invisible, SGA, John/Rodney, for nestra


"Being invisible sucks," Rodney insisted.

Watching the fork heaped with Kraft dinner float towards Rodney's invisible mouth, John wondered why he couldn't see the stuff slip down his throat and float around in his invisible guts—after all, the mac n' cheese hadn't been hit with an invisibility ray.

Apparently struck with the same thought, Rodney said, as clearly as he could manage around a mouthful of cheesy noodles, "Oh, hey, can you see me swallowing?"

"Nope," John replied calmly. It was, weirdly, easier to cope with the fact that Rodney was invisible than to accept the idea that Rodney was also currently blind.

When Rodney had yelped for him over the comm that morning, Rodney hadn't mentioned that he was invisible. He'd been too busy focusing on the fact that he was stone blind. In fact, Rodney probably hadn't realized he was invisible until John had barreled into him and clipped him in the midsection with his elbow. After feeling around on the floor for a while, listening to Rodney try to remember how to breathe and planting a hand on pretty much the most embarrassing portion of Rodney's anatomy available, Rodney had caught up with the situation and, between gasps, explained his sudden blindness.

"Of course! If light passes through or around you without being absorbed, that includes your retinas. If your retinas don't absorb light, you're completely blind!"

John, who had more than a passing familiarity with basic physics, knew this should be true. Of course the cloaks for the city and the jumpers let everyone see out just fine, but hey. The Ancients apparently had their own brand of physics, and it was just as inconsistent as everything else in this galaxy.

"So does anything taste different?" John asked, strangely interested in the answer.

"Hm?" The head of the fork had disappeared. The sound of noisy gulping and the novel sight of an entire glass of milk tilting into oblivion paused as Rodney said thoughtfully, "No. But does it seem cold in here to you?"

Without warning, Rodney suddenly fully materialized at the table beside him. John wasn't all that surprised to see that Rodney was absolutely naked, especially since he'd inadvertently copped a feel just that morning. Invisibility rays apparently disintegrated your pants while they were at it.

"Hey! I can see!" Rodney grinned.

"Yep. And so can everybody else," John pointed out with a smirk.

How To Be Invisible


touchdown, WW, CJ/Toby for tangleofthorns


"This is how you're spending your vacation?"

A wedge of yellow hallway light fell across his lap like an afghan. CJ was standing in his doorway, backlit like an angel, and holding a bottle of scotch.

He blinked at her, taking in his rumpled apartment, smelly tee-shirt, and still-belted slacks, now liberally peppered with grease spots from the stale potato chips he'd had for dinner. Or possibly breakfast.

"It's not so much a vacation as a suspension," he reminded her sharply.

"Tomato, tomahto," CJ said in her breezy way, gliding into the room and heading for his kitchen. She returned with two tumblers filled nearly to the rim with Glenfidditch.

"Drink this," she counseled sternly, holding one out. "Then we're calling a cab and we're going to see the George Washington Colonials play against the LaSalle Explorers."

"You mean watch them lose against the Explorers."

CJ took a slug from her glass and nudged Toby's into his stubborn hand.

"The Colonials could surprise you. With a shut out. Or a touchdown, even." She clinked her tumbler against his.

"To a touchdown by the Colonials," Toby said waspishly.

"Go team," CJ said with a serene little smile.

Toby felt himself smiling back against the rim of his glass.


Superbowl Sunday, SGA, team for leupagus


Someone, somewhere (John had his money on Lt. Newman) had seen to it to req a copy of the big game and had obligingly uploaded it to the shared server. At breakfast that morning, Rodney showed up looking harassed, glaring at John over his breakfast tray and saying, "I suppose Team Night will have an inevitable football theme?"

"Ronon wants to see Jaws 2."

"I thought we agreed to an unbreakable moratorium on all sequels other than Empire?" Ronon just stared at him.

"Fine, fine, it's negotiable," Rodney allowed.

"I would prefer not to watch anything featuring either sports or ravenous beasts of the sea," Teyla said firmly.

"Oh, could we watch American Idol instead?" Rodney's eyes went bright and eager, and both Ronon and Teyla turned to John, both obviously itching to relive a night of bad singing and snotty comments.

"You guys can catch it at the next Karaoke night," John replied.

"Do we always have to watch TV?" Ronon asked.

"Well. No," John said slowly.

"I believe we should have a picnic," said Teyla.

"Yeah, I'll make sandwiches. McKay, do you still have those orange things?"

"What, you mean Cheetos? Sure, I'm in. What kind of sandwiches?"

"Meatloaf. And larsajin, if there's any left."

"We can bring a laptop, and Sheppard can get his football fix, too."

"Rodney, I like college football. I don't give a rat's ass about the Superbowl."

Rodney gaped at him.

"Seriously?"

"I don't even know who's playing," John said.

"The Giants and the Patriots," Teyla reported. "Lt. Newman asked me if I wished to place a bet."

"Did you?" John and Rodney asked together.

"I did."

"Interesting. I say we pick a team and loser has to clean up the picnic," Rodney said.

"There are four of us and only two teams," Teyla pointed out.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "As if we'd let a woman who's sixteen months pregnant clean up a picnic." He seemed oblivious to the dangerous narrowing of Teyla's eyes. "Or sit on the ground for that matter. We should stake out the reading library—they just put those really nice couches in there."

"Football's stupid," Ronon pronounced. "It's even dumber than ice skating."

John felt his own eyes narrow. "Them's fightin' words, buddy." Ronon looked unimpressed.

"Fine, fine, it'll just be me and the Colonel here. I say Giants, you take the Patriots, and now I don't have to do anything but bring the Cheetos."

"Perhaps we could bring a couch to the nearest land mass? There is a very pretty bay on the northern side. Do you remember it, John?"

John, who saw a lot of heavy lifting in his future, nodded, nonetheless pleased.

Team night. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday.


dinner, XF, Skinner/Mulder, for azepherin


Skinner rolled his sleeves up and picked up another manila folder on the Santos case. Although Scully had left the office for bed an hour before, Mulder thought he could still detect the faint scent of her Chanel. His stomach rumbled as he reached up to loosen his tie, and he felt Skinner turn to stare at him. Lifting eyes to meet the other man's gaze, Mulder was surprised to hear him say, "Want to order a pizza?"

"Sounds good, actually."

Skinner lifted the handset and dialed Bellucci's on the corner-- he ordered a vegetarian deepdish and a six of Sam Adams.

"I thought it was illegal to deliver alcohol?"

That question got the patient glare it deserved and Mulder grinned.


heavy lifting, SGA, John/Rodney for alazirin_nyc


After ten minutes, Rodney shucked his jacket. His black tee-shirt was stuck to the small of his back, and his face was flushed with heat. John, stuck behind an energy field on the other side of all the fallen masonry blocking the control panel, looked on with undisguised interest. It wasn't like Rodney was going to notice anyway, and there was something weirdly compelling about watching Rodney do a lot of hard physical labor without whining about it. Or at least without prodding.

"This would have been a good time to have Ronon around," Rodney panted, his forearms knotting and his biceps bulging as he dragged another hunk of masonry away from the control panel. John didn't disagree. Aside from getting out of this damned place that much quicker, he didn't mind watching Ronon perform manly feats even a little bit. Meanwhile, Rodney's neck and one side of his face were gray and smudged by the hunks of masonry he'd been lugging on his shoulder. It highlighted the muscles of his throat and the almost delicate curve of his cheekbone. John thought idly about licking the gritty dust away, or hiking up Rodney's shirt to kiss the slick small of his back.

Bad thoughts, he reminded himself indulgently. Bad, bad thoughts.

Bending forward, Rodney's pants pulled tight against the sweet line of his ass, and his shirt rode up a little, showcasing an inviting stripe of creamy-looking skin.

Bad thoughts, John told himself a little more sternly. Rodney happened to catch his eye just as he was licking his lips—and John saw the flicker of worry, confusion, irritation and finally, realization on his open, sweating face.

"Wait, no, seriously?"

John just gave him a helpless little "watcha gonna do" shrug.

"You really know how to provide incentive," Rodney panted, dragging at another slab of masonry.

"Just don't hurt yourself, huh? If you throw your back out, we won't even be able to get to any of the good stuff."

"Hm. Good point. Honestly, where's the Daedalus when you need it? Then we could just beam you out of there, provided we could find the right frequency to bypass the forcefield. Or at the very least beam the rubble out of the way..."

"Less talk, more heavy lifting."

Rodney posed self-consciously for a moment, flexing one arm, and John did all he could not to snicker, earning himself a suspicious glare just the same.

"Oh, the hell with it," he muttered, squatting down for another chunk of stone.

Maybe those thoughts weren't so bad after all, John decided.



Geraderichtung (straightness), SGA, John/Rodney for lallybroch


Ronon won't go near the hrlioth on Planet Rodeo, so Teyla elects to stay with him at the lodge while Fisd and Lo-tal show them around the larger ranches. John's okay on a horse, and the hrlioth are close enough, he guesses. Weirdly though, Rodney doesn't even need a hand up to mount his mare. (The males have thick, squared horns that look like polished paddles to John.) When he catches John looking at him he says, "What?" sounding only confused rather than ornery.

"I guess I'm just. Surprised, is all. That you can ride."

"Of course I can ride. Why wouldn't I be able to ride?"

"I didn't know science included bronc busting."

"Shut up, rodeos are barbaric showcases for animal cruelty. No, dressage, there's a sport. Elegance, precision."

John could feel his jaw drop.

"Dressage?"

"What about it? My mother took us to see the musical ride. We were young and impressionable and Jeannie was too young to go to lessons alone!"

"Uh huh."

"I hate you."

John grinned at him.

"I love you," he said smarmily. Rodney surprised him again by taking it at face value and kicking his hrlioth into a trot, and passing John easily.

"Well. Yes. But even so."


julah berry, SGA, Rodney and Teyla for skywardprodigal


When Rodney sat down at the table for dinner that night, Ronon was holding Teyla's hand and John looked… not stony, exactly, but resigned, and a little pissed off.

"Teyla's pregnant," John said shortly.

"You're kidding me!" Rodney's fork bounced off the table. "Pregnant? With a, with a baby?"

Teyla also looked tired, but her eyebrows seemed to indicate amusement.

"Yes, with a baby, Rodney. We're all very happy for her," John added, sounding anything but. "Goodnight, everybody."

John got to his feet and slid his tray off the table. Ronon glanced at Teyla and rolled his shoulders a little, apparently apologizing for John, and left the table to follow after him.

"So. What did I miss?" He asked uncertainly.

"John feels I have placed my unborn child in unnecessary danger," Teyla said evenly, her hand going to her belly. Now that her pregnancy had been pointed out to him, he could hardly believe he hadn't noticed. He'd noticed her breasts, definitely, but it hadn't seemed exactly polite to point out that her always attractive figure had become absolutely bodacious.

"Well. I'm sure he didn't mean it," Rodney offered. "Well, okay, he probably meant it, but not in a mean way. Um. A baby! That is news. A baby. And. Uh. Who's the proud… I mean, you must feel… Actually, I have no idea how you feel. Are you… you do want a baby, right?"

Teyla smiled at him.

"Yes, Rodney. Very much so."

Clapping her shoulder, Rodney beamed at her.

"Well then, congratulations. We should take you Earthside and get you some baby clothes, that kind of stuff. Maybe one of those swings? I'm sure Jeannie could show you around. Women like shopping, right? I mean, you seem to like it. Not as a broad generalization of feminine stereotypes but, uh—"

"I do, in fact, enjoy shopping. I have been a trader for many years, and I would not be so skilled if I did not have some love for it. And I should very much like to see your sister again."

"Good, good. You'll let me put a little something away for Teyla Junior's college fund, won't you? I mean, it'll be my pleasure, and I've already got one set up for Madison, so. It would mean a lot to me. If you'd let me. Okay?"

Teyla nodded, expression serene.

"You do me a great honor, Rodney."

"Um. Right back at you. I mean it."

Teyla took his hand and kissed his temple. Flustered, Rodney plunked his muffin down on Teyla's tray.

"Here you go. Eating for two now, and everything."

Smiling, Teyla plucked a julah berry from the muffin and popped it in her mouth.


direct free kick, SGA, John/Rodney for sloganeer


Hugh Divenbeck smoked like a chimney, so theoretically, all Rodney had to do was stay out of his way until Hugh's bad habits caught up with him, but two packs a day or no, Hugh could sprint like hell and he was utterly fearless. Rodney, who was on the verge of admitting that intellect and imagination could be a drawback on the field, could hardly keep himself from calculating the odds of incurring horrific head-injuries and/or compound fractures.

The new midfielder shouted his name and Rodney jerked his head around.

"Wake up, McKay!" came the new guy's sort of nasal honk. All the freshman's voices had broken that year, but Rodney thought John Sheppard was really going above and beyond, what with practically already needing to shave and all. The ball skidded his way and he blocked it, sidestepping Hugh. Unfortunately, Kir Ganesh was right beside him. Rodney couldn’t dodge him and Kir got impatient and checked him with his shoulder. The short blast of the whistle and then Rodney had a direct free kick ahead of him. John jogged up beside him and banged his shoulder with one long, knuckly hand.

"Just do it like we did it in practice, Rodney. You'll kill 'em."

"You're a madman, you know that? Brian Gibson is the best goalie in the state."

"That's the kind of gorgeous optimism that I'm talking about," John said dryly.

"Shut up. You're messing up my concentration."

"What concentration?"

"Ha ha."

The ref gave them a raised eyebrow. "Any time this week, gentlemen."

"Just picture an empty field, and kick the ball."

"Wide open spaces," Rodney muttered.

"Clear blue skies," John added.

Rodney made the shot.


ika, SGA, John/Rodney for aurora_84


If Rodney had been asked to describe John's expression, he would have said, 'paralyzed with disgust'. The man's face was only a little short of a full-force grimace, with his upper lip curling and his nose all crinkled.

His delicious roll was poised on chopsticks and hovering right in front of his mouth, but Rodney set everything down and gave John his best, "What the hell is your problem?" look.

"It's... squid. And okra," John managed, sounding almost physically pained.

"Yes, it is. Because this is Edo, the best sushi place in town, and because sushi is yummy. You eat sushi! Look, right there on your plate!" Rodney indicated helpfully with his chopsticks. "Sushi!"

"Yeah, but that's normal," John insisted, waving at his plain little sushi boat, his Philadelphia roll cut up into neat little bales of tasty rice and salmon.

"S'good," Ronon said, cramming an entire temaki in his face at once.

"See? Ronon likes it!"

John's eyes said that Ronon could, and would, eat anything, and they both knew it.

"What about this one? Try this one."

"It's got asparagus in it," John whined.

"Oh my god, you have the cultured palate of a five year old. This is a really good restaurant! You should try this stuff!"

John looked unswayed and Rodney popped another piece of ika into his mouth with a sigh that communicated both his satisfaction with the tasty tentacles and his lack of patience with John's refusal to try anything new.

Mmm, ika.


klimal, SG-1, Jacob and Bra'tac for katie_m


Having agreed to let Jack pilot the tel'tak for a while, Jacob was now seated in a corner with Bra'tac, almost forehead to forehead, hunched over a tray carved with narrow grooves and set with small colored disks, and what looked like a twelve-sided die.

"What are they doing?" Sam whispered.

"They are playing kli'mal." Teal'c returned softly.

"It looks complicated." Daniel said.

Bra'tac turned six of his discs over to reveal different colors with a fierce grin. Jacob nodded grimly and rolled the die. He slid two red discs on to Bra'tac's side and slid six blue ones back across onto his own side.

"It is an extremely intricate game of strategy," Teal'c acknowledged. "Very few ever gain such a level of skill." His tone said he felt much pride on Bra'tac's behalf.

Jacob rolled the die again and this time Bra'tac slid six red discs and three yellow to Jacob's side. After some deliberation, Jacob turned over two discs to reveal one white side and one yellow. The look he gave Bra'tac was plainly smug.

"They are well matched," Teal'c said approvingly.

Sam and Daniel exchanged a look.

"This could go on for some time, then, huh?" Sam hazarded.

"Many hours."

"Um. Anybody want a sandwich?" Daniel said. Teal'c, Bra'tac and Jacob made no sign that they'd heard him.

"I'll help," Sam said, and they hustled away, leaving the players to their game.