Drawing A Line
By: Elayna
~ notes and other information at the bottom ~
John
knocked on the door politely, automatically smiling when a woman opened it,
though he wasn't in a smiling mood.
Hopefully he didn't look too insincere.
"Mrs. Fisher? I'm John
Sheppard."
"Dad!" Timmy's appeared behind her. "What are you doing here? Is Dad okay?"
"Everything's
fine," John reassured him quickly, wincing when he realized Timmy might
perceive his mid-afternoon arrival as indication of a problem. Which it was, but not a problem that needed
to worry Timmy. "I left work early
and thought you might want to come on home."
"Sure,
I have to get my stuff." Timmy
disappeared.
Mrs.
Fisher frowned. "Rodney didn't
mention that you would be picking Timmy up."
John
should have foreseen the hesitation, which was perfectly natural and
appreciated. He should have gone on
home, except he hadn't wanted to be alone.
"Let me call him. I was
going to let him know I'll be home early anyway." He pulled out his phone, hitting Rodney's
work number, as Mrs. Fisher's face relaxed.
"Hey, Rodney? I'm at the
Fisher's, picking up Timmy. We'll be
home early."
"Is
anything wrong?"
"Mrs.
Fisher wants to say hi." He handed
the phone to her, listening as she made small talk with Rodney, Timmy darting
out around her and heading for John's car, yelling good-bye to his friend.
"Thank
you," she said, handing the phone back.
"No,
thank you," he emphasized, giving another smile before heading to the car,
settling in the driver's seat.
"Why
are you off work early? Did something
happen?"
Starting
the car, John sighed, accustomed to McKay inquisitiveness. "I need to talk to Rodney first,
okay?"
"Okay,"
Timmy agreed solemnly.
"What's
wrong?" were the first words out of Rodney's mouth when he walked in the
door to find John and Timmy both sprawled on the floor, playing Knights of the
Old Republic on the X-box. He must have
left work right after John called.
"I
quit my job."
Rodney's
jaw dropped open in astonishment before he snapped it shut. "You love your job."
"Yeah."
"Then
what did some idiot do?"
"Caldwell
tried to make me work overtime." John handed his controller to Timmy, and
rolled to his feet.
"Obviously
there's more to it than that. You work
overtime all the time."
"He
valued my commitment to you and Timmy less than the married guys to their
families."
"But
we are married," Rodney noted accurately.
"But
not here. Only in Canada. So it doesn't really count in his
eyes." John stepped close to
Rodney, relieved when his arms wrapped around John's waist. "I got mad and quit."
"I
don't blame you." Rodney gave him a
kiss, warm and short, an 'in front of the child' kiss. "You deserve better than to work with
idiots." He'd say more tonight, a
lot more, with descriptive language that would be highly unflattering to
Caldwell.
"You
don't mind supporting me for a bit, do you?" The idea of changing careers again wasn't
appealing. Maybe he should approach the
county sheriff's office about a job.
"Take
some time off. A few months if you'd
like. We can afford it."
He
was so lucky, to have married someone who had been described as petty and bad
with people, but was always magnanimous and loving with John.
The
doorbell rang before John could respond, and Rodney went to open it. Pierson, the department's human resources
officer, stood in the doorway, with Caldwell behind him. "Yes?" Rodney asked, not having met
either of them. John moved forward to
stand beside him.
"You
must be Doctor McKay. It's a pleasure to
meet you. I'm George Pierson." George offered his hand.
"Pierson,
Caldwell," John said, not sure why they were here. The words they'd exchanged at work had been
quite plain.
"Caldwell? You're John's boss?"
"I'd
appreciate – " Pierson started to say, interrupted when Rodney shoved past
him, his finger jabbing into Caldwell's chest.
"You
are a horrible, homophobic asshole," Rodney yelled. "And we are going to sue your ass for discrimination
based on sexual orientation."
"Please,
Doctor," Pierson said, soothingly.
"Can we come in and discuss this?"
"You
can talk to our lawyer!"
"It
really doesn't need to get to that level."
Pierson threw a pleading look at John.
"Sheppard, please?"
"Rodney." John curved a hand over Rodney's
shoulder. "Let them come
in."
"Into
the house of homosexuals? Are you sure
you want to?"
"We
would appreciate it very much."
John
had to admire Pierson's determination, even if he was a bit too smooth. "Yeah, come on," John offered to
Pierson and Caldwell. Rodney stalked
back into the living room, followed by the others. Timmy had shut down the game, and was sitting
quietly in the corner, perhaps hoping he'd go unnoticed. "Go on up to your room, Timmy,"
John said, and everyone took seats, waiting as Timmy left, thudding up the
stairs.
Pierson
grabbed hold of the conversation immediately.
"Steven reported that you'd quit, and gave me a general
understanding of the discussion that led to that decision. I was hoping that I could get you to change
your mind."
"Why? So he could go back to being treated like a
second-class citizen?" Rodney asked, practically vibrating in his fury.
"The
department has a policy against discrimination based on sexual
orientation. John should never feel that
he is being treated as a second class citizen.
I'm sure that everyone understands that some people may have bad days
and are perhaps less than careful in their language," Pierson said
quickly. "Working for the police is
a very stressful business. Frankly, John
doesn't need to quit because Steven had a bad day. This is very much a molehill becoming a
mountain."
"Is
that your excuse for homophobia?
Stress?" Rodney sneered.
"John,
please," Pierson directed to him, perhaps realizing that Rodney wasn't
going to be easily pacified. Or assuming that John could silence him, which
maybe he could, if he'd had the inclination.
"No,"
John said abruptly, standing, because while Rodney and Pierson were talking,
Caldwell was just sitting on the couch, leaning back, one leg resting over the
other, casually relaxed. "You can
leave now."
Caldwell
spoke for the first time. "Christ,
Sheppard. You were in the Air
Force. You lived by Don't Ask, Don't
Tell for years. You want to make a big
stink over overtime?"
"Yeah,
I did. I lied because I wanted to fly
planes. But that was only denying
myself." John pointed to the
mantle, to the framed picture of him, Rodney, and Timmy, in Canada, all dressed
in their suits on the day that McKay-Sheppard had become an official
family. "I won't deny
them."
Caldwell
glanced at the picture. "I didn't
know you felt that strongly about it, Sheppard."
"Because
what, family doesn't matter to fags?" Rodney sneered.
Caldwell
frowned at Rodney's hostility.
"I've never thought about Sheppard like that. He's an excellent officer."
"Then
don't treat me like you do," John said pointedly.
"Jesus,"
Caldwell swore, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "I never meant to, and I'm sorry if I
came across like I did. If anything, I
was just trying to take advantage of the fact that you give me less grief than
some of the other guys. You're usually
pretty receptive."
John
relaxed a little bit, nodding in understanding, because he could tell Caldwell
was being honest. The man was kinda clueless and thoughtless, a product of his culture,
but not someone who wanted to be perceived as being intentionally
homophobic.
"How
do I make this up to you?" Caldwell asked bluntly, leaning forward.
"A
written apology with a promise that you will regard them and my commitment to
them the same as anyone else's family."
"I
don't know if a written apology – "
"Can
it, Pierson." Caldwell stood. "It'll be on your desk in the
morning."
"I'll
be there to read it," John promised.
"John,
are you sure that's what you want? We
can sue. Ferris's attorney – "
"No,
that's all I want." John squeezed
Rodney's hand.
"I'm
not sure if putting this in writing is the best way to resolve it,"
Pierson brought up again. He was
probably thinking of the department's increased liability if Caldwell didn't
hold to his promise.
"I
do, and I created the problem," Caldwell said.
"And
you'll mean your apology," Rodney added, still glaring at him.
"And
I'll mean it. I don't need to learn my lesson twice. Sheppard." Caldwell offered his hand, and John gave it a
shake. Next, Caldwell offered his hand
to Rodney, who looked suspiciously at it, but accepted it. "Doctor, you may not believe it, but I
do appreciate your honesty." Then
he walked out, leaving Pierson, who gave concerned looks at both John and
Rodney, but quickly followed him.
Dropping
down on the couch, John pulled Rodney into his arms. Momentarily unbalanced, Rodney gave a squawk,
then shifted into a comfortable position, his muscles relaxing as he rested in
John's hold. "Do you really think
he won't be an asshole to you any chance he gets?" Rodney asked
suspiciously.
"Yeah,
I do," John said, nuzzling at the back of Rodney's neck. "He learned he can't walk over me. Us."
"Was
this all some macho posturing? To see
who has the bigger balls?"
"I
didn't mean it like that." He'd
fully intended to quit when he'd walked out of the station, but he was grateful
that Pierson's unwillingness to risk a lawsuit meant he could keep his
job. "But I won." He couldn't stop his voice from sounding
smug. Speaking up and winning had
definitely been satisfying.
Rodney
made a disgruntled, considering noise, hugging John's arms to him. "I still think he's
homophobic."
"Maybe
some. It's not a perfect world,"
John admitted, "but this is a huge step up from Don't Ask, Don't
Tell." He'd never realized how much
he'd hated having to be silent until he had Rodney. If he'd been caught messing around with a guy
in the Air Force, no one in the military would have supported him. They
certainly wouldn't have gotten into anyone's face and threatened lawsuits.
"Any
time you want to quit, John, you do it.
Don't take any nonsense from him."
"I
won't." He breathed in the scent of
Rodney's neck, his aftershave and skin.
"You smell great."
"Dads?"
Timmy asked, hovering in the doorway.
"Is everything okay?"
Rodney
waved one arm, gesturing Timmy over.
"John has his job back because being honest and assertive is the
right way to live your life."
"Okay,"
Timmy said agreeably, flopping on the couch to lean against Rodney. "Can we have pizza for dinner?"
John
laughed. He loved his family.
~
the end ~
Title:
Drawing A Line
A ficlet in The Neighborly Detective and the Tragic Woobie Widower universe
By:
Elayna
Pairing:
Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: G
Archive: Area 52, Wraithbait,
my site at: http://www.furholt.net/elaynas_den
Category: AR/AU
Feedback: Always adored.
Summary: John has a problem at work.
Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis
belongs to MGM and several production companies. This fic is written
for love and pleasure, not money.