Fifty Ways to Leave Your Doctor

Title: Fifty Ways to Leave Your Doctor

Author: Mice

Category: Stargate: Atlantis, McKay/Beckett

Warnings: slash, humor

Spoilers: none

Rating: R

Summary: Rodney and Carson and... divorce?

Archive: If it's on your list, you can archive it. If it isn't and you'd like it, just let me know where you're putting it.

Feedback: Feed me, Seymour.

Website: Mice's Hole in the Wall https://www.squidge.org/mice

Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to many other people. But if they were mine, they'd be having very interesting adventures.

Author's Notes: Zort is evil. This is for her. Fanfic100 prompt "What?"

~~~~

One.

"Oh my god, Carson, are those *bugs*?" Rodney looked at their bed, horrified. The bedspread was covered with little wiggly things. Lots and lots of horrible, nasty, wiggly things.

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Rodney, there's nothing on the bed."

Rodney looked back at the bed. "There so are!" He flailed, gesturing madly to the bed, where Carson most manifestly was not looking.

"You're daft."

"Carson, you're not even looking!" He grabbed Carson by the shoulder and dragged him through the door into the bedroom with him. "Look, damn it! Bugs! Wiggly things!"

Carson looked then shook his head sadly. "They're gummi spiders, Rodney. They're even still in the package."

"But, but... *what?" He glared at Carson. "Why is our bed covered with wiggly candy spiders?"

"They were from my nephew. Mum sent 'em along as a joke."

"There isn't any citrus in them, is there?" Rodney tilted his head, examining them for sugar rush potential offworld.

"Most likely. Lemon and lime are pretty common flavors." Carson shrugged. "I was goin' to give them to the entomology department."

"I am so divorcing you," Rodney growled.

***

Seventeen.

Dawn came too early offworld, Rodney decided. He nudged Carson with his elbow. If the miseries of bright sunlight through the tent fabric were going to be his, he figured he should share them with his spouse.

"Hrm? Mrph?" Carson rolled over awkwardly, whacking Rodney in the face with his knuckles. Sharing a sleeping bag sucked.

"It's dawn, Carson," Rodney said through his hand. His nose hurt and he was fairly convinced he had nearly split his lip. There wasn't any blood, but really, it was only a matter of moments before blood came gushing out of his mouth.

Carson blinked and sat up slowly. "Oh, it's morning already, is it?" He yawned and stretched then reached out and unzipped the door. "Oh, and a lovely morning it is, too. I think we should have some tea, don't you?"

Rodney whimpered and stuck his head back under the woefully inadequate pillow. "I hate you," he grumbled.

***

Twenty three.

"Rodney!" Carson glared at the infirmary door. Rodney had been there only moments before, complaining of the breeze under his hospital gown. "Oh, bloody hell," he muttered. Rodney was always like this for his annual physicals. He'd be about the infirmary all year for any minor thing: paper cuts, stubbed toes, bent fingernails. The moment his annual was due, though, he'd find any way he could to get out of it.

"I am not an exhibitionist!" Rodney shouted back. There he was -- behind one of the privacy curtains.

"Oh, and you're such a wee crybaby about your physicals," Carson grumbled.

"The only prostate exam I want from you is not the sort I get in the infirmary," Rodney snapped.

Carson contemplated the colonoscopy equipment.

***

Forty two.

"You did *what* with my shinty stick?"

"There weren't any hockey sticks," Rodney said, shrugging his shoulders.

"You don't even play hockey." Carson could feel the annoyance rising in him. He'd had that stick since uni. He'd played for years with that stick. It was his favorite -- his good luck charm.

"No, but I like to watch."

"Chuck *broke* it!" Carson reached out to throttle Rodney, who neatly sidestepped him.

"It wasn't made right for hockey." He sounded at least vaguely apologetic.

"That's because it's a bloody *shinty* stick, you daft bastard!"

"Whatever that is."

Carson tackled him. Chuck would pay later.

***

Fifty.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting that you be granted a divorce for..." she looked over at Rodney, "not paying enough attention to you in the infirmary?"

"That's right," Rodney said. He waved one hand in front of her. "I broke my finger today."

Carson glared at him. "He whacked it on some bloody bit of machinery and bruised it. It's not broken."

"You didn't even do x-rays!"

Elizabeth held her head in her hands for a long moment while they glared at each other. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head and picked up a file on her desk. "You do realize this is the... fiftieth time you've come in asking for a divorce." They both had the grace to look sheepish. "Every time, the next day you come back and say you didn't really mean it. So no. That's it. I formally declare the two of you undivorceable. Otherwise I'll have you in here every other day shrieking for one for the rest of my natural life. I hope the makeup sex is amazing, guys. You'll need it."

The look of astonishment on their faces as they left her office was worth the aggravation.

~~pau~~