the time he had thought it was from the unusual exercise, but now…

“The daft bugger,” Beckett muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He knows better than to do that kind of exercise without eating first.”

“Carson?” Elizabeth asked, the steal in her voice lending strength to the doctor, who seemed to sit up straighter.

“The fact of the matter is, he wasna thinking straight when he locked himself in the chamber. His blood sugar was so low I’m amazed he managed to get there in the first place. By all rights, he should have been passed out cold when you found him, Colonel,” he added, scowling. “I doubt he’ll remember anything of this afternoon when he wakes up.”

The rest of Beckett’s words faded out as Sheppard swallowed the suddenly large lump in his throat. To have finally aired the tension between them, the emotions still thick in John’s chest, and to be the only one to remember…

Sheppard found his eyes drawn once more to the curtain that separated him from the other man, uncertainty making his palms moist as he absently ran them over his thighs. For the first time since Afghanistan, he found himself praying for an answer he didn’t have the question to.

***


He woke suddenly, startling out of slumber with an uncontrolled flailing of his arms that sent the cup of ice chips slowly melting by his bedside clattering to the floor.

“Rodney!”

Strong hands latched onto his wrists before he could rip out the IV nestled in the crook of his left arm, Sheppard’s calm voice bringing him back to awareness as footsteps heralded the arrival of the night nurse.

McKay blinked several times, trying to clear the grit from his eyes and the blurriness from his vision.

“There you are,” Sheppard whispered, smiling wearily as he noticed the change in his friend’s awareness. Slender fingers relaxed their grip, though his hands remained a moment longer on Rodney’s, warm palms sliding over the bones of wrists before releasing the scientist.

The Colonel looked more tired than McKay had seen him in a long time, dark stubble coloring the high cheek bones and circles rimming his eyes. He looked haggard, and it took the scientist a moment to process what he was seeing.

“You look like shit,” he croaked out just as the nurse, a petite blonde with too perky hair for the Pegasus Galaxy, came around the curtained barrier.

“That’s because he hasn’t left the infirmary since this afternoon,” she murmured, casting a disapproving glare Sheppard’s way even as she gently adjusted McKay’s IV, making certain he had not pulled the line out.

Rodney’s raised eyebrow was met by a noncommittal shrug, and the nurse snorted as she made a quick notation on McKay’s chart and turned to leave.

“Don’t keep him up, and if you aren’t out of here when I come back, I’m going to order an enema for you,” she warned Sheppard. “Then at least you’ll have a reason for sticking around bothering the night shift.”

Both men winced as she left.

“You have to give her credit,” Rodney whispered hoarsely. “That’s not a threat you hear every day.”

“True,” John agreed, bending over to retrieve the discarded ice cup and grimacing at the mess on the floor. “You want some ice?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I think I’ll go without, thanks.”

“Suite yourself,” Sheppard shrugged, tilting the cup over his mouth and allowing one of the remaining chips to slide over his lips.

“Ugg! That is so – so disgusting!” Rodney hissed, watching in horrified fascination as his friend crunched contentedly.

“Oh, it’s fine, you big baby,” John mumbled around his mouthful. “None of these touched the floor.”

“Enema!”

The nurses’ voice floated over to them in a sing-song lilt from where she sat, apparently absorbed in filling out paperwork.

“I’d watch out for her, she seems vicious!” Rodney whispered.

“Eh,” Sheppard shrugged, grinning at the look of dawning incredulity spreading across McKay’s face. “I have more important things to worry about.”

The Colonel leaned forward, invading McKay’s personal space as tension filled the air between them.

“So tell me, Rodney,” he murmured, hazel eyes locking with blue. “Tell me a story about a ten thousand year old woman and two cats.”


Rodney swallowed hard against a dry throat, suddenly wishing he hadn’t declined the offer of ice.

“Oh,” he whimpered, pressing his head back against the pillow in an effort to gain more breathing space, even as Sheppard moved his face closer. “I was, um, hoping you wouldn’t….um….”

For some reason Rodney couldn’t understand, the scientist’s stumbling words brought a smile to the Colonel’s face that lasted until the night nurse appeared around the privacy curtain with an enema bag and an evil grin.

***

Sweat trickled down his neck, pooling into the hallow of his throat with a clamminess that made him shudder internally. The damp patches at his armpits rubbed slightly against moist skin, a friction that he knew would produce a spectacular rash.

He didn’t care.

His breath burned in his lungs, a tight pain that constricted his breathing and forced him to slow his stride, one hand going automatically to his right side, where a dull pain alternately throbbed and lanced through him.

It had been five days. Five days since he had been discharged from the infirmary under strict orders to take it easy or Carson would sick the night nurse on him. Five days since Sheppard had walked him slowly to his room, hand warm and lingering on his arm. Five days since Sheppard had left him at his door with a weary smile and more questions than he wanted answers to.

Five days that had left him in a perpetual state of annoyance and frustration that had even Zelenka running for cover.

“You know,” the object of his annoyance stated casually from somewhere behind him, “You really need to stop scaring my marines.”

Rodney yelped, stumbled over his left foot as he attempted to continue running and stop at the same time, and fell to the ground in a spectacular sprawl of limbs and curses.

“You ok?”

Sheppard’s mop of unruly hair peered down at him, a curious frown marring the handsome features as the Colonel raised one inquiring eyebrow.

“I…hate…you.” Rodney panted, shrugging off Sheppard’s hand as he leveled himself into a sitting position, gasping for breath.

Rather than the snappy comeback he expected, McKay watched as Sheppard lowered himself easily to sit cross legged next to him, bumping their shoulder’s together.

“What’s with the running? I thought you promised Carson no more solo jaunts around the piers.” There was no accusation in John’s voice, and for some reason that had Rodney looking down to his hands, cheeks flushing.

“I couldn’t find Ronon,” he mumbled, wincing at the excuse.

“You could have asked me,” Sheppard murmured, shifting slightly so he could bump Rodney’s shoulder again. “What’s up?”

Rodney was still trying to figure out an answer to that when gentle fingers closed loosely around his jaw, turning his head so he was forced to meet intense hazel eyes.

“You really are a lot of hard work,” Sheppard whispered softly, and kissed him, chastely, on the lips. “But I never could say no to a challenge.”

For a long moment the two of them sat there, shoulders touching, John’s fingers resting on Rodney’s cheek, lips centimeters apart. Then Rodney tilted his head slightly, closing the gap.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss read about in romance novels or seen on TV. It was the kiss of lovers who have known each other all their life, of a man greeting his spouse on a lazy Sunday morning.

It was the kiss of two friends who had always been so much more, and always would be.

For a moment, as their breath mingled with the sharp tang of salt from the ocean and Rodney’s quickly cooling sweat, the world stilled.

And Rodney McKay, the man who had never really grasped why cats purred for no apparent reason, suddenly understood.

Sometimes cats purred…just because they could.

Re: Happiness

Date: 2006-06-17 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] piplover.livejournal.com
Ahh, thanks! I have to admit, I cried too, when he said his goodbyes. Saying goodbye once is hard enough. To have to do it a second time....

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