Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Episodes: Sanctuary, Epiphany, Inferno
Rating: PG
Summary: Their joined gaze held each other's hearts.
Notes: Inspired by point 1e here.
Thanks as always to Sheila for the beta and her infinite patience.
What the Heart Felt
by Night Spring
Oh, god, this was a nightmare.
How the hell had this happened? He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. One moment, he'd been eating in the mess with John and Carson, gloating -- okay, he could admit, he'd been gloating -- about his upcoming dinner with Norina, and now, instead of a quiet romantic evening for two, he was stuck watching as his so-called friends turned their full charms on Norina, matching amusing anecdotes one after another, mostly at his expense.
God, that stupid, stupid joke about the small dinner he and Norina would throw.
Please. Kill him now.
"Oh, damn it!"
The thrown wrench skidded across the floor, clattering loudly into the far wall. All eyes in the room turned to Rodney, only to skitter away at his biting glare.
Satisfied no one would dare come near, Rodney turned back to the offending panel.
Norina's smile had been soft and promising as she turned to him after John and Carson left. So why the hell hadn't he stayed? That had been the whole point, hadn't it?
But the room had felt suddenly suffocatingly empty with the absence of a voice.
"So, what's up?"
And talk of the devil.
When, Rodney wondered, had his people decided the colonel was his keeper? And since when had he been unable to say no to this man, even knowing full well he was being played?
Why was he allowing himself to be whisked off to a quiet, secluded balcony, accepting a cup of -- mmmmm, fine roasted coffee! -- poured from a ready carafe?
Since when had John looked at him with such fond affection, and when had that become not enough?
And god damn it all, why did he have to realize this, now?
Grimacing, Rodney swallowed down the bitter rich coffee.
"So, uh..." John cleared his throat. "What went wrong?"
"What makes you think anything went wrong?" Rodney shot back.
Of course, it wasn't going to work -- he knew that even as he said it, and didn't need to see it confirmed in John's eyes. He turned, moving to the balcony railing, staring out across the ocean.
John came up beside him, arm brushing his as he leaned onto the railing.
"Thing is, I was sure it worked," John said to the ocean.
"Huh?" Rodney blinked. "It worked? What worked?"
"Well, you know. We warmed her up. For you."
"What?!?!"
"That's... What... Why... How could..."
"Breathe, Rodney."
Rodney snapped his mouth shut, and breathed -- or rather, snorted -- through his nose. Damn, couldn't he disobey this man, even once? He snapped his mouth back open, ready to give it another go, but John was ahead of him with a disarming smile and calming hand.
"C'mon, Rodney. It's just, you deserve something nice, y'know?"
And there were just so many things wrong with this, but most of all, that insistent corner of his mind sitting up and begging "Yes, nice, please, nice, please, can I have it, please?"
Which John would never offer.
"Rodney?" John's face was beginning to squint with concern, and Rodney realized he'd been silent too long.
"Uh... I... Norina. I don't want Norina," Rodney babbled. "I mean, I thought I did, obviously, but..."
"But...?"
"But... I... I mean... There's nothing to say. Nothing to talk about."
"You wanted to talk?"
"Well, not just talk, obviously, but... I just, it wasn't Norina I... I mean..."
"Okay. Not Norina. Who?"
"Huh? What?"
"You don't want Norina, so who do you want?"
"Wha...? Just because I don't want Norina, doesn't mean..."
"Rodney."
Oh, god. He was so screwed.
"Uh... work. Yes, work!"
The Orion's schematics rolled across the screen, but the hasty panic of his retreat from John churned over and over in Rodney's mind.
How much had he given away? And damn the man, since when could John read him so easily?
With a start, he found Radek next to him, eyes set with such grave concern as he delivered John's message to come test fly a jumper, Rodney wondered if he really looked that terrible, even as he half-heartedly objected.
"Rodney, you need to go, please," Radek insisted. "You quiet is scaring everyone worse than your yelling."
Of course it would.
Rodney stepped out of the transporter and looked down the hall toward the jumper bay.
John's summons meant only one thing -- John was determined to get to the bottom of this. And he couldn't deny John.
Nor, for that matter, was there much John would deny him. If it were within his power to give this to Rodney, John would. But no one could dictate what the heart felt. Not even his own.
It was the best friendship he'd ever had, the most love he'd ever felt. He'd always have that.
Steeling his heart, Rodney walked forward to meet his future.
John leaned against the jumper and stared up at the bay roof. Rodney wanted him, right? What other explanation was there? Even if it was someone awkward, like, say, Elizabeth -- or another guy, maybe one of the U.S. military -- but Rodney knew no other military guys well enough to want them, at least not in the "talking" way. If it was just sex -- which clearly wasn't what Rodney wanted -- but whatever it was, he'd know John was cool, right? He'd at least give John a chance, wouldn't he? Rodney trusted him that much, right? Right. Which left only one conclusion...
The Daedalus Home Shopping Network, as everyone had taken to calling it, was an unqualified success. Initially, keeping catalogues from disappearing from common areas had been a problem, until they were tagged with sensors so they could be tracked.
Rodney wooohed and aahed over the gourmet food catalogues, and John spent a half-hour looking over his shoulder poking fun at the product selections. When asked what he was ordering, Rodney resignedly admitted he'd already filled up his quota of space with electronic equipment that hadn't made it onto the official manifest.
It was then the basket caught John's eye.
The basket reminded John of Chaya, the terrible loneliness of her exile. He thought he knew loneliness, until she shared hers with him. Even the isolation of the time-dilation protected sanctuary was nothing compared to that desperate, hopeless, soul-consuming knowledge of alone, forever cut off from anything that mattered.
He'd been lonely and adrift in the sanctuary; nothing mattered, nobody cared. No ground to stand on, no sky to fly for. But even so, he would spend his life out there, years and decades with himself alone, than ascend to live that desolate eternity alone.
So he ordered the basket.
Not that he had a clear idea what to do with the basket. It'd be handy if he met someone, but really, what was the chance he'd actually meet someone before the food spoiled? Rodney would get a real kick out of it, though, even if the food was as terrible as John had razzed. He'd rib John for his doomed and ill-conceived romantic strategizing, even as he stuffed himself full with the food, critiquing each item in painstaking detail.
"Well, you don't have to eat it," John would grumble.
"And if I don't, who would?" Rodney would scoff.
The basket was sitting in the middle of the room when John got back from dinner with Norina, exactly where he'd left it when someone from the Daedalus had shown up with it just as he'd been leaving.
John walked to the bed and sat heavily, staring at the basket. Rodney deserved something nice, and Norina was nice. She'd be good for him -- but he would be so much better.
Shaken, John hugged himself tight, feeling the press of strong arms surround him, spreading him open, taking from him everything he had to give, and giving him all in return.
The jumper bay doors opened and Rodney was walking toward him, face drawn but determined.
How long had he loved this man, and how long had he denied it?
For Rodney never did anything halfway -- with him, it'd be all or nothing, with him, John would never again be alone.
Was he right about this? Could Rodney love him too? And even if he were wrong, what else could he do? There was no denying what the heart felt.
With him, without him. Together or apart. He'd always have this.
Steeling himself, John turned to meet his future.
The path was narrow, nearly non-existent. Rodney huffed and puffed up the steep climb, his bundle of blankets and pillows bulgy and awkward. John pressed steadily ahead, his basket and cooler heavy but easily maneuverable. Turning the bend, the path suddenly opened to a rolling glade atop a high cliff overlooking thick forest giving way to a wide plain stretching to the ocean beyond.
Rodney stared at the view, at John, blanket, pillow, food, drinks, and the cozy glade.
"What... what is this?"
John shrugged. "It's... whatever you want it to be."
"Whatever?"
John nodded.
Their joined gaze held each other's hearts.
Radek stood on the balcony, eyes on the horizon. Carson came up behind him, eyes also scanning the distant sky.
"They back yet?" Carson asked.
"Control says they should be here any minute."
The glint of the approaching jumper reflected off the ocean, skimming the waves and refracting into a thousand rays in the setting sunlight. The jumper arced gracefully, sweeping wide through the sky over the city spires.
"Taking their time, aren't they?"
"Hm," Radek nodded at the sky. "City would be beautiful, from there."
"Aye. It would."
Together, they watched as the jumper swung into final approach.