Fic: In the Family Way (3/11)

[rusty_armour]

Title: In the Family Way (3/11)
Author: Rusty Armour
Pairing: McShep, Beckett/Other
Summary: Some are born into families; others create their own.
Word Count: 4,843
Category: Slash, MPreg, AU
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Pretty much everything up to and including season three.
Disclaimer: Thou Shalt Not Steal. Even in the interest of fic. Most of these characters aren't mine. I, uh, borrowed them. Yeah.

---

"I can't believe how well Jeannie's taking the news," Rodney said. "I thought she'd freak out for sure."

Carson smiled weakly, trying to smother his guilt over deceiving both siblings. He had been tempted to tell Rodney what Jeannie really thought of his pregnancy, but Rodney was happy for the first time in days, and Carson wasn't about to shatter the illusion, no matter how much his conscience nagged him.

"Not bad, eh?" Rodney's eyes were fixed on the plate of chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table, but Carson assumed he was referring to Jeannie's house. Carson gave the living room a perfunctory glance.

"It's lovely," he said.

"Why, thank you." Jeannie emerged from the basement, lugging a laundry basket. "It's amazing what a difference it makes when you can actually see surfaces." She set the basket down on the couch next to Rodney. "Enjoy it while it lasts. It'll be a different story when Andrew comes home."

Rodney tore his eyes from the plate of cookies. "Ah, Andrew. Uh, when is he coming home exactly?"

Jeannie pulled some towels from the laundry basket. "Are you sure you're okay sleeping on the couch?" she asked Carson.

"Oh, yes," Carson said. "You get used to sleeping in some rather odd places when you're a doctor. Well, when you sleep at all, that is."

Rodney snorted. "Says the man who slept a solid eight hours last night."

"It was more like seven." Carson smiled at Jeannie. "The couch will be fine."

"In that case, Rodney can help me make up the bed in the basement," Jeannie said. She tossed a sock at her brother's head. Rodney grumbled under his breath, but still rose from the couch. Carson was about to get up himself, but Jeannie put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. We can handle it." She leaned forward to whisper in Carson's ear. "I know what Rodney can be like. I'm sure you could use a break."

Carson was about to argue that he didn't need a break, that he and Rodney had spent most of the day watching TV in their motel room, when Rodney turned and glared at them.

"I heard that," he said.

Jeannie rolled her eyes. "Shout if you need anything."

"All right," Carson said. "Thanks." He had a feeling that the real reason Jeannie was giving him a break was so that she could spend some time with her brother. When they hadn't returned from the basement fifteen minutes later, his suspicions were confirmed. Smiling to himself, he started reading another article in The Mirror. He was almost halfway through it when the front door opened and a little boy walked into the house.

Carson watched as the boy, ignorant of his presence, dropped his backpack on the floor and yanked off his sneakers. Then the boy looked up and froze when he saw the stranger sitting in his living room.

"Hello," Carson said. "You must be Andrew." He held out his hand. "I'm Carson."

The boy stared at him. With his dark hair and big brown eyes, he didn't bear much resemblance to his mother or uncle. "Are you my mom's friend?"

"Actually, I only just met your mum today," Carson said. "I'm your Uncle Rodney's friend."

"Oh." Andrew almost sounded disappointed. Then his face scrunched up as if he were thinking about what Carson had just told him. "Uncle Rodney?" he asked.

"Aye, he's in the basement with your mum. He's helping her put the spare room together." Though Carson wondered how much Rodney was helping as opposed to hindering. "We're both going to be staying here for a while." When the boy didn't say anything in response, Carson said, "I hope that's okay."

Andrew shrugged. "I guess." He walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. Carson put down the paper and followed. Andrew was pouring himself a glass of apple juice. Some of it dribbled on the counter, but Andrew didn't seem to care. It wasn't until he had returned the tin to the fridge that he noticed Carson. "Oh, would you like some?"

"No, it's all right, son." Carson leaned against the counter and watched in amazement as Andrew swallowed almost the entire glass of juice in one gulp. "Are you allergic to citrus?" he asked.

Andrew swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "What's citrus? Is it, like, oranges and stuff?"

"Yes, that's right," Carson said. "Oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit. I thought you might be allergic because you're drinking apple juice."

Andrew drained the rest of his glass. "I drink apple juice because I like it, but I think I had an allergy test when I was little."

Carson nodded. "Aye, your mum probably had you tested because your uncle's allergic to citrus."

"I know." Andrew tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "I met Uncle Rodney when I was a baby, but I don't remember."

Carson chuckled. "Well, no, I suppose you wouldn't."

"Mom says I spit up all over him," Andrew said. "Do you think that's why Uncle Rodney didn't want to see me again?"

"No, of course not! I'm sure it's just because your uncle has been busy with work and…" Carson trailed off when he realized Andrew wasn't really listening.

Oblivious to Carson's concern, Andrew was rooting through a cupboard for snacks. "Mom says Uncle Rodney is really smart and he'd like me because I'm good at math." He tossed a glance over his shoulder at Carson and rolled his eyes. "Math's okay, but it's not hockey."

"Yes, your mum mentioned that you play hockey. Uh…what position?" Carson asked, hoping he had used the right terminology. Andrew, a box of crackers clutched to his chest, spun around. His face lit up.

"Forward," he said. "I've played left wing the last two games. Do you play hockey?"

Carson bit his lip. "Uh, no. To be honest, I don't know a lot about it."

"Oh." Andrew regarded Carson with something close to pity. Then he suddenly grinned. "I could teach you!" He tugged on Carson's sleeve, and Carson allowed himself to be led from the kitchen. After Andrew finished rifling through a box full of video tapes, they were sitting on the couch watching a hockey game. As Andrew explained the rules, strategies and even some of the stats, Carson was reminded of all the times Rodney presented his scientific findings at a briefing or came up with some theory to save Atlantis. Andrew spoke in the same animated manner, eyes bright, hands gesturing wildly.

When Rodney and Jeannie emerged from the basement, they gaped at the pair until Carson saw them from the corner of his eye.

"Andrew's been teaching me about hockey," Carson said.

Jeannie recovered first. "Uh, yes, I can see that." She smiled and shook her head. "I hope you realize that you'll never be able to leave now, that you've just become his best friend." She glanced at Andrew. "Did you at least offer the poor man a drink before you inflicted hockey on him?"

Andrew nodded absently. "Yeah, I asked him if he wanted apple juice, but he said no."

"Big surprise," Jeannie mumbled. "Look, turn that off for a minute and come meet Uncle Rodney."

Andrew hit the stop button with an exaggerated sigh and stood up. Carson and Jeannie watched in amusement as he sized his uncle up. As the seconds passed, Rodney looked more and more anxious. Finally, he whispered to Jeannie, "Am I supposed to hug him or something?"

Jeannie swatted his arm. "Yes, you're supposed to hug him! He's your nephew!"

Rodney swallowed nervously, while Andrew just grimaced. When neither Rodney nor Andrew made any further move, Jeannie snapped, "Andrew, give your uncle a hug."

Andrew crossed his arms and pouted. "Do I have to?"

"That depends," Jeannie said. "Do you want supper tonight? I was going to make Kraft Dinner."

Kraft Dinner?" Rodney rushed past Jeannie and swept Andrew up in his arms.

"Gee, this is so touching," Jeannie said. "If only there was film in my camera." She frowned when Andrew started struggling. "You can stop now, Rodney. You're starting to creep me out."

"Are you really making "KD for supper?" Rodney asked.

"Yes!"

"Well, okay, then," Rodney said. He instantly released Andrew, who backed several feet away from his uncle.


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


Carson stared at the pieces of hotdog floating in a sea of ketchup and vivid orange macaroni.

"I'm sorry," Jeannie said. "I'm so sorry."

Carson managed to tear his eyes away from Andrew's plate, quickly swallowing his disgust. "No, it's delicious."

Jeannie gave him a skeptical look. "You've barely touched it."

Carson glanced at Rodney, who was shovelling food into his mouth as if it were his last meal. "I'm a slow eater."

"Look, it's okay," Jeannie said. "I didn't have a chance to go grocery shopping and had to make do with what was in the house." Her eyes shifted to Andrew's plate. "This isn't exactly my best effort."

Rodney paused mid-bite. "It isn't?"

Jeannie glared at him. "No, it isn't."

"I don't know what the problem is," Rodney said. "I think this tastes great."

"Me too," Andrew said around a full mouth of Kraft Dinner.

"And it's nutritious." Rodney waved at his own plate, which, thankfully, was more orange than red. "With the hot dogs, you've got some kind of protein, with the powdered cheese sauce you've almost met a dairy requirement, and with the ketchup there's, uh, starch."

Jeannie rolled her eyes. "Rodney, you think stale cheesies are good."

"Well, they are," Rodney said. "They're nice and crunchy."

Jeannie put her head in her hands. "I think I'd better go grocery shopping tonight."

"You're tired," Rodney said. "Why don't you go tomorrow?"

"Because I probably won't have time." Jeannie massaged her temples. "I've got to be at the coffee shop to cover the morning shift. Then I have to work a double shift at Neptuna because--" She bit back what she'd been about to say, but Carson still figured it out. He knew Jeannie was working the double shift to make up for the fact that she'd missed work today. By the guilty look on Rodney's face, he had worked it out too.

Rodney cleared his throat. "Uh, I could go grocery shopping for you."

Jeannie raised her head from her hands. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Well, I don't exactly have plans for tomorrow," Rodney said, "and I want to do it."

Jeannie eyed him suspiciously. "You want to go grocery shopping?"

Rodney wasn't phased. "Yeah. I mean, it's not like I really have the chance any more, what with living on--"

"The research base," Carson said.

Rodney nodded. "Uh, right. The research base."

Jeannie still didn't look convinced, but she let it go. "Okay, I'll make out a list and give you some money."

Rodney's fork hovered in mid-air. "What will I need those for?"

Jeannie spoke slowly and carefully, as if addressing a small child. "The list is so you know what to get, and the money is what you'll need to pay for it."

Rodney set his fork down on the table. "I'll be paying for the groceries."

"The hell you will." Jeannie didn't sound happy. Carson and Andrew both glanced at her nervously, but Rodney didn't even flinch.

"I know you said you didn't want any money," Rodney said, "but I need to pay for something."

Jeannie's hands curled into fists. "I don't want your money, Rodney. You’re a guest and you're family."

"I'm also an extra mouth to feed," Rodney said. "If we were staying anywhere else, I'd have to pay for my accommodation and meals." He fixed his sister with a pout Carson knew he'd borrowed from John Sheppard. "At least let me contribute something."

Jeannie sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. You can pay for half the groceries, but only half."

Rodney smiled triumphantly. "Okay, only half, but I don't need a grocery list." The smile faded when Jeannie simply stared at him. "What?" he demanded.

"Andrew's a growing boy and needs more than just junk food," Jeannie said.

Rodney huffed indignantly. "Jeannie, please. He's my nephew. I have only his best interests at heart." He leaned towards Andrew and whispered, "So what brand of hotdogs do you prefer? Schneiders?"

Jeannie groaned. "I'm making a list."

"Aye, and I'll go with him to make sure he follows it," Carson said.

Jeannie shot him a look of gratitude. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that." She took a sip of water, ignoring Rodney's irritated scowl. "Speaking of food, I'm afraid you guys will be on your own for dinner tomorrow night, but Andrew will be at a sleepover so at least you'll have the place to yourselves."

Andrew bit his bottom lip. "Uh, Mom…"

Jeannie raised an eyebrow at her son's anxious tone. "Yes, Andrew?"

"I was supposed to tell you. Britney's sick so there isn't going to be a sleepover," Andrew said.

Jeannie's face fell. "What? Oh, Andrew!"

"I'm sorry!"

"You could have told me sooner!"

"I forgot!"

Jeannie shook her head. "She's your best friend and you forgot. Well, that's just great." She stood up and snatched the cordless phone from the living room. "Now I've got to hunt down a babysitter."

"Ask Megan," Andrew said. "I like Megan." He smiled almost dreamily.

Jeannie's grip on the phone tightened. "I know you like Megan," she growled. "Every kid on the street likes Megan. But I may not be able to get her because you waited until now to tell me."

Andrew banged his fork on the table. "I said I was sorry!"

Jeannie ignored her son and started jabbing the buttons on the phone.

Carson cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt, but why couldn't Rodney and I baby-sit Andrew?"

Jeannie dropped the phone and stared at Carson blankly. "What?"

"I second that. What?" Rodney said. Then he winced as Carson kicked him under the table. "On the other hand, I suppose I could use the, uh, practice."

Jeannie was still staring at Carson. "Umm…do you really think that's a good idea, what with Rodney's…" She twirled her hand elaborately.

"My what?" Rodney asked.

Jeannie blushed and lowered her eyes to the table. "Your medical condition, Rodney."

"Oh, that." Rodney waved off her concern with a flick of his wrist. "I'm only about eight weeks along, and it's not as if I'm planning on doing anything strenuous, like lifting the kid." He shot a sharp look at Andrew. "I won't have to lift you, will I?"

Andrew glanced from his uncle to his mother in confusion. "Medical condition?"

Jeannie gritted her teeth. "We'll talk about it later, Andrew."

"I don't mind if you tell him now," Rodney said. "He's going to find out about it sooner or later." Rodney laid a hand across his belly and patted it in an almost affectionate manner.

Andrew didn't miss the gesture and was now brimming with curiosity. "Tell me what?"

Jeannie took a deep calming breath. "I would rather talk to Andrew about this privately, when the time is right."

"Oh…" Rodney smiled smugly. "You haven't had 'the talk' yet, have you?"

Jeannie blushed even more. "That's none of your business, Rodney."

"Look," Rodney said. "He's probably already heard all about it from his little friends in the schoolyard."

Some of the confusion lifted from Andrew's face. "Is this about sex?" he asked.

Rodney jumped up and down in his chair, pointing at his nephew excitedly. "See! I told you!"

"Oh God." Jeannie slumped across the table, her head falling on her arms.

"What's the big deal?" Rodney said. "Mom told me about the birds and the bees when I was about Andrew's age."

Jeannie's head jerked up. "Mom only told you because she was pregnant with me, and you kept asking her why she was getting so fat!"

Carson, who had been doing his best to stay out of the family squabble and force down his meal, immediately began choking on a piece of macaroni. Jeannie leapt out of her chair and pushed a glass of water into his hand, while Rodney thumped him on the back ineffectually. Carson eventually coughed enough to clear his airway then gulped down some of the water.

"Mom," Andrew said, when it was clear the crisis was over, "if they baby-sit me are we going to be talking about sex because it's gross and-and I want to watch the game."

Jeannie beamed at her son with an expression of love, tenderness and relief. "Of course you don't have to talk about sex and you can watch as much hockey as you like."


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


At first, Carson thought he was dreaming, but when he rolled over and felt a painful twinge in his neck, it was still there. It was faint and sounded like gunfire. Carson focused on the sound again. It was almost like an energy weapon: Ronon's pistol or maybe a Wraith blaster.

Carson's eyes flew open and he scrambled to sit up. That was when he realized the Wraith weren't attacking Atlantis. He wasn't even in the Pegasus Galaxy anymore, but lying on a couch in a Scarborough living room. It was dark except for the glow of the TV. Carson squinted and was able to make out a small pyjama-clad back. Andrew was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Carson shifted to get a better look at what the boy was watching and his sheets rustled. Andrew twisted around to stare at him.

"Did I wake you up?" Andrew whispered.

Carson rubbed his face groggily. "No, no, I was just dozing."

"Oh, okay. Would you like some breakfast. I can make cereal." Andrew lifted a bowl for Carson to inspect in the dark. Carson couldn't be sure, but he thought the milk looked pink.

"It's all right," Carson said. "You're watching your show."

"It's okay. I've seen this one." Andrew sprang to his feet and, not knowing what to do with his bowl, he thrust it into Carson's hands. Carson looked down and saw that the milk was, indeed, pink.

Andrew poked his head through the kitchen hatch. "What kind of cereal do you want?"

Carson gulped, knowing he might live to regret this. "Surprise me," he said.

When Andrew returned to the living room, they exchanged cereal bowls, and Carson was surprised when, instead of squatting in front of the TV, Andrew flopped down beside him on the couch. About twelve hours later, they were sitting on the same couch watching a hockey game and eating pizza.

The pizza had been Rodney's idea. Despite Carson's warning about how his stomach might react to the spices, Rodney had insisted that it was an essential component to the whole babysitting experience. When the pizza arrived, Rodney was forced to take his nose out of the newspaper long enough to notice the hockey game. He looked at his nephew and shook his head. "You're a Canadian cliché. Do you realize that?"

Andrew's brow creased. "What's a cliché?"

Carson grinned mischievously. "It means your Uncle Rodney thinks you're very special," he said.

Andrew blushed and looked away. "Oh, um, thanks," he mumbled.

Rodney glared at Carson before swooping down to snatch two slices of pizza from the open box on the coffee table. Then he raised the paper again and ignored the game. "I take it you're not a hockey fan, then," Carson said.

Rodney snorted. "Please. Hockey is practically a religion here, and you know how I feel about religion."

Andrew frowned at his uncle in disappointment, and Carson patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. Rodney didn't speak again until the end of the first period, when a commentator announced that the referee would probably be sending one of the Leafs to the sin bin after he had purposely slammed a Ranger into the boards.

Carson raised an eyebrow at Andrew. "Sin bin?" he asked.

"Penalty box," Rodney said, beating Andrew to the answer. He froze when he realized what he'd done then scowled at Carson and Andrew when they made no attempt to hide their delight. "It's impossible to grow up in this country and not pick up some of it by osmosis."

Carson eyed Rodney incredulously. "Sin bin?"

"Okay, okay," Rodney said. "Maybe I've watched a game or two in my time. I mean, really, who hasn't?"

Andrew smiled around a mouthful of pizza. "I knew you liked hockey."

Rodney grimaced. "I admitted no such thing."

"Then why did you watch it?" Andrew asked.

Unable to come up with a suitable excuse, Rodney said, "You're an obnoxious little brat. Do you know that?" Andrew stuck out his tongue, and Rodney sputtered in outrage. "You're not allowed to do that! I'm your uncle: you're supposed to respect me!"

Andrew blew a raspberry and stuck his tongue out even further.

Rodney immediately started whining. "Carson, make him stop! He's not supposed to do that!" he said, but Carson was laughing too hard to render any assistance.

By the third period, Carson could feel himself getting drowsy. Then he began leaning heavily on the arm of the couch, and Andrew moved to the other end so he could stretch out. Carson fell asleep to Rodney's rants about the referee's severe mental deficiency.

When he woke up, there was an afghan draped over him. He heard voices and looked down to find Rodney and Andrew, their backs against the couch, having a quiet conversation on the floor.

"So this Britney is your best friend?" Rodney asked.

Andrew shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"But she's a girl," Rodney said.

Andrew gazed down at his stocking feet. "She's really good at hockey," he muttered.

Rodney just managed to conceal a smile. "Ah, of course."

"And she's not really a girl 'cause Mom says she's a tomboy," Andrew said.

This time, the corner of Rodney's mouth twitched. "I hate to break it to you, kid, but that doesn't really change anything. She just has more sense than the other little girls her age. Still, I guess you could do worse."

Andrew studied Rodney for a moment. "Who's your best friend?" he asked. "Carson?"

"No," was Carson's sleepy response. "Colonel Sheppard is."


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


It was late and the mess hall was virtually empty. It would seem that, with the exception of his team, most of Atlantis had gone to bed. Of course, Rodney had been working into the wee hours and had resented the interruption, but Sheppard had said it was important, so Rodney had come.

As soon as Rodney approached their table, he knew something was wrong. Although Sheppard had adopted a casual pose, it seemed forced and not up to its usual standard. His tight smile belied his laidback sprawl. Rodney exchanged looks with Teyla and Ronon and saw that they were both ill at ease, as if sensing the tension emanating from Sheppard. Rodney sighed and pulled up a chair.

All four team members stared at each other until Sheppard cleared his throat and caught everyone's attention. "Uh, thanks for coming. This is something I thought you deserved to hear in person, so, uh…" He wiped his hands on his BDUs in a nervous gesture that was totally uncharacteristic of Sheppard.

Rodney immediately felt a surge of panic. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Sheppard said. "Nothing's wrong. I just have something to tell you."

"Is it the Wraith?" Teyla asked. She was trying to be stoic, but Rodney could see that she was concerned.

Sheppard was quick to alleviate her fears. "No, no, it's nothing like that."

Ronon sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Are the Ancients kicking us out of Atlantis again?"

Sheppard ran a hand across his face. "No, the Ancients aren't kicking us out of Atlantis again." He took a deep breath. "I'm leaving."

Rodney's eyes widened. "What?"

"You can't do that," Ronon said. "We need you here."

Teyla touched Sheppard's arm. "This is your home. Why should you wish to leave?"

Sheppard raised a hand defensively. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he said. "I obviously should have phrased that better. I'm being temporarily re-assigned to the SGC."

"Why?" Rodney asked.

Sheppard rubbed his wristband absently. "The Ori threat has been growing. The SGC believes that it's only a matter of time before there's an all out war, so they're doing everything they can to prepare for such a situation."

Teyla raised an eyebrow. "Prepare how?"

"By recruiting experienced military commanders, like Sheppard, to fight in their war," Rodney said. He glanced at Sheppard. "Isn't that right, Colonel?"

Sheppard squirmed in his chair. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say 'fight'. I'd be more involved with the training aspect of things. The SGC seems to think that, with my knowledge and experience, I'd be an asset."

"Well, of course you would," Rodney said. "What you've learned on Atlantis alone makes you invaluable. They'd be fools not to see that."

Sheppard inclined his head graciously. "Thank you, Rodney. If I ever need a good recommendation, I'll be sure to come to you."

Rodney tried to look smug, but it was a half-hearted effort at best.

Teyla leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. "You said you had been temporarily re-assigned. How long will you be gone?"

Sheppard was careful not to meet anyone's eyes. "A few months."

Rodney's mouth fell open. "A few months?"

"Six months at most," Sheppard said.

Rodney shook his head. "Six months. You're going to be gone for six months."

Sheppard shrugged. "It's not as if I haven't been gone for six months before."

"If you're talking about your little trip to Oz," Rodney said, "you were only gone for about a day."

Sheppard glared at him. "It was six months for me, Rodney!"

Instead of giving a snarky comeback, Rodney gazed down at his hands. "Oh, uh, right. Sorry."

Teyla and Ronon must have looked equally glum because Sheppard said, "I'm going to be back before you know it. Before you even have a chance to miss me."

"When are you leaving?" Teyla asked, ignoring Sheppard's attempt to comfort them.

"Two weeks," Sheppard said. Then he frowned as Rodney emitted a high-pitched squeak. "Are you okay, buddy?"

Rodney nodded vigorously, but seemed incapable of speech.

Teyla rose swiftly from the table. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion in the morning. It is late and Ronon and I will both be rising earlier than usual."

This was apparently news to Ronon. "We will?" he asked.

"Do you not remember? We agreed to hold a sparring practice with some of the Marines." Teyla jerked her head at Rodney in a way that even Rodney, who was usually oblivious to such gestures, recognized as a hint.

"Oh, right," Ronon said. "The sparring practice." He stood and gave a quick wave before following Teyla out of the mess hall.

Sheppard massaged the back of his neck. "Well, that went about as well as I expected."

Rodney barely mustered a smile. "You expected it to go well?"

Sheppard squeezed Rodney's shoulder. "It will only be a few months."

"Sure," Rodney said. "Only a few months." He spoke in a flat emotionless voice, and Sheppard became even more concerned.

"Rodney, are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "Because, seriously, you don't look it."

Rodney pulled himself together with visible effort. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be? As I said before, you'll be an extremely valuable asset. The SGC can use all the help they can get against the Ori, and this is a wonderful opportunity for you. It might even lead to another promotion."

Sheppard's hand returned to Rodney's shoulder, and Sheppard looked directly into Rodney's eyes. "If I'm going to earn another promotion, I'd rather earn it, here, on Atlantis."

Rodney swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Well, yes, I'm sure we'd all prefer that."

Sheppard's eyes remained locked with Rodney's. "No matter what happens, I'm coming back."

"Promise?" Rodney said.

This time when Sheppard smiled, it was absolutely genuine. "Yeah, Rodney, I promise."


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


Someone was shaking his shoulder. Carson opened his eyes slowly and saw an angel with golden tresses floating above him. He blinked his eyes and the angel materialized into Jeannie.

"Hi," she said.

"Oh, hi." Carson sat up and looked around the living room. Rodney was still sitting on the floor, but the couch was propping him up, and his head was leaning against one of the cushions. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.

"Relax," Jeannie said when she saw the flash of panic in Carson's eyes. "He put himself to bed. He's tucked in and everything."

Carson scrubbed a hand over his face. "I guess we don't make very good babysitters."

Jeannie bit her lip. "It could be worse. I fell asleep during one of Andrew's hockey games and missed him scoring a goal. He didn't speak to me for days." She broke into a grin, and Carson couldn't help laughing. "Come on," she said, glancing down at Rodney, "we'd better get Sleeping Beauty to bed."


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Comments

Part Three

[jackycomelately.livejournal.com]

Happiness! I was so relieved that John had a good reason for not being on Atlantis! You know I'm getting too into a story when I start getting tense about a character! Love the KD reference! Rodney would totally be a fan! Hee! Did your mother put wieners in it too? Mine did. Is that pretty much universal?

Looking forward to part four!

Re: Part Three

[rusty-armour.livejournal.com]

I'm glad I was able to relieve your anxiety about Sheppard! I didn't realize it was such a cause for concern! *g* I'm also happy to hear that you're enjoying the story and still want to read more. :-)

I think we usually had our KD as nature intended (*snort*), though we may have had wieners with it once or twice. I think the wieners thing was something I heard about from other people who were obviously more privileged than we were. *VBG*