Rodney
I knew from the minute I woke up with John spooned up behind me, his arm tight around my waist, that I was going to be a total girl about this. And I think we all know what happens to girls in the presence of John Sheppard at his most charming. Unfortunately for me, women are designed for subtlety and stealth in such matters. Men (who may or may not happen to also be huge girls) are... not.
I wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved by the fact that he was apparently in the same shape I was; in the end I chalked it up to two guys, way too used to sleeping alone, accidentally winding up with a bedmate. A warm body, to an unconscious man, is a warm body. At least it would save me embarrassment, if I was caught sporting wood when I got up. What really scared me was the fact that I didn't actually want to get up.
It was strange, having Sheppard acting so nice. Conspiring with my little sister toward who-even-knew what end, and worrying about me, and... letting me talk things out that I didn't even know I wanted to get off my chest until I'd said them. Strange, but also nice.
If I was really honest with myself, I'd say I could get used to it pretty quickly. I lean on John a lot, and we both know it, but knowing he didn't mind it felt pretty great. And I kind of found myself wanting to let him know that it was okay to lean back. It wasn't the same for me as it was for him, though. I had Carson, and I had John, and... well, Carson was gone now. John had people lining up to help him bear his burdens, and the last thing I wanted to be was just another faceless member of the John Sheppard Fan Club. Especially when there were times that I felt like I'd become some kind of a patchwork man, a Frankenstein's monster, made up of parts: parts of the person I used to be, and parts of Sheppard. The bits of me I like the most, I think, came from him.
Not that I'd ever admit that to him. God, can you imagine the humiliation? First of all, it pains me just to think of him as part of who I am, because it's just so... listen, I don't have ovaries, okay?
I must have stayed there like that for a good fifteen minutes, trying to figure out how best to extricate myself from John's arms, when he went and figured it out for me. He rolled over onto his other side, still warm and close but not as close, and I guess -- because I'm a total girl, remember? -- that I felt all lonely or something, all of a sudden. So instead of taking the out he gave me (and I'm still convinced that's exactly what he was doing) I rolled right over after him. Idiot! Because all I really needed, when laying in bed with both John and an erection, was for the former to have intimate knowledge of the existence of the latter.
And what did he do? He said, "Morning, Rodney." He was awake and smirking; I, on the other hand, was mortified.
I froze; John checked his watch.
"Why don'tcha go back to sleep and save the identity crisis for a reasonable hour, huh? I heard a rumor there's gonna be French toast in the mess today. You can wig out at me over breakfast."
The man is a saint.
I didn't go back to sleep. I couldn't. My brain wouldn't stop working, trying to puzzle out when, exactly, it became accepted to wake up in the arms of my very male friend, with warm fuzzies and wussy codependency issues. Could I have done this any night I wanted? Could I have come to his room and... been held and comforted, after the Rod-and-Jeannie fiasco? The night Carson died? Had I been missing the signs of a deepening friendship like the self-absorbed, socially inept moron I've been told I can occasionally be?
The answer, as I realized when John pulled my arm tighter around him and started snoring at me, was probably yes.
We were saved from that identity crisis breakfast discussion freak-out
by an emergency; Lorne's team was offworld and (of course) ran into some trouble
-- I swear at least half our time is spent saving their asses -- so I got to
experience the rare pleasure of being crammed in the back of a jumper for over
an hour with Radek, Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, Cadman, and two marines I'd never met
before. Admittedly Cadman and I were banished to the back for bickering about
Carson. She was upset at not being asked to be a pallbearer. She thought the
numbers should have been evenly split between military and civilians, and I
argued that Dr. Cole was actually a friend of Carson's, whereas she
was just some flirty marine who used my lips to molest him a year ago
and then never paid any more attention to him afterwards. We might possibly
have degenerated to name-calling and actual, physical hair-pulling before John
threatened to turn the jumper around and threw us in the back with the rest
of the rabble, keeping the third nameless marine to help navigate, which was
my job.
I didn't know when we'd find time to have that conversation, but I couldn't help wondering what it could mean that the identity crisis John had predicted didn't seem to be imminent any longer. Shouldn't I have been freaking out still?
Jeannie
"Yes!" I exclaimed. Kaleb and Maddie watched me with great interest as I closed the laptop and set it aside.
"I take it you're having luck playing intergalactic Yenta for your brother?" Kaleb asked, setting the table for dinner. I wrinkled my nose; I'll never tell Kaleb, let alone admit it to Mer, but tofurkey doesn't exactly rate up there in my top ten favorite foods.
"We have confirmed snuggling and something that sounds suspiciously like a first date," I told him, portioning out mashed potatoes for Madison. "They watched a movie together, in John's room. I'm sure Mer doesn't have a clue yet, but John sounded excited."
"You can tell he's excited from an email?" Kaleb frowned. And ducked a balled-up napkin. "Okay, he's excited, he's excited. Why, exactly, is he excited? It's not that I don't like your brother, sweetie, it's just that... well, nobody likes your brother."
"Kaleb!"
"Except your brother," he said, ducking another napkin. Maddie shrieked with laughter. "And apparently you!" I have really good aim. "And this nutjob Air Force Colonel. Isn't it illegal to be gay where he's from?"
"It's not illegal, so much as... okay, heavily frowned on to the point of possible courtmartial but that's not the point! Atlantis is an international outpost, not an American one, and their homophobic and quite probably brain damaged president and his minions don't get a say in my brother's love life!"
"But you do."
"Of course I do!" I was out of napkins; I contemplated throwing a Brussels sprout but I didn't want to set a bad example for Madison. "I want to see him happy, Kaleb. He should get a chance to have this, what we have. More so now that he -- and I never thought I'd say this in a million years -- devotes his life to keeping the universe safe."
Kaleb couldn't argue with that. He sat down and contemplated his tofurkey. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up for nothing. Rodney doesn't exactly seem like he's easy to love."
I beamed. "He doesn't have to be. John knows he's worth the effort. He's the one who reminded me of that."