"Sir?" Carter pushes open the door to Jack's cabin, which is ajar, and hears a string of curses from the kitchen and one to match from the waterfront. "Daniel?"
Rodney hovers behind Dr. Frasier, obediently holding a bowl of something Janet assures him is called ambrosia, but which looks like marshmallows and fruit cocktail, wondering which of her teammates Carter will rush to the aid of first. She doesn't. Teal'c comes up behind them all with his arms full of beer by the case and Rodney backs out of the way as Janet takes control of the situation, barking out orders to him and Teal'c and Sam which they all scatter to obey.
In the yard, where he's been instructed to put the ambrosia on the picnic table (which picnic table? Rodney wonders when he gets there) Rodney finds Jack and a man he knows to be Samantha's father having a friendly -- he hopes it's friendly, at least -- argument about coal temperature and meat proximity that he desperately wants to contribute to but doesn't dare. Jacob Carter is nearly as frightening to him as Teal'c, by sheer virtue of the fact that he knows he's got in his head the same thing Teal'c's got in his belly. By choice.
A streak of pure energy shoots past him in a purple two-piece bathing-suit. Rodney hasn't spent several hours in a car with a teenaged girl since Jeannie was that age, and at this point he's not certain whether it's Cassie or him that's more grateful for the relative freedom of the O'Neill family cabin. Well, until Cassie goes running into the pond, and then it's fairly clear it's not him.
Jackson and Teal'c come out of the cabin with coolers full of ice, the former pulling one behind him and the latter carrying one on either shoulder. Per her majesty Queen Janet I, they start thrusting cans of beer and soda into the ice to chill. Rodney hesitates, wondering whether he should go into the cabin and see what Samantha and Dr. Fraiser want him to do next, or take the initiative and offer Jackson and Teal'c a hand, until Sam's dad throws his hands up in the air and stalks into the cabin.
"Dr. McKay," O'Neill says, pinning him with a look. "Glad to see you survived the ride. Grab me a beer, wouldja."
It's not a request so much as an order, so Rodney scrambles for a can of beer and puts it into O'Neill's hand. "Yes, I, um, I haven't been in a--"
"Really don't care. You wanna let Carter and Napoleon know my grill is ready when they are?"
Rodney isn't fooling himself. He knows the only reason he's been invited along is because he made the mistake of admitting to Dr. Fraiser and General Hammond under duress that he didn't have any plans for the holiday weekend. He's Canadian; why would he? But it appears that Colonel O'Neill is the only one who either didn't get or didn't read the memo instructing them all to act like they want him there, and Rodney actually finds his honesty refreshing, so he offers O'Neill a half-smile before obediently heading into the cabin.
It feels like he's intruding on a family moment, somehow, when he walks into the kitchen to find Jacob Carter with one arm around Samantha's shoulder and the other around Dr. Fraiser's. He's planting a kiss on the latter's cheek and asking how his girls are, and for a minute Rodney wonders whether the spicy southern belle has something going with Sam's dad. Then Jacob backs away and, having not noticed Rodney standing there watching, Sam and Dr. Fraiser fill the space between them by slipping their arms around each other's waists. Oh. Ohh.
Well, no wonder Samantha's not interested in him.
Rodney watches his mental tally of the average IQ of his potential future offspring fall, and then clears his throat.
Samantha and Janet spring apart, and Sam exclaims, "McKay!"
Holding up his hands in a defensive gesture, he comes into the kitchen. "Please, don't... don't. I know I'm putting a crimp on everyone's holiday weekend, and really... that's the most ridiculous reason I can think of."
It earns him two bright, beaming smiles from two bright, beautiful women, which is no small prize, and Jacob claps him on the shoulder. "Why don't we go see if Daniel and Teal'c need any help outside, son?" he asks, steering Rodney out of the kitchen.
"Huh? Oh. I, uh -- Colonel O'Neill says the grill is ready," he calls over his shoulder as he's all but dragged outside to let the two women have some private time before the festivities pick up.
"Dr. McKay," Jackson says coldly, when Jacob parks him on the grass beside him.
Teal'c inclines his head and echoes, "Doctor McKay," somehow making it sound a lot more friendly than he'd expected.
"McKay and I got ourselves kicked out of the kitchen," Jacob fibs easily, grabbing a beer and cracking it open. He gives Jackson an odd wink, and Jackson gives Rodney a startled look before glancing back at the cabin. Rodney can't help but feel like these people are in possession of some kind of non-verbal communication technology and it's really not fair. "Anything we can do to lend a hand?"
"I'm going to see if Jack needs any help with the grill," Jackson says, dusting off his pants and heading over to where O'Neill is cursing at the smoking grill again. Rodney hasn't seen anyone add anything to it, and wonders for a moment what O'Neill could possibly be burning already before he decides he probably doesn't want to know.
"Daniel Jackson and I had just finished submerging the beverages to chill for later consumption," Teal'c offers up, and Rodney can feel a sarcastic, 'no, really?' on the tip of his tongue when the General pulls up in his camper and saves him from a potentially fatal verbal blunder. As soon as the camper's in park, there are two more streaks of pure energy headed for the pond, leaving Rodney reeling in their wake.
"My granddaughters," George Hammond explains, unneccessarily, as he steps out of the camper. "I'm sure you understand now why I didn't offer to drive you myself."
Rodney didn't think he'd ever be grateful for being trapped in a car with a big, scary Jaffa and a small, scary teenager for hours on end. "Yes, sir," Rodney nods. "Uh, thank you, sir." Rodney doesn't know how to handle children of any age, which is the main reason he hasn't spoken to his sister since he found out she was pregnant. He doesn't hate her, not by a long shot. He's disappointed, of course, because she threw away what could have been an amazing career on some English major, but mostly he's just scared that he won't know what to do with her kid and then he'll be a disappointment to her, which he's sure he couldn't handle.
Once Janet and Samantha know that the General's arrived, Rodney and Teal'c, Jacob and Jackson are put to work hauling things from the kitchen. Big bowls of macaroni salad and potato salad are put out on the picnic table with a crock pot full of the General's homemade chili. O'Neill is provided with plenty of things to char: hot dogs, hamburgers, steaks and pieces of chicken smothered in barbecue sauce, and to his great disgust ("Not that I have anything against fish, Carter, but I'm not skanking my grill up with your girly crap. There's a perfectly good oven and range-top in there that won't stink for three weeks after.") some marinated fish fillets which he abjectly refuses to let touch his grill.
Once the smell of grilled meats fills the air, three waterlogged girls are drawn from the pond by their growling stomachs and summarily checked for leeches despite O'Neill's insistance that there aren't any more leeches in his pond than there are trout.
It's clear from their words and actions that these people are a family, brought together by their jobs but kept there by love, and Rodney is struck quite suddenly by the idea that he wants what they have. Not with them, perhaps. Considering, of course, that he's never met Jacob Carter or the underage female contingent before today, there isn't a soul there who'd spend their holiday with him by choice, and he's not sure he could blame them. It's always been said that the best defense is a good offense, and Rodney McKay has always been good at offending people. About four beers later, when O'Neill's loosened up, he snakes his arm around Jackson's waist and whispers something everyone rightfully assumes is dirty into the laughing archaeologist's ear before nipping at it with his teeth. Rodney decides he's really got to work on his people reading skills. Samantha and Dr. Fraiser came completely out of left field, but O'Neill and his pet linguist? He should have seen that one coming.
~*~
"While I agree that it would be a kind gesture to give John a party in honor of his nation's holiday, Rodney, neither Ronon nor I know anything about their day of independence," Teyla says patiently, exchanging a glance with Ronon as though she's seeking confirmation that Rodney has them both stumped.
"Oh, neither do I," Rodney says breezily. "But we don't have to know about the holiday, just about the celebration, and I know that much! I've been to an Independence Day celebration, when I was working for the SGC."
Ronon doesn't point out that Rodney's technically still working for them now. "Yeah, and?"
"And what? And we need to have a barbecue! With fireworks!"
Teyla and Ronon look at each other as though they are considering bringing Rodney to visit Doctors Beckett and Heightmeyer at any moment. "Barbecue?" Teyla prompts.
"Fireworks?" Ronon echoes. He seems to like the sound of that part of the festivities.
"Yes, of course. Radek will be able to concoct some pretty explosions, I'm sure. And we'll need lots of meat. Oh! And potato salad!" Rodney's already walked away, and Ronon and Teyla follow after him, trying to follow the his thready train of thought as only those who know and love him can.
~*~
Ronon growls and slaps Rodney's hand away from the makeshift grill, where he's patiently turning pieces of meat dripping with juices and sauce over a stack of coals. "One more time, and I use the knife," he says darkly, and Rodney nearly backs into Teyla in his haste to escape that potential fate.
"Teyla!" His eyes light up and then his face falls. "What... what is that?"
"It is a traditional Athosian dish, made from cooked tubers and not dissimilar to the recipe Lieutenant Cadman gave me for what you called potato salad. I thought perhaps it would be nice to intertwine our cultural--"
"I don't care if they're tubers, Teyla!" Rodney exclaims with perhaps an overabundance of dismay and frustration. "That's not potato salad!"
"Is it not?" Teyla frowns. "I read the recipe quite carefully, and I assure you that the similarities were unmistakable--"
"To start with," Rodney sighs, "it's blue."
John has followed his nose to the east pier; apparently Lorne has no desire to eat his share of the goodies, because it was his job to keep the Colonel from doing just that. "Rodney, you wanna tell me what's going on?"
Rodney spins, the bowl in his hands, and looks utterly horrified. "Sheppard!"
John blinks. "Is that blue potato salad?" He sticks his finger into the bowl and samples it. "Cool."
"Sorry, McKay," Lorne says, jogging up behind John. "He slipped his leash in the labs. I hope this doesn't mean--"
"Check it out," John grins, taking the bowl of potato salad from Rodney's hand and showing it to Lorne, who raises an eyebrow and looks faintly green. "Who made this? It's pretty good."
Teyla looks smug, and Rodney crumples into a chair, discouraged. "Teyla did. Ronon did the barbecuing. Knock yourself out. I'm going to go... throw myself off one of the other piers, possibly." He makes no move to leave, though.
Ronon and Teyla do that look thing again, and Ronon rolls his eyes before telling John, "McKay mentioned it was some national holiday or something...?"
"The Fourth of July," John perks up. "I didn't think anyone else remembered. Is there beer?"
Rodney, looking miserable, points to an Igloo cooler full of beer on ice. He hasn't missed a single detail.
"Sweet." John grabs two cans and drops down to sit on the floor beside Rodney, forcing one of the cans into his buddy's hand. "Looks like you got everything. Beer, barbecue... is there watermelon? McKay, I swear if you tell me there's ice cream I'll marry you."
Rodney manages a grunted laugh. "Chocolate and strawberry. I suppose you'll want to wait a year so you can be a June bride?" Everyone else realizes they can breathe now; John's defused the McKay bomb.
John nudges Rodney's knee with his shoulder and holds his beer up in a salute. "Get a couple more of these in me, and I'll even ask Teyla to be my maid of honor."
Lorne has edged his way closer to the cooler. "Are these for anybody?"
John says yes at the same time Rodney says no, and Lorne looks triumphant as he fishes a beer out of the ice. He nearly drops it when there's a loud boom and an explosion of colorful light over the city. Everyone's headsets come alive at once, and they all cringe at Elizabeth's voice yelling, "RODNEY! My office, now."
Zelenka's voice comes over the radio. "Sorry. Erm, sorry, everyone. That was a test shot. The city isn't, um, isn't actually under attack."
John's eyes light up and he bounces to his feet like a little kid. "Rodney, you didn't."
Teyla smiles. "Whatever it is that you are asking, I think it is safe to say that he did. Rodney has been..."
"Annoying?" Lorne supplies.
"Exhausting?" Ronon adds.
"Tireless," Teyla finishes, shooting them both a sharp look. "It was very important to him that this day be special for you, John."
John looks like he's going to explode, he's so happy. "This is great," he gushes. "You guys are amazing. This guy," he says, hauling Rodney from his chair and slinging an arm around him gleefully. "This guy is incredible. Can you believe him?"
"I try not to," Lorne mutters under his breath.
Rodney puts up a token resistance as John leads him away from the crowd. "Where are we going?"
John gives Rodney that look, the one that says 'if you weren't so adorable, you'd never get away with being so dense all the time.' "First, we're going to get you off the hook with Elizabeth," he explains. "And then, I've got the perfect spot to watch the fireworks from."
Rodney, caught up in John's exhuberence, laughs. He doesn't have the heart to tell him that he, at least, won't actually be watching the pyrotechnics. Not when there's a far more appealing light show going on in John's eyes. Not when he knows for once that he's the one to put it there.
About four beers later, when the fireworks are over and everyone's gone to their quarters to sleep off Satedan barbecue, blue potato salad and chocolate ice cream, John snakes his arm around Rodney's waist and brings his face in close to Rodney's; he whispers a thank you. His hot, damp breath tickles Rodney's ear, but not as much as the tongue and teeth that follow it. Rodney decides he's got to enroll in a course, or something. He can almost see missing the signs with Jackson and O'Neill, but this? This he really should have seen a mile away. As he finds out the next morning, everyone else did.