"If there's a disciplined center of the universe, you're on the planet that's farthest from."

For I have it no more. Discipline--not to be found hereabouts. Chocolate? Eaten. In bed on time? Not remotely. Writing longfic A, longfic B, or remixredux fic? Certainly not.

Entirely self-indulgent ficlet? ::fills in checkbox until paper dimples under volume of graphite::

Thanks to wickdzoot for being insufficiently dissuasive. *eg*

SG:Atlantis, McKay/Sheppard, G-rated (dammit), spoilers for "Suspicion" ("Suspicion"? Seriously, the hell? ::throws hands in air and gives up on self::)


Unforeseen


"Hands still bothering you?"

Rodney started at hearing Major Sheppard's voice beside him, though he covered it with an exasperated sigh as he turned away from his laptop.

If Rodney were the type of person who was prone to ridiculous anthropomorphizations of inanimate computer programs, he might have said that the schematics of Teyla's tracking necklace were mocking him, and he that was tired of it. Since he wasn't, he decided that he was simply--almost--happy for the distraction. Even if it came in the form of Major Sheppard, who tended to be more distracting than the situation called for. "Why do you ask?"

The major nodded down at Rodney's hands, and Rodney realized he'd been absently massaging his palm between the thumb and forefingers of his other hand. Not wringing his hands, whatever Sheppard might think... though, actually, that wasn't what the major had asked about this time. "Oh. It, ah, comes and goes."

There was no need to tell Sheppard that the tingling almost-numbness coincided with every new thought he had about what might have gone wrong--well, more wrong, given that "exploding Wraith" hadn't been part of the original plan--with the ambush they'd set up back on the planet. He'd had enough mocking about that, thank you.

But Sheppard just nodded again, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, I've been getting twinges from time to time, myself. Here, let me..."

Reaching out, he took Rodney's right hand between both of his.

Rodney was too surprised to pull his hand back right away, and then Sheppard's fingers were cradling the back of Rodney's hand, thumbs rubbing across his palm.

"Major?" His voice wavered, but Rodney was sure that was just from surprise.

Sheppard smiled, though he didn't raise his eyes from Rodney's hand. "It's almost impossible to give yourself a massage, you know? You're concentrating too hard to really relax."

His hands were warmer than Rodney expected, given that the major wore his jacket nearly all the time, as if he were constantly cold. Rodney blinked, and wondered when he'd decided how warm Sheppard's hands should be. Subconscious multitasking was certainly one of the benefits of being a genius, but having fully formed presuppositions about things he'd never consciously considered was a little disconcerting.

Sheppard looked up at him finally, though he was still kneading Rodney's hand, rolling Rodney's fingers between his fingertips in a way that felt surprisingly good. "What are you working on?" he asked, pointing his chin at Rodney's laptop.

Casually, as if he weren't doing anything to make this conversation differ from any other they'd had.

Well, if Sheppard was going to act as though essentially holding hands with a member of his team was standard operating procedure, then Rodney would take it in stride, too. "I'm trying to compare the signal from Teyla's necklace to the few readings we got from the planet, to see if there's anything we can extrapolate about Wraith communication protocols."

He flicked his eyes to the screen, but the analyses were still coming up inconclusive. "It's unfortunate that the signal shut down before we even found the transmitter. What we picked up when we were there the first time was largely accidental, since we weren't exactly scanning for deep-space communication devices at the time."

"Don't worry, Rodney." Sheppard smirked at him. "I don't expect even you to anticipate everything."

He dropped Rodney's right hand, picking up his left and going to work again before Rodney had a chance to protest. Though, really, at this point he wasn't sure that he would have, because Sheppard's hands were warm and gentle and oddly soothing, and saying something now would probably make this more awkward than it needed to be.

Then Rodney backed up to what Sheppard had said. "In fact, it is my job to prepare us for as many eventualities as possible, Major." He frowned. "I realize that trying to mitigate the damage in case of disaster isn't as positive an outlook as most people prefer, and that might keep me from being the most popular person on Atlantis, but someone has to prepare for the worst."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows, seeming genuinely interested. And almost--sad? No, of course not, because that hardly made sense. "You never hope for the best?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "The best possible outcome, by its very nature, doesn't require preparation. There are no negative consequences to deal with."

Sheppard stepped forward, and tilted his head down, looking Rodney right in the eye. "And what about the positive consequences?" His tone was teasing, but there was a serious undercurrent to it.

He realized that Sheppard had stopped massaging his hand, and really was just holding it, thumb stroking across Rodney's knuckles. His mouth was suddenly dry. "Positive consequences can be... positive," he said, and what the hell did that mean? It seemed to be the right thing to say, though, because Sheppard smiled a little, more with his eyes than his mouth, and moved closer.

Sheppard brought his free hand up to the side of Rodney's neck, and, yes, his hand was still unexpectedly warm, and Rodney knew he should get his thoughts under control, honestly, because Sheppard's hand wasn't nearly the most important thing here, but Sheppard was mesmerizing when he was this close and this intent and Rodney didn't think he should be expected to be in full command of his faculties when he could feel Sheppard's breath against his face. Sheppard murmured, "You seem nervous."

"No, no, no, it's good," Rodney said. And he'd again said the right thing, clearly, because Sheppard leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was light, almost tentative, and over regrettably quickly. Rodney opened his eyes to see Sheppard watching him carefully, a hint of concern in his eyes.

It hardly seemed fair, for the major to look so uncertain, when he'd gone to the trouble of taking a risk and kissing Rodney. It was only out of a sense of fairness, of course, that Rodney closed the distance between them and kissed Sheppard, that he licked Sheppard's lips apart and tasted the inside of his mouth, that he stroked Sheppard's tongue with his own and left them both breathing hard, arms wrapped loosely around each another.

Sheppard smiled at Rodney, as his hands moved restlessly across Rodney's back. "I have to tell you, I think you're wrong."

"About?" Rodney would have stepped back, but Sheppard tightened his arms, his smile growing mischievous.

"I think a person can be unprepared for positive consequences."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at Sheppard. He was finding it hard to be truly annoyed, though, what with Sheppard giving him a playful, hungry look, and not letting him go. No one had looked at him like that in quite a while, and Sheppard was particularly... compelling. "I never actually said they couldn't."

"You implied it."

"No, you inferred it." Sheppard was actually grinning now, and Rodney shook his head. "Wait, you're doing that on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to provoke me."

"Pretty much."

"Why, exactly?"

Sheppard looked shifty for a moment, then sighed. "Trying to take my mind off something." He ducked his head. "I was going to ask if you wanted to head back to my quarters..."

Patience never having been his strong suit, Rodney said, "And?"

Sheppard looked back up at him, and Rodney was caught by the look in his eyes, naked and serious. "And given what it's like to kiss you, I'm not sure I'm prepared for you to say yes." He took a deep breath and stood a little straighter. "Actually, it's more like... I'm not sure I'd be prepared to let you leave."

Oh, god. That flush of heat over his skin meant that Rodney was already in trouble, and he really would have appreciated a heads-up about that from his subconscious, thank you. Before he'd been confronted with a damnably tempting Sheppard would have been especially helpful.

He reached up a hand and brushed aside a few locks of Sheppard's hair, thankful that he didn't have to worry about messing it up, more thankful that it gave him something less frightening to focus on. He kept his tone light. "That shouldn't be an issue. While it's true that my physical charms are considerable, I seem to recall that the most complimentary way you’ve described my personality was 'obnoxious.' You'll be tired of me before you know it."

Sheppard was starting to grin again, almost shyly. "You promise? Because maybe I like obnoxious."

He gave a fleeting smile, one that he barely felt himself. "I'd give it a high degree of certainty, yes."

This was a phenomenally bad idea, because that grin made something hitch in Rodney's chest in a way that he entirely didn't want. Sheppard had only expressed physical interest in him, to be honest, and Rodney was sure it was just a lark, just boredom and a few too many close calls in too few days.

Sheppard pulled him into another kiss, making the idea of heading back to his quarters seem not just reasonable, but really, really excellent, despite how completely screwed Rodney was. Because it wasn't bad enough that Rodney wanted this to happen.

No, idiotically, he somehow wanted this to work.

And he just didn't think that was possible.

***

Hey, mmmchelle? Every damn episode, right on track... ::facepalms::