By
Elayna
Notes
and other information at the bottom of the page
"Hey. You awake?"
Rodney looked
over at John, who was holding their baby girl in his arms, gradually becoming
aware that yes, he was awake again. And
that he'd given birth to his and John's twins, including their little girl, a
fact which still seemed too weird and wonderful to believe.
"How
are you feeling?" John asked.
Rodney
had to think for a moment before he finally said, "Loopy. Drugged." He reached out, stroking her cheek with one
fingertip. Her face was already
appearing less scrunchy, and her skin was the softest thing Rodney had ever
touched in his life. "Where's
Alexander?"
"Alexander?"
John asked, nodding his head toward the crib next to the bed. Rodney craned his head to look at the other
sleeping baby, as John shifted their girl into his arms, then picked up
Alexander, settling back into the chair.
"Bets were running strong that you would go with Luke and
Leia."
"Given
that they're going to have to deal with an undoubtedly genius level of IQ and
growing up in the lost city of Atlantis, my children hardly need the additional
burden of goofy names," Rodney sniffed.
"Alexander
what?"
"What? Oh, middle name. I thought Sheppard for both of their middle
names. I don't like hyphenated last
names."
"Alexander
Sheppard McKay. I like it. And her?"
"I
thought – I thought you might like to name her.
Given that you wanted a girl."
A little knot of worry clenched Rodney's stomach even as he made the
offer because good god, this was the man who'd successfully insisted on
renaming the gateships puddle jumpers, his streak of irreverence was as wide as
one of his beloved football fields, but Rodney had gotten reluctantly
accustomed to puddle jumper, and surely John understood the 'no goofy name'
message. But John looked amazed and then
dazzled, obviously incredibly pleased, and the knot loosened, because that
smile was worth the risk.
"Kathleen,"
John said quickly, as if he had to get the name out before Rodney changed his
mind. "With a K."
But
Rodney just nodded, relieved, smiling as he gazed at the tiny baby in his
arms. She was so small, so fragile and
perfect, but he knew she would grow into a strong woman, beautiful and
intelligent. Kathleen would suit her. "Kathleen's a nice name. Kathleen Sheppard McKay."
"And
no calling her Kat."
"Cat
names are for cats," Rodney agreed with a yawn. "Take her, would you? I'm so drugged, I don't think it would be
safe for her to sleep with me."
John
switched Alexander to his left, and scooped Kathleen up with his right. Hovering over Rodney, he pressed a brief,
urgent kiss on his lips, and whispered, "Thank you," before sitting
back down with both of them cradled in his arms. The three were strongly black and white, John
with his black hair and his black clothes, the babies with black hair wrapped
in white blankets, and yet somehow the image was warm and peaceful, and Rodney
drifted into sleep smiling.
~~~
John
wasn't particularly surprised to see Miko in the infirmary when he strolled
in. It seemed like everyone in Atlantis
had visited Rodney and the twins since their birth. He was a little surprised that she had a
digital camera, and was busily taking pictures.
Rodney was wearing a black shirt and trousers rather than a hospital
gown, and the medical equipment had been pushed away from the bed, so that the
background for the pictures would be only a neutral beige wall. The twins were propped in his arms, their
green eyes open but sleepy-looking, and Rodney was smiling broadly.
"John,
John. Good, you're here. Come get in the picture."
John
obeyed, sitting on the bed by Rodney, snuggling close, and smiling too. It was easy to smile on command with Rodney
and the twins because all three were so cute.
Miko snapped a few pictures and showed the viewscreen to Rodney, who
nodded his approval.
"Okay,
good. Close-ups of each of the kids
now."
Kathleen
was thrust into his arms, and John cuddled her, watching in bemusement as
Rodney wiggled out of bed, still wincing a little from having been cut open for
the Caesarean, before arranging Alexander on the white cover, cooing at him to
make him smile while Miko snapped a truly astonishing number of close-ups.
"Oh,
here." Rodney thrust a laptop at
John. "Do you think this is
okay? Should I say something more? I can't think of anything else I can
say."
Taking
the laptop, John began reading the text on the screen. Dear Jeannie, it started.
I
guess now is the time to tell you the big news I mentioned I would have. I know you assumed it was regarding a
scientific breakthrough or prize, but actually I wanted to announce that you
are now an aunt. I have two children,
twins, Kathleen Sheppard McKay and Alexander Sheppard McKay.
I am
raising them with my partner, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard of the US Air
Force. I know, the American military is absurdly homophobic, but John has been
granted a special dispensation, so we don't have to worry about him being
kicked out or sent to Leavenworth.
Kathleen
was born first by a few minutes. She has
John's smile, though I'm sure Alexander will have the McKay nose.
"That's
a family nose?" John asked.
"Yes,
of course. My father and his father both
had this nose."
"Scary." John went back to reading. I hope that we will be able to visit in a
few months, so that you can meet them and see how adorable they are in
person. For now I'm attaching a picture
of the four of us.
Love,
Rodney
P.S. John's hair is always like that.
"Hey,
the picture hadn't even been taken when you wrote this!"
"Yes,
but," Rodney flicked a look at John's hair, deftly switching Alexander for
Kathleen, "I knew it would be."
Miko started rapidly shooting close-ups of her new subject. "So what do you think? Is there anything else I can say?"
"She's
going to assume we had a surrogate mother and that they're only genetically one
of ours."
"I
can't help that. I can hardly tell her
the truth."
"She's
really going to wonder what you're doing, having kids in a research station in
– where does she think you are?"
"I've
implied Afghanistan. Or
Antarctica."
"Because
they're so similar," John said, which earned him an eye rolling from
Rodney and a little glare from Miko.
"I didn't realize you wrote your sister."
Rodney
shrugged. "I sent her a video
message, back when – back when Ford was filming everyone, and I looked her up
when we went home after the Wraith attack.
She's nice and reasonably intelligent and her children aren't completely
irritating. One of them shows signs of having brains and you'll like the other
one, he's mad about sports and atrocious movies." Taking the camera from Miko, Rodney clicked
through the shots in the camera.
"Good, can you send the letter in today's data stream with a
picture of the four of us? The third
one, that's the best. Download the rest
to my laptop."
Miko
bobbed obediently. It was astonishing
how much she adored Rodney and rather relieving how little Rodney noticed. "And you, Colonel Sheppard? Would you like me to send the picture to
anyone? I would be honored if you would
provide me with email addresses."
"Me? No, I'm good.
Thanks."
"You
must have some family," Rodney noted, with his best 'staring through a
microscope' look.
John
pressed a kiss on the top of Alexander's head, smiled at Kathleen, and met
Rodney's eyes. "I do. And you're all here with me."
~~~
Carson
Beckett wasn't a brave man. He knew that
and wasn't going to pretend differently.
He'd seen more astonishing sights than he ever expected to, and more
frightening ones than he wanted to since crossing into the Pegasus Galaxy. A nervous Rodney McKay, twisting his fingers
and shaking his hands out, like he was preparing to play a concerto instead of
picking up his own children, had to rank among the weirdest. "Would you like me to put them in the
pram for you?"
"No,
no. I've got it," Rodney said
tersely.
Carson
looked at the Colonel, expecting to see a level of amusement or impatience
there. Instead, the Colonel also was
staring at Rodney's hands, and lord almighty… the expression in his eyes wasn't
one that Carson liked to think of in connection to Rodney McKay of all people,
but it certainly did go a long way to explaining how well the two seemed to be
coping with being co-parents. Obviously
much more than one tryst between Ancient poles was going on between the two
men, at least for the Colonel.
"Some of us don't have all day, Rodney," Carson said.
"Yes,
yes." Rodney leaned forward,
scooping Alexander out of the infirmary's crib, cuddling him to his chest, and
gently placing him into the Ancient pram that he ridiculously insisted on
using. For a second, the sleek stained
glass-looking sides glowed a deep blue before the color faded away.
"Shit,"
was the Colonel's muttered response.
"Aye,
it's as I guessed," Carson noted.
"No,
no, it's not as you guessed," Rodney snapped, and Carson found himself the
target of two pairs of serious eyes.
"The ATA gene is random.
You've done very little testing on family members of people with the
gene and have no reason to believe that it runs genetically within
families."
If it
had just been Rodney, Carson would have argued.
Despite the man's many flaws, Carson did like Rodney, and admired his
intelligence and his ability to save Atlantis, but his constant denigration of
medicine as voodoo was extremely irritating.
But Carson looked again at the Colonel, and all previous hints of lust
were gone, replaced by a steady hardness.
And really, why cross a military commander on unproven theory? Particularly a military commander who was
known to have been responsible for sixty deaths in one day? "I suggest you keep your children away
from all Ancient technology that activates on touch," was all he
said.
"We
will," the Colonel answered, as Rodney transferred Kathleen to the pram,
which gave the same brief reaction.
"Will
what?" Laura asked, walking into the room.
She stopped close to Carson and wrapped her fingers in his, but didn't
make any more overt romantic gesture.
That was one of the many things he liked about her, that she respected
his reserve and wasn't unprofessional in public.
"Call
him if we need him," Rodney said before anyone else could respond, fussing
over the controls on the pram. "Now
this," he said, as the entire pram gave a hum and rose a foot off the
ground, "is the anti-grav." He
rubbed his hands, and this time Carson carefully avoided the Colonel's
eyes. He pushed another button, noting,
"And this is forward." The
pram floated gently toward the door guided by one of Rodney's hands. "Grab their things, would you?"
The
Colonel nodded, and swung the bag of formula and diapers over his
shoulder. "Thank you,
Carson."
"You're
welcome, Colonel. Though I have to warn
you, I still think it's dangerous to use that pram."
Rodney
hovered in the doorway. "If there's
anyone who should respect tradition, it should be you, Carson."
"There's
a difference between tradition and 10,000-year-old technology, Rodney!"
Carson called, but the scientist and the pram were already out of sight,
followed by the Colonel's disappearing back.
"If
10,000-year-old technology stops working, we'll all drown!" Rodney yelled
back, because the man did like to have the last word.
Carson
just sighed as Laura giggled, her head tilting to lean on him as she said,
"Sometimes I don’t understand those two, and sometimes they seem perfect
together."
"Is
the military contingent really all fine with this? With their relationship?" he asked,
curious. Everyone had seemed fine,
ecstatic really, with the thought of children being born in Atlantis, but
Carson's natural tendency to worry had made him wait for the other shoe to
drop.
"I
don't think anyone would have wished Rodney on the Colonel, but since he seems
happy…" Laura shrugged.
She rubbed her head a little on Carson's shoulder, and he tilted his head and
rubbed back. "The homosexual aspect
doesn't bother anyone?"
"No
one really quite knows what goes on between them. And it's not like they spend a lot of time
sucking face in the hallways. They've
both put their lives on the line for Atlantis, and that's what counts."
"Aye."
Carson stared at the closed door and wondered if the time would come
when Kathleen and Alexander had to put their lives on the line for Atlantis,
because if he were a betting man, he'd wager his savings that the Ancient gene
within them was the strongest that had existed in this city for 10,000 years.
~~~~
Little
Miracles: An Old Friend
The man
previously known as Lieutenant Aidan Ford cracked his neck to one side and
swung his arms by his side, calming himself.
Peyt had radioed that he had a captive, and Ford wanted to be in control
for this interrogation.
A man
was thrust into the cave, followed by Peyt and Barlin, and Ford recognized one
of the Athosian hunters that they'd saved that day, the first day he'd seen
Wraith darts and learned that life-sucking space vampires existed. That had been an extraordinarily bad day, and
it was seared unforgettably into Ford's memory.
"Hey, Herron, isn't it?"
He smiled and helped the man to his feet. "It's good to see you."
"Lieutenant
Ford," Herron said gravely, because the Athosians were all like that,
fucking grave like a funeral was happening every day, but Ford caught the
nervous glance at his eye. Everyone
looked at his pure black eye like he was some kind of freak, and it made him
angry.
Forcing
himself to smile again, he said, "It's Ford. Just Ford.
Hey, come on, sit down." He
guided Herron over to the wooden benches they used for chairs.
"What
do you wish of me?" Herron said,
following and sitting down by him, perched on the edge of the bench like he'd
run if he got a chance. Peyt and Barlin
remained standing in the entrance to the cave.
"I
just want to hear what's going on, Herron.
I miss Atlantis. I miss the
people. What's happening there?"
"On
the mainland, we work on our farms and hunt.
There is still much to do, to settle and ensure a good harvest for our
people."
"But
Teyla must visit and tell you things that are happening in Atlantis. Like, where's McKay been? We know he hasn't been going on
missions. Is he okay?" Herron's eyes shifted around, like he was
looking for an out. "Come on,
man. You're scaring me. McKay was a friend of mine. He's okay, isn't he?"
"Doctor
McKay is very healthy. There was an
accident with the Ancient technology, and he became pregnant. He did not go on missions while he was
carrying the twins."
Ford
laughed, looking at Heron, who looked very seriously back at him. Ford laughed some more, glancing at Peyt and
Berlin, who smiled like they got the joke.
"You mean, you're telling me that McKay was the first pregnant
man? All swollen with twins? He must have been hysterical."
"We
understand from Teyla that he became somewhat reclusive and stayed in the labs
most of the time, or with the Colonel."
"With
the Colonel? Yeah, Sheppard's good with
kids. I can see McKay going to him for
support." But a hesitant expression
flashed on Herron's face, and Ford pounced.
"But it wasn't just that, was it?
What was it? Why is Sheppard
involved with McKay's kids?"
"The
accident with the Ancient technology also involved Colonel Sheppard. They are both considered fathers of the
children and are raising them together."
Sheppard. McKay.
John. Rodney. A couple?
A fucking couple? Raising kids in
the Pegasus Galaxy like gay dads? Ford
had to stand, had to pace, feeling the energy, the agitation rise in his
blood. "An accident? What happened?"
"They have never released those details."
"And you guys just bought that? You
just believe that Sheppard wasn't fucking McKay at the time?" The question was really, how long had
Sheppard been fucking McKay? Had it
started while Ford was still on Atlantis?
Was that the reason for those stares they always gave each other? Fuck, had it started in Antarctica? Was that why Sheppard had come to the Pegasus
Galaxy, even though Sumner had obviously disliked him?
"It
is not our concern how the accident occurred.
Children have not been born in the city of the Ancestors for 10,000
years. We regard this birth as a
blessing, and a sign that the future is changing for our people. For all of the planets that have been cursed
by the Wraith."
And that
was the funniest thing Ford had heard in a long time, perhaps the funniest
thing since he'd left Earth. "What,
you think McKay's the Virgin Mary or something?
That those kids are like Jesus?
They're Messiahs?" He fell
to the bench, lying on his back, laughing so hard his belly hurt. That was even funnier than the thought of a
hypochondriac like McKay being pregnant, to think he was honored for something
that was all about his body and nothing to do with his brain.
Herron
said stiffly, "I do not understand these terms you use. But we welcome these children, as we have
welcomed the protection of those in the Ancestor's city. Your people have kept us from the Wraith."
"Not
my people, not anymore," Ford answered softly, his laughter dying. Hell, the Colonel probably revered McKay for
giving him kids. Sheppard loved
kids. Athosian kids, the ones on that
planet where they killed themselves… Sheppard always gave them chocolate or
played football with them. And now he
had his own kids. Saint McKay, crazy
Ford.
"We
understand from Teyla that they would welcome you back. That the Colonel in particular would like you
to return."
"Hey,
maybe I will. I should take the kids a
birthday present. Yeah, a birthday
present for the little McKays."
Ford waved his hand at Herron, addressing his men. "Lock him up." Peyt and Barlin hustled a protesting Herron
to his feet, and deeper into the cave.
Ford needed him gone, needed some quiet to think. What would be a good birthday gift for the Colonel's
kids?
Something
special, he had to find them something special, something that would prove to
the Colonel he could still be trusted.
~~~~
Rodney
watched the stroller trundle down the hallway, only the lightest touch of his
hand guiding it, John walking quietly by his side. A little voice within Rodney was nagging at
him, telling him that he shouldn't have let Carson be in the room when he put
the kids in the stroller. Rodney tried
to stomp on the voice because he'd always found that beating himself up was
counterproductive and a deterrent to making brilliant conclusions. Trusting himself always worked better than
self-doubt. But still…
"I
wish Carson hadn't seen that," John said.
Rodney
sighed. "Yeah, me too."
"You
didn't expect that to happen?"
"I
believe the stroller has protective capabilities like the personal shield. The material has similar qualities. The initializing was unexpected because there
can't be a required mental component."
"Wait
a second." John stopped walking,
turning to face Rodney, who'd taken another step before stopping too. The stroller ceased its motion, responsive to
Rodney's touch. "You put our kids
in a device that you don't know how to use?"
"Of course I know how to use it.
But I think it may have additional capabilities beyond forwards and
backwards."
"That
means you don't know how to use it!"
John was almost yelling and it occurred to Rodney that he was seriously
pissed.
"I
wouldn't endanger our children," Rodney said tightly. "And look who's talking, Mr. Take Over
and Take Charge. If you'd found it, you
would've just plunked them in it."
"If
I'd found it, I wouldn't have known it could do anything else."
"But
that wouldn't have stopped you. Just
like you move my furniture and talk to Elizabeth about our relationship and
arrange our lives without asking me."
Rodney glared, putting his hands on his hips, and the stroller
deactivated, sinking to the ground.
"I'll probably walk into our quarters and find you've moved things again." John gaped, and Rodney yelled, "Oh my
god, you have!"
"Not
a lot," John said defensively.
"What
did you do?" The tone of their
voices must have disturbed her, because Kathleen started crying, her little
hands waving with her displeasure.
"Well, pick her up. She
wants you," Rodney ordered impatiently.
John
scooped her into his arms, snuggling her to his chest. Kathleen quieted, blinking sleepily at
him. "I got a bed. A regular-sized bed because I'd like to be
able to fall asleep in your arms without worrying about rolling onto the floor
during the night."
"Oh." That mollified Rodney a little, because John
thinking about the two of them falling asleep together gave him a warm feeling
in his stomach, but he didn't relent.
"What else?"
"I
moved our clothes into the same dresser.
Yours are in the top drawers, because I figured you might have trouble
bending until the incision heals. I got
rid of the other bed and furniture and moved a desk into that bedroom. Zelenka set up a spare laptop so you can work
there in the evenings."
"You
didn't touch the nursery?"
"I
didn't touch the nursery."
"Well. That's okay then. But you need to start asking me."
"And
you need to start telling me what you're doing, particularly when it involves
untested equipment around our children."
Rodney
glared because he hated feeling in the wrong, and John was certainly far from
Mr. Perfect himself. John's return look
was steady, surprisingly scared, and it wasn't fair because Kathleen's eyes
were open, gazing at him innocently. Her
eyes were vibrantly green, even more intense in color than John's.
And then
John started shaking his head, chuckling quietly for some unknown reason,
pulling Rodney to him. He kissed Rodney
gently, sweetly, still chuckling as his tongue softly tasted Rodney's
mouth. Kathleen squirmed between them,
her small hands waving, smacking them on their faces.
"What's
so funny?" Rodney grumbled, as John's lips moved off his, and kissed their
way to Rodney's ear, John's teeth nibbling at his lobe as he answered, and it
was unfair how good John's touch always felt on Rodney's skin.
"Ask
and tell. I promise to ask if you
promise to tell."
Little
Miracles: First Night Home
"Oh
my god, that was exhausting," Rodney moaned, falling back on the bed. The larger bed, which actually made a much
better target and was easier to fall back on, not that Rodney was going to
mention that fact. Mr. High-Handed
didn't need to be rewarded.
Taking
off his watch and wristbands, laying them on the dresser, John said, "We
need to get a better routine established."
"They're
so squirmy. And exhausting. And they're just going to get bigger and get
worse," Rodney lamented.
"They're
our kids."
"I
know that. And I'm sure that they're
going to be brilliant, productive adults, but right now they're squirmy and
exhausting. And soon they'll be bigger
and crawling and babbling and even more exhausting," Rodney said, somewhat
crossly, because he really was tired and his abdomen still ached from where
Carson had cut him open, which meant his back ached too, and while the kids
were adorable, as of course they'd have to be, coming from him and John, they
were also small and fragile, making handling them intimidating and
nerve-wracking.
Barefooted
already, John sat on the bottom of the bed and began unlacing one of Rodney's
shoes. Rodney propped himself on his
elbows, stared down at John's bent head, and wiggled his foot away from John's
hands. "Don’t."
John sat
back and his lips tightened, like he wanted to argue, but he nodded and stood
up, finishing his own undressing, down to the t-shirt and boxers he normally
wore to bed, while Rodney rolled stiffly off the bed and took care of his own
clothes. They took turns in the bathroom
before crawling into bed, and John thought the lights down. Rodney lay on his back, finding it the most
comfortable position, and his breath skipped a little as he waited to see what
John would do. But John didn't show any
displeasure at not being allowed to take care of Rodney, curling up to him as
he had for the last few weeks, his head on the pillow next to Rodney's, so
close that Rodney could hear his breathing.
One of John's hands rested on Rodney's chest, the other curled up
between them.
Rodney
stroked John's side, soft cotton of his t-shirt and boxers covering warm skin
and hard muscles. John shifted a little,
his breathing a gentle sighing, and Rodney felt the faint brush of John's cock
on his hip. He reached down, felt the
heaviness of it, the way it leaped at his touch, and wiggled his hand into the
slit of John's boxers, taking it in his hand.
"Rodney,"
John said, his tone somewhere between need and rejection.
"Let
me. Let me, John. I want to."
"But
you're not – " John's hand on top of Rodney's dick finished the sentence
for him.
"I'm
aware of that. My stomach muscles ache
and my back aches and I'm exhausted from caring for children I never expected
to have, and I want to do this for you."
He gave John's dick a nice squeezing stroke from base to tip. "Let me."
There
was a noise that he thought might have been John's head nodding on the pillow,
and the brush of lips on his cheek, and then John's legs squirmed closer to
his, the top one lying on Rodney's, his foot curling around Rodney's
ankle.
Rodney
thought the lights up to a gentle level, wanting to see John's face, needing to
know he was doing this right. The sight
was more than he expected, John's head resting on the pillow, his hair mussed
and sticking up in every direction, his lips open and soft, his eyes filled
with a longing he couldn't disguise and wasn't trying to hide any more.
Rodney
didn't generally do favors for other people, figuring it was a waste of his
valuable time and not usually appreciated enough anyway. He'd saved the lives of everyone on Atlantis
several times and believed that was sufficient for karmic balance, if such a
thing even existed. So it was much more
satisfying and gratifying than he had ever expected to stroke John, to take
care of his lover's needs without receiving anything in return. John was so beautiful to watch, the way his
mouth dropped open and his panting increased, how his chest rose and fell with
his heavy breathing, the unconscious flexing of his fingers resting on Rodney's
chest. It was even better to feel him,
his hips thrusting against Rodney's body, his hairy legs rocking on and against
Rodney's legs.
Best of
all was his cock in Rodney's hand, firming up and getting bigger, moisture
leaking from the tip that Rodney spread up and down the shaft, making his hand
glide easily over John's taut skin. He
stroked delicately at first, trying to determine the speed and pressure John
preferred, but John seemed to like it all, and Rodney found himself squeezing
firmly and stroking fast, his hand moving rapidly as John's hips jerked
madly. John's groan was loud as his
orgasm shook his entire body, his come covering Rodney's hand, and then his
groan cut off as he pressed a desperate kiss on Rodney's lips before falling
back to the bed, his chest heaving.
Using a
corner of the sheet, Rodney wiped his hand off and then tucked John's cock back
into his boxers. The heat generated by
John's orgasm had warmed the sheets, and Rodney felt comfortable and relaxed as
he waited for John's response.
"You've
never done that for anyone else, have you?" John finally asked when he
could talk.
"You
know I haven't." Rodney might have
been tempted to hit John, if the tone of his question hadn't sounded so
sleepily pleased rather than smug.
Still… "You are seriously primeval, you know that?"
"Mmmm,"
was the only answer as John's eyelashes drifted shut and his breathing leveled
off, his face relaxed and peaceful.
Dimming the lights, Rodney followed him into sleep.
~~~
Little
Miracles: TCB
Lieutenant Stacy
Telford stood outside the door and took a moment to collect herself, smoothing her
uniform to make sure every crease was perfect, wanting to present a
professional appearance. She'd never
quite decided which was worse, scientists or soldiers. Scientists were generally more creative,
using their formidable intellects to think of clever ways to do things that no,
they couldn't do, no matter how much they thought they should be allowed to, no
siree bob. On the other hand, soldiers
tended to think they could order, intimidate, or cajole her into changing the
facts for the benefit of her brethren, which had a unique tediousness of its
own.
And now she had to
deal with one of each at the same time.
And not just any scientist or soldier, but McKay and Sheppard. Admittedly, the Colonel was pretty cool, very
easy to deal with, and seemingly so laidback she wondered how he could command,
but scuttlebutt said he was ferocious and steadfast in battle, and she trusted
scuttlebutt. Despite his air of
surfer-calm, she'd found him a little scary since their first meeting when he'd
found an error – a typo for Pete's sake, when she never made typos,
particularly with 6 weeks on the Daedelus with not much to do but triple check
everything – and then his eyes flicked over the rest of the return and he'd
blithely announced the new final result, obviously calculating everything in
his head. *In his head.*
And McKay…she
shuddered. She tried to forget her
skirmishes with McKay.
She pinged the door
and it slid open promptly, McKay standing in the doorway, Alexander held to his
chest with one arm. At least, she
presumed it was Alexander. Babies mostly
looked alike to her at this age, but this one did seem to have McKay's nose and
she'd heard the girl had escaped that dire genetic fate.
"Oh, it's
you!" McKay exclaimed, as if she'd showed up without an appointment. Or as if he'd discovered a particularly
virulent germ strand, or whatever nasty things astrophysicists found. A new form of Wraith perhaps.
"Rodney, play
nice," said a lazy voice.
McKay stepped back,
letting Stacy step in, and she saw Sheppard sitting on the couch, feet propped
on the low table in front of him. Living
with McKay seemed to agree with him, as he didn't look stressed or prematurely
gray, but his perpetual state of relaxation, lean body dressed in the black
Atlantis expedition uniform with his hair messy and a smile on his face. Kathleen was sitting on his lap, her
attention focused on a toy in her hands.
The twins definitely resembled each other, big green eyes and rosy,
chubby faces and bodies, but Kathleen's hair was a shade darker and longer,
wispy strands brushing past her neck.
"Come in,
Lieutenant. Have a chair."
Stacy sat as
directed in the chair opposite the couch while McKay parked himself by
Sheppard, sitting nervously on the edge of the couch, his posture very
dramatically different from Sheppard's casualness. Stacy fervently hoped that the presence of
Sheppard and his children would restrain McKay from yelling. Not that she couldn't handle people who
yelled, she couldn't have survived basic training otherwise, but McKay was so
very articulate, emotional, and long-winded in his yelling. To make matters worse, soldiers who worked
for the SGC were drilled to protect and respect the scientists, so she didn't
even feel she was allowed to be intimidating in return.
"Colonel,
Kathleen." As if understanding her
name, Kathleen looked up from her stuffed toy and gave a gurgling laugh,
showing off a smile that shared Sheppard's lopsidedness. Stacy had to smile back.
"You haven't
met the kids yet, have you? Kathleen,
Alexander, say hello to the nice Lieutenant.
She's here to help your daddies with their taxes."
"Kathleen,
Alexander. It's good to meet you,"
Stacy said brightly, wondering if there was anything else she should say
directly to them and deciding not to risk sounding absurd with baby talk. "They're beautiful children," she
added.
"You are,
aren't you?" McKay said to Alexander, lifting him in the air, bringing him
to rub noses. "Beautiful
Alexander. Beautiful children. Most beautiful babies in Atlantis," he
cooed. Cooed, for Pete's sake, Stacy
thought, staring in fascination at McKay's obvious happiness, and stopped
herself from noting aloud that they were the only babies in Atlantis.
"You want
anything to drink, eat? We keep a lot
more food on hand in our quarters now.
Kinda have to." Sheppard
jogged one knee and Kathleen giggled again, apparently at ease with her world
moving.
"No, thank
you. I've just had lunch with Dr.
Zelenka and gone through his returns with him.
It's amazing how different other countries handle their taxes. It's quite a challenge to run all the forms
through translation programs and make sure I have all the necessary documents
before coming out here."
The Colonel gave a
nod and asked, "So what have you got for us?"
Stacy noted neither
one of them looked particularly interested in the complexities of ensuring that
a small group of people from many different countries were able to file their
taxes from another galaxy, so she dropped that subject and moved on. "I know we made this appointment for the
same time, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to discuss your finances
together…"
"Yeah,
sure. Our situations are rather tied
together these days."
"Good, that
makes it easier. The issue of the twins
and who should claim them is really the major factor in your decision making
process."
"Oh, God, you're going to split
them up, aren't you?" McKay blurted out, finally stopping his baby talking
and nose rubbing. "One for each of
us?" He sounded oddly horrified at
the idea, and placed Alexander on his lap, arms around him protectively as if
Stacy was Solomon proposing to cleave them in two.
The Colonel's hand
rested on McKay's knee and squeezed.
"It would only be on paper."
"Actually, I'm
not proposing that the twins be split up."
"I suppose John
should claim both. Air Force
dependents."
Stacy smiled
cheerfully, determinedly, wondering how McKay accomplished anything as a
scientist, the way he leapt to conclusions without facts. Or was that what scientists were supposed to
do? It had been a long time since her
last science class. Maybe she should
google the scientific method one day, because no way was she going to sound
that clueless by asking anyone around the SGC.
"I'm proposing that you claim both, Dr. McKay."
"Oh. Me?"
"First of all, thank you for
forwarding the copies of the children's birth certificates," Stacy dug in
her bag, pulling out three manila folders, neatly labeled 'Sheppard,' 'McKay,'
and 'Sheppard-McKay.' She put the first
by the Colonel's feet, the second by McKay, and the third carefully in the
middle. "I obtained both their SSNs
and SINs, and opened files for them at the SGC, for whatever paperwork you need
us to handle for them."
"SIN? What's an SIN?" Sheppard asked
lazily.
"Social
Insurance Number. It's the Canadian
equivalent of our Social Security number."
"Seriously?" The Colonel gave a mocking look at McKay and
Stacy noticed his hand was still resting on the other man's knee. "You guys have a number for sin? You never told me." His voice deepened and he blatantly batted
his eyelashes, and if Stacy didn't know better, she'd think the Colonel was
truly flirting with the Doctor and not merely joking around to ease his obvious
tension.
McKay rolled his
eyes. "Yes, ha ha. I swear you Americans are born both puerile
as well as prudish."
"Anyway,"
Stacy said briskly, trying to keep them on track, "since the Colonel
really doesn't pay taxes – "
"Wait, wait, wait,
what do you mean, he doesn't pay taxes?
How does he not pay taxes?"
Stacy managed not to wince, having
learned early in her career as an Air Force accounting officer that a cheerful
blankness was frequently the best response.
"The active duty pay of the members of the Stargate Project has
been exempt from taxation for several years now. It's a fairly standard designation for combat
pay in a time of war."
"No, no, no,
that takes an act of Congress."
McKay waved his hands somewhat wildly – seriously, did the man not
realize his tone was quite expressive enough? – but it was surprisingly
adorable the way Alexander seemed amused and accustomed to his dad's
gesticulations, giggling and waving his hands at McKay's, as if he wanted to
play patty cake. At least both kids
seemed to have inherited Sheppard's better nature, lucky them. "They spell things out in the law. Operation Manifest Patriotism and specify the
combat zones and all that nonsense."
"Obviously, the
Stargate Project had to be handled more discreetly as it's classified top
secret and the combat area is rather expansive. The language was buried in an
appropriations bill and it's very complex to read. Most people wouldn't be able to decipher it, and
even if they did, they'd need top-secret clearance for some of the
references. However, I assure you it's
quite legal." She thought about rattling off the language to demonstrate
its convoluted cross-referencing scheme, but was afraid McKay would see
legalese as a challenge, so instead sought to deflect his attention. "I believe a similar tax status was
contemplated for the scientists by the International Committee, but the
countries couldn't come to a mutually acceptable accord on how to handle the
issue and it fell through. Perhaps Dr. Weir
has more details?" Yes, let her
handle him.
"I'll talk to
Elizabeth," McKay promised grimly.
"The whole tax
thing is one of the reasons I was thinking of setting up college funds for the
kids. I've got several years of back pay
setting in my bank account earning regular interest. There's no reason not to put it to better
use."
"You've thought
that far ahead? About…their
future?"
Stacy wondered what
McKay had really been planning to say and was amazed at the expression on his
face, as if he was deeply touched by the Colonel's suggestion. She'd never thought he could look
so…woobie-like. And they'd gotten
through that tricky revelation without one yell. Having the Colonel around was a definite
boon.
"Sure." Sheppard curled his head forward, pressing a
little kiss to the side of Kathleen's head, and what quirk of fate had gifted
someone like McKay with enjoying that image on a daily basis? Unaware of Stacy's rambling thoughts, the
Colonel spoke to his daughter, "Sweetheart and her brother are probably
going to win lots of scholarships, aren't you?
Then you won't need money for your college, so you can just use it to
come visit your old dads."
"Visit
us?" McKay asked, and Stacy thought she saw an intense expression of
yearning on his face before his eyes flicked to hers and that look smoothed
out.
"I'll be ready
to retire from the military by the time they head off to get their many
degrees. Hey, maybe we can get a place
by your sister and her kids. Canada's a
nice country and there's a big lab close to her, right? You can keep researching and then the kids
could see their aunt and cousins too on school breaks."
"You're
organizing things again," McKay protested, like Sheppard's taking over was
a common occurrence, but the weakness of his tone said maybe he didn't mind, at
least this time. "You don't even
know if you'll like my sister."
The Colonel
shrugged. "Just ideas. Any money I can save for them now will give
them better options. Hey, did you get
the information I asked for?"
"Oh,
yes." Stacy felt flustered,
searching her briefcase for the last folder for them. She should have anticipated the Colonel's
request and had it available. Finding
the file labeled 'college funds,' she placed it on the table next to the
Colonel's feet. "The state plans
are problematic since most of them require the child to attend a school in that
state – or at least, they try to require it, since there is some argument about
whether that's legal under federal laws – and I know you want the children to
have full options to pick anywhere in America or Canada – " Realizing that
she was babbling, Stacy stopped and made herself take a breath. "I've marked the plans that seem best
and included information on other types of long-term savings accounts. They're not all intentionally designed for
educational purposes but they may work well for your situation. Just let me know what you decide and I'll set
it up."
"Great, thank
you. We'll give you a decision before
the Daedelus leaves."
"Anyway, with
the decision to let Dr. McKay claim the children, your return, Colonel, is
fairly simple, basically the same as last year's. If you would review and sign, I'll get it
filed and leave a copy in your financial folder at the SGC. And then Dr. McKay, your return also is
basically similar to last year's, though I've added the two children as
dependents, so that's an additional $14,688 deduction, and the Canadian tax rate dropped from 16 to 15%, so those
factors make a huge difference to your bottom line."
Almost in unison,
McKay and Sheppard both shifted their respective child to one side and flipped
through their paperwork. The action
seemed routine, holding the babies comfortably but keeping them out of the
way. Both men must have a lot of
practice, Sheppard with personnel evaluations and military administrivia, McKay
with papers or whatever scientists did.
Stacy watched Sheppard's eyes, the way they flicked between the return
and every piece of documentation, knowing he was crosschecking everything. His eyes glanced over to McKay and he gave a
lazy, "Jeeze, I thought ours were bad."
Surprisingly, McKay
grunted, and didn't offer a harangue on the absurdity or unfairness of the tax
system. Sheppard reached out and Stacy
handed him a pen. He signed the return,
sliding the folder back to her, and they sat in silence for a few minutes,
Sheppard playing with Kathleen, waving the stuffed toy at her as he bounced her
on his legs. Finally, Sheppard asked,
"Is that normal for Canadian returns?"
The prohibition
against gossiping about an individual's tax situation was strong, but the
interaction between the two was interesting to watch, and Stacy was curious to
see how much McKay would let her tell Sheppard.
"Doctor McKay is a deemed non-resident of Canada under Section 217
– "
"Isn't that the
section the doctor worked for on Deep Space Nine?"
"That was Section 31, and he
didn't work for it, he worked against it," McKay grumped before Stacy could
answer. "Stop trying to act
clueless when you're not."
"As a Section
217, Doctor McKay has to fill out the 5013-R, the Income Tax and Benefit Return for Non-Residents and
Deemed Residents of Canada, his Schedule A, Statement of World Income, his Schedule
B, Allowable Amount of Non-Refundable Tax
Credits, and the Schedule 1 and federal worksheet for Federal Tax. His income comes
from a variety of sources, his paycheck from the International Committee, of
course, various residuals for papers and patents, and his investments. Really quite normal for the scientists who
work for the SGC, but it does make for a more complicated return." And more fun, Stacy almost added, but they'd
already looked disinterested in the joys of doing returns for people from 32
different countries. Personally, she
believed enjoying your work was a desirable quality, even if non-tax people
found it bizarre.
"You mean you
have to fill them out," Sheppard noted, and smiled. "Makes my form look pathetic."
"Well,
yes." Stacy flushed a little at
Sheppard's expression, as if he was complimenting and appreciating her at the
same time with one smile, understanding how he motivated people while seeming
so casual. "I mean, no, not that
your return is pathetic, but I only get to do three Canadian returns, all
217s. They're a challenge, but I enjoy
it."
"Does Daniel
Jackson pay taxes?" McKay asked out of nowhere.
"I can't answer
questions about the personal tax situations of other individuals."
McKay rolled his
eyes at her, but really, eye rolls were nothing compared to the verbal
explosions of prior encounters and almost endearing in a mocking way. "Fine, I'll rephrase. Are scientists who work for the SGC tax
exempt?"
"Any income
received by a member of a Stargate team as active duty combat pay would be
exempt from taxation."
"Yes, I love
the passive tense and jargon words, that means Daniel Jackson doesn't pay taxes
and that's excruciating wrong, considering he's on Earth and gets to go home to
his little apartment after he saves the world."
Stacy watched as the Colonel's long
fingers came to squeeze McKay's knee again and his muttering subsided. "Hey, you have patents?"
"Of course I
do."
"Cool. You'll have to tell me all about them some
time. I didn't know you'd invented
things."
"I – yes
certainly. If you want."
Sheppard gave his lopsided smile, and
McKay smiled back, and Stacy thought she'd never seen such a pleased expression
on his face. This whole encounter with the
two of them was surprising. The
scuttlebutt didn't say much about McKay and Sheppard, which was astounding,
because the atmosphere between them was filled with innuendo and unspoken
connections. This relationship wasn't
totally dependent on an 'accident' with Ancient tech and parental
responsibility, or Stacy would eat both volumes of the Internal Revenue
Code. Was the scuttlebutt silent because
the Atlantis soldiers were totally dense…or completely loyal? "If you're finished reviewing, Dr.
McKay?"
"Hmm?" McKay's glance at Stacy was distracted, as if
he'd forgotten her presence. "Oh
yes, reviewing. Yes, it looks fine." He took the pen and signed his name with a
flourish.
"See? I told you that wasn't any reason to
fret."
"Yes, Mr. Tax
Exempt. Of course you think the American
government's decision to help everyone with their paperwork and filing their
taxes is all well and good. I, on the
other hand, was clobbered with penalties and interest on her first
visit."
And yikes, there it
was, McKay working himself into a tizzy fit.
The man's moods were mercurial.
"It's regrettable that the long-term consequences on the personal
lives of the members of the Atlantis expedition weren't better handled,"
Stacy said sympathetically, hoping to head off an explosion.
McKay glared, but
not too severely. "We didn't even
know if we'd be able to return. We
certainly didn't know it would take us a year to restore contact with
Earth."
Of course, if he'd
just overwithheld to guarantee a refund in the first place, he could have
avoided the penalties and interest on late payment, even if he'd still been
dinged on late filing, but that observation had earned Stacy a good five
minutes of yelling when she'd first made it, and she wouldn't repeat that mistake.
"Look,"
Sheppard said softly. "They're
crashing again." And indeed, both
children had quietly, completely fallen asleep, eyes shut and soft mouths open,
bodies slumped on their dads, Kathleen's toy dropping to the floor. "They go out like a light. They're so like Rodney."
"Like Dr.
McKay?" Stacy asked, hearing the doubt in her voice. Alexander's nose was the only connection
she'd seen between the twins and McKay.
Otherwise they seemed much more like the Colonel.
Sheppard just nodded
his head and McKay – wow, now McKay really, really looked woobie-like, like he
loved that the Colonel thought the kids resembled him – tucked Alexander to his
chest and stood. "We should put
them down for their nap."
Stacy recognized a
dismissal when she heard one, and was happy to accept it, slipping the finished
folders back into her briefcase.
"Thank you."
"No, thank you,
Lieutenant," Sheppard offered.
"We really do appreciate this.
We'll get back to you about the college fund."
Within seconds, Stacy
found herself hustled out the door, McKay giving a last grudging, "Thank
you," as he shut the door behind her.
She stood in the hallway and shook her head, bemused at how her
expectations had differed from reality, before pulling out her PDA. Next up, Ronon Dex. Dex?
Oh yes, the alien fellow who the Colonel was trying to get awarded
American citizenship. Stacy had no idea
what expectations or knowledge he had of this process. His SGC file had lacked any discussion of
Satedan economics and tax structure.
For a brief moment,
Stacy contemplated knocking on the door and asking the Colonel to accompany
her. He'd been so very excellent at
calming and distracting McKay, and he was bound to be helpful with this other
fellow. But…no. Because if Sheppard and McKay weren't
engaging in a "nap" of their own while the kids were drowsing, Stacy
would devour all six volumes of the federal income tax regulations. And she certainly didn't want to knock on the
door now and get any signs confirming that supposition because what she didn't
know, she couldn't tell.
Shoving her PDA back
in her pocket, Stacey headed off to find Mr. Dex.
~~~
The door slid shut
behind the Lieutenant and Rodney bounced as he turned to face John, sure that his
agitation was evident in his face, voice and body. "Are you attempting to get yourself
thrown out of the Air Force?"
John frowned, a
little confused by the sudden accusation, and well aware that the appropriate
response to Rodney was never to be agitated back. "What do you mean?"
"With the
touching! The reassuring pats! And the 'gee, let's retire to Canada and be
the gay eccentric uncles for your nephews'!" Alexander shifted sleepily in his arms, and
Rodney tried to force himself to calm down, not wanting his son to pick up his
stress and wake up.
John shrugged,
through he could feel his jaw tightening.
"I'm not going to keep pretending, Rodney. We have kids.
Our lives are tied together."
Rodney stared
helplessly at John, not sure how to respond.
John's growing stubbornness about playing 'co-dad' and not lover when
the Daedelus crew were roaming Atlantis would almost be endearing if it wasn't
so suicidal for his career.
Swinging his legs
off the table, John stood, the sleeping Kathleen held in one arm, and stalked
toward Rodney. He watched the expression
in Rodney's eyes, noted as they flicked downwards, relieved that the frustrated
'you are being such a lunatic' glare was being eclipsed by the 'but your hips
are the second wonder of the Pegasus Galaxy' drool. He got so close to Rodney, he had to stop
walking or he would have smacked Kathleen into Alexander as the kids slept in
their arms. "The twins are both
almost asleep. They're ready for their
afternoon nap. I think we should take
one of our own."
Rodney gave a little
growl, not sure if it was from irritation or passion. "You're avoiding the issue again. You're trying to distract me with sex."
Leaning forward
slightly, John brushed his lips over Rodney's cheek, leaving soft kisses in
their wake. "Would you rather be
Daniel Jackson?"
"Hmmm?"
Rodney mumbled, nonplussed by the non sequitur and unable to make much sense of
John's words when his lips were so distracting.
"Would you
rather be Daniel Jackson, tax exempt and on Earth and able to go back to your
comfortable apartment after saving the world for the umpteenth time?"
Rodney frowned,
still distracted by John's lips but sensing an underlying concern in John's
questioning. "Why would I want to
be Daniel Jackson? He doesn't have them
and he doesn't have you. What the hell
is money compared to you three?"
Rodney's tone was
crotchety but his words were perfect, and John grinned. He brushed his fingers over Rodney's visible
nipple, the one that wasn't hidden by Alexander's body. "Let's put them down and then I'll show
you how very much I'm worth."
John's hand felt so
good, rubbing his nipple, bringing it to a hard, needy point, and Rodney
swallowed. He had to return the
sensation, stroking the vulnerable nape of John's neck, appreciating the way
the other man gave a little shiver and licked his lips. He contemplated noting that he was a genius,
he was well aware of what really mattered in life, and they were all here
within his reach, thank you very much, but indeed he was a genius and therefore
not stupid enough to discourage John from proving his worth. "It's been a
stressful day. Paying taxes is always
exhausting."
John slid an arm
around Rodney's waist, giving him a kiss on the lips. "So it is. Let's go celebrate having it all done with
for a year."
***
Notes on
this particular ficlet: I must thank karyn5101969 who made
comments in emrinalexander's livejournal that helped direct my research for
this ficlet. This is the third fic I've
ever written from the POV of an OFC, though the first posted. Something about this universe makes me want
to see the boys from other eyes. This is
posted out of chronological order because it's Tax Day in America, and this
ficlet honors that momentous occasion. I
confess some places may have more ambiance than absolute accuracy. This ficlet is not beta'ed because I was
writing up to the wire, though thanks go to eternalmusings for a good
catch.
Title: Little Miracles
By:
Elayna (Elayna88@comcast.net)
Pairing:
Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: G to NC-17, schmoop to smut, depending on the
ficlet
Archive:
full archiving, my page
Category: Romance, PWP, possibly others.
Feedback: Always adored.
Summary: A series of ficlets following the fic
"Miracles."
Warning: None so far (other than kids and schmoop
:-). Warnings will be on the individual
ficlet if necessary.
Thanks: Big hugs and appreciation to kimberlite for
the betaing and encouragement and listening to me whine. I frequently fuss until posting, so all
mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis belongs to MGM and several
production companies. These ficlets are
written for love and pleasure, not money.
Return
to the Stargate: Atlantis stories