The Mirror Of Emotions 3

Rainy Days, Mondays

by Cynical_Coat

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asc/ccoat/mirror03.php
Summary: Rodney and Sheppard deal with the tribulations of couplehood after an ancient artifact forces them to face the truth

"You had us all very worried, Dr. McKay," Weir said as the others headed for the door to spread the news that the device had been deactivated. "I think we should institute some more precautions for research, to keep anything like this from happening again." It was a good idea... but it was also a dismissal.

"Oh, I don't know..." Sheppard said, not budging from his chair. "Some good came out of it after all..." He looked at Rodney significantly, and watched as his scientist settled back into his seat with a sigh.

"Do you have a minute, Elizabeth?" Rodney asked, trying so hard to be nonchalant that it was almost painful. Her raised eyebrow said she didn't, but she'd make the time. She took her own seat.

"Sure, Rodney... What's on your mind?"

Rodney took a deep breath, and for a moment, John was sure he was just going to up and bolt.

"It's about--- About what happened this afternoon..."

Elizabeth relaxed immediately, smiling.

"Don't worry, Rodney. You were both under the influence of an alien technology. No one holds you accountable. What matters is that you're both alright."

John cleared his throat.

"Thanks... but I think you should hear us out on this one."

Her smile faded at his serious tone, and she glanced back and forth between them.

"Okay... shoot."

Rodney looked at John in desperation, his eye's screaming that he couldn't do this.

But they had decided, without ever saying a word, that it had to come from him.

John nodded encouragingly and Rodney swallowed.

"The device... it amplifies emotion."

She nodded.

"So you said."

"But the emotion has to be there for... anything to happen."

She nodded again and tented her fingers.

"I think I see where you're going with this, Rodney."

"Oh... I doubt that." John interjected. "It'd probably be better if you didn't interrupt."

She opened her mouth, eyes wide, and then closed it. She looked at Rodney, catching their combined mood, and gestured for him to continue. Rodney took another of those deep, stabilizing breaths and plunged onward.

"Some... things came to light while we were fighting, Elizabeth. Some... things that we'd been hiding, even from ourselves, got amplified... and didn't just fade away when we shut it off."

Elizabeth couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

"Things?"

Rodney's mouth closed and then simply refused to open. He gave John a weary, apologetic shrug, and John smiled at him, picking up the torch and running with it.

"Yeah... things. We thought you should be the first to know that there is a 'we'. An 'us'." He amended.

She stared at him for a second, her eyes flicking to Rodney and back again.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying, John?"

-we're screwed- Rodney thought frantically, and before he could stop it, his tongue was at work making things worse. As usual.

"Yes, Elizabeth, if what you think he's saying is that we've both lost our minds and convinced ourselves that the military would just politely look the other way while we---"

"Rodney!" John said quickly, cutting him off. He looked paler than usual, spiraling into a strange backward blush that left his cheeks white and sickly. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was smiling. She actually looked relieved.

"You forget, Rodney, I'm not military. And, given the fact that we're lightyears from home, I don't think we can afford to deny love, no matter what." Her eyes were serious and a trifle sad. "Just promise me this isn't a fling or something like that. That it isn't just something to pass the time. It was bad enough, just now, thinking that you were going to request a transfer because of your fight, Rodney... If things go badly..." She sighed. "I need you both on point. I hate to say it, but your work has to come first. Our very survival depends on what you can accomplish on missions. Together."

John looked at Rodney, that slow, easy smile spreading across his face.

"I understand, Elizabeth. You have my word as an officer. Nothing will change as far as our missions are concerned."

Rodney nodded, though he wasn't sure that would be the case. How could it *not* change?

But it seemed to be enough for Weir.

"Good. I wish you both the best... Now, I--"

"Have some very important work to do." John finished for her, pushing back his chair. She smiled at him.

"So do you, if I'm not mistaken."

John just grinned, but some of the color drained from his face again. Rodney followed him into the hall, walking close beside him but not actually touching. They walked in silence for a while before Rodney got up the strength to open his mouth.

It was strange how hard it was. He usually couldn't keep it shut.

"So..."

"So..." John replied, and then just kept on walking, leaving Rodney to make what conversation he would.

"Never took you for the shy kind..."

John's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm not shy."

Rodney smiled at him, glad to have gotten a real response. He had begun to worry.

"And that would be why you went all pale in there?" He frowned. "Or was that at the thought of-- you know... with me?"

Even with what John had said, he still had his doubts. It was all happening too fast for him to trust it completely. He kept expecting John to wink at him and say 'April Fool's' and disappear into the night with Teyla... or something.

"No!" John said, looking shocked by his own ferocity. "No, Rodney, don't think that for a minute. I just..." He hung his head, mumbling. "It's enough that she knows... she doesn't have to know *that*." He turned his face to Rodney, looking at him sideways. "That's just for us..."

He said 'us' as though it was the sweetest word he had ever heard. Something new and unshakable, full of awe and power.

-then why do you look so scared?-

Rodney sighed, knowing that John had at least as much baggage as he did. Probably more. The military tended to do that to people somehow. He sighed, and suddenly John was supporting him, half carrying him down the corridor. He blinked, closed his eyes for a second, and then he was staring up at John, Carson standing next to him, both of them frowning worriedly.

-damn it... how am I supposed to live down the fainting thing if it keeps happening?-

"-ney? You with me?"

"I'm with you, John..." He watched Carson's eyebrows climb at that and heard himself giggle. He actually *giggled*. "That's absurd... I do not giggle."

"Of course not, Rodney..." John said, grinning. "No one ever said you did."

Rodney tried to sit up, and couldn't even lift his head.

"What happened?"

"When's the last time you ate, Rodney?" Carson asked, still a bit off-balance. He waited while Rodney searched his recent memories... there didn't seem to be food involved in any of them. Carson nodded. "That's what I thought... You've had a hypoglycemic reaction, Rodney, coupled with a sudden, drastic drop in adrenaline... Probably due to that device... On top of that," He shrugged and offered a weak smile. "None of us have exactly been sleeping well lately..."

John grinned.

"Well... I said food and rest... Look's like you'll be getting both at the same time. Think you can sit up?"

Rodney tried again, with even less result.

"Not without help..." He'd barely finished the sentence when John slipped an arm under his neck and shoulders and propped him up, simultaneously thinking the headrest up. "Thanks... A little warning next time would be nice." He flopped back against the bed, wishing that John hadn't let go. John seemed to sense that, and after he swung a tray over Rodney's lap, he came and perched on the edge of the bunk. Carson watched them with some amusement.

"Seems you've got this under control, Major... I'll leave him up to you."

Good old Carson... Always knew when to get the hell out of dodge.

John picked up the knife and fork, slowly cutting up a piece of potato, all of his attention seeming to be on that simple task.

"You know... You aren't going to be able to pull this too many more times." He looked at Rodney sidelong. "Eventually, you'll have to talk to me. About this."

Rodney closed his eyes.

"I know... but not right now... I'm tired."

He felt John shift beside him, and then those gentle lips were pressed to his again. With an unfamiliar feeling of contentment, Rodney drifted off.

At the door, Carson smiled at his friends, glad that they had finally come to their mutual senses.

And it only took an alien device and wrestling match...

Once he woke up, Rodney felt much better. Still tired as hell, but not to the point of semi-paralysis. John helped him to his feet after he insisted that he was well enough for travel, supporting him with an arm curled almost possessively around his shoulders. Carson was back, and there was something both comforting and alarming in his knowing smile.

"What no jokes? Jibes? Some snippy Scottish equivalent?"

Self-preservation was a hard thing to unlearn...

"Not tonight, Rodney." Carson said, that smile deepening and encompassing the both.

"Tonight? How long was I out?"

John squeezed him gently.

"All day, moron..."

Rodney wanted to glare at him, but it had been a stupid question. And he was still groggy and John's arm felt so good around him. He closed his eyes, listening to them talk about him in a way that usually would have driven him into a snark laden tantrum. Today, just now, it filled him with an awkward sense of warmth. It was nice...

"Keep an eye on him, Major... after a crash like that, he's bound to have trouble... Bring him back when he wakes up again."

"Thanks, Doc... See you later." He heard the words, and then they were moving. He didn't open his eyes, silently reveling in a deluge of feelings that he didn't usually enjoy.

Helplessness.

Aimlessness.

Thoughtlessness.

It felt to him as though he could let John steer him, let him be the driving force behind his every movement, and, for a few blissful minutes, not have to think at all.

A strange concept for a man whose whole life had revolved around his so-called 'genius'.

"Rodney, you awake?"

"No, John... I make a habit of wandering the halls in a state of sonambulistic review." He said wearily. John rubbed his shoulder and maneuvered him into the room.

"Good. Sit down."

He followed orders and opened his eyes. His heart leaped into his throat at the sight of John kneeling in front of him, but all he did was proceed to untie Rodney's shoes and pull them off his feet.

"I-- I can do that. I'm not a child." That came out sounding so petulant that he almost laughed. He made no further argument as John continued to strip him, down to boxers and undershirt. He sat there a moment, feeling suddenly wired and very awake, staring down at John, who simply winked and stood up, taking off his own jacket.

"Time for bed, Rodney. Doctor's orders." He lightly pushed Rodney's shoulders back until he was laying against the pillows, lingering there a moment before pulling away and making his own preparations. He looked from the chair to the bed and back again.

"Do you mind? I got in a bit of a scuffle today and my shoulders are kind of sore..." He shook his head. "Some lunatic decided to use me as a human pinball... can you believe that? What's the world coming to?"

"Shut up and lay down... before I change my mind."

John clucked his tongue, pulling the blankets up over Rodney and tucking him in.

"It's my bed..."

Rodney just looked at him, and he shut up and lay down, thinking the light off. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around Rodney and whispered into his neck.

"Is this a problem for you?"

"Nope..."

"Good."

***

John awoke to grey morning light, warm Rodney bulk, and an insistent buzzing.

"Somebody had better be dead..." He muttered, extracting himself from the bed and plodding over to the door. It whooshed open to reveal a very chipper looking Ford.

"Morning, Major... Gee, did I wake you, sir?"

John tried to recall Rodney's 'sonambulism' comment, but couldn't quite manage that.

"Naw... the door chime did that..." He sighed. "Did you want something, Ford?"

"I was actually looking for Dr. McKay--" His eyes had been wandering the room, and they widened when Rodney stirred, burrowing deeper into the bedclothes, away from the sound and light. "Is that--?" He didn't finish the question, but John read it, and the unspoken other, in his eyes.

"Yup... you found him. He had a pretty bad faint last night and Beckett asked my to keep an eye on him."

Ford relaxed, but John couldn't leave it at that. He couldn't hide things from his team.

"And Ford..." He looked at Rodney and then back to the younger man. He didn't have to say a word.

"Yes, sir." He stared at the floor for a second and then flashed a smile. "Congratulations, Major... Maybe you'll be a good influence on him."

"Thank you, Ford..." John said, returning the grin. He'd been 99% sure that's how he'd take it... the others were a different story.

"Does Dr. Weir know?"

"Come on... You know even I wouldn't pull something like this without her full blessing... She's scary when she's mad."

Ford laughed and then glanced down the hall.

"I guess I'll be going then... I can talk to McKay later..."

As the door closed, John allowed himself to hope they'd all take it so well.

Turning, he looked at Rodney's sleeping form, almost lost beneath the blankets and decided it didn't matter.

Next: Out Of The Frying Pan