Mucus At Christmas Time
by Suz suzvoy@tesco.net
Christmas present for Danvers :) My very first Atlantis fic! Probably my only one ever, because this was a complete bitch to write! Hehehe. The cover's by me too, and is also my first ever attempt at a manip-y thing. I hope you like them! Merry Christmas! *huggles*
********
John looked at his watch just as the time flicked over to midnight. It felt important that he'd looked just then, and then he remembered why.
"Hey, guess what?"
Not glancing up - the ground was apparently way more interesting than looking at John - McKay sighed. "Please *God*, don't let this be another round of 'I Spy'."
Offended, John frowned. At least he'd been doing something constructive to try and take McKay's mind off the fact that they were and truly screwed. And not in the good sweaty way. "It's Christmas," he drawled, feeling distinctly less cheery. John didn't have a problem with scientists - if anything he was a little in awe of them. But McKay was...McKay.
Still staring at the floor from where he was sitting with his back pressed against the wall, McKay shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "It *is*? Well, in that case..." Scraping a clump of dirt up from the floor, he lobbed it at John. "Here's your present. Merry Christmas."
John blinked as the dirt thudded lightly against his jacket. "McKay..."
"Don't open it all at once now,"
"McKay,"
"I'm sorry," he huffed, "that was childish, it's been eight hours since I've eaten anything, we're trapped in a prison by God knows which aliens - and the less said about their mucus, the better - and you want to celebrate Christmas."
"Hey," John argued, recognising a McKay Freak Out by now, "I never said I wanted to celebrate it. I was just stating that it *was* Christmas, as a..." he gestured with his right hand, "...point of interest."
McKay snorted. "I know you're just trying to make me feel better, Major."
Damn. "Oh, *really*?"
"Yes," McKay said snottily, glancing across at him, "the psychological impulses of Major John Sheppard are easy enough to decipher."
"I see," John replied, shifting against his wall and deciding this was as good a way as any to keep McKay distracted, "and what makes you such an expert on the human condition?"
"Never said I was," McKay shrugged, "I just know you."
He didn't make the idea sound particularly appealing. "In that case, Mr Therapist, what am I thinking right now?"
Closing his eyes, McKay lifting his head and brought his hands together in a mock prayer. "Dear God, please let Ford and Teyla come rescue us before I have to think up another insane topic of conversation to keep McKay's mind occupied, because it's not as if he can keep his own mind occupied. It's absolutely laughable that he's a technological genius who can go over blueprints in his head in an attempt to keep himself distracted from the certain sticky doom we're both facing. Oh, and can I have sex one more time before I die? Thanks. Love, John."
Wow. That'd been an impressive speech even for McKay, a guy who normally ate dictionaries for breakfast. Though, naturally, there was no way in hell John was actually saying that. "Nice try, Rodney. Maybe you should have gone to Seminary School instead of Nerd School."
Opening his eyes and lowering his hands, McKay shook his head. "Nerd School was easier to get into."
John nodded. "That actually explains a lot." There was a shared moment of almost humour before they were back to the stubborn silence. "So what would you be doing if you were home right now?"
"*Home* home?" McKay surprised him by not arguing, "As in Earth?" At John's nod, he continued. "Given that it's just gone midnight, I'd probably be sleeping."
John rolled his eyes. "I meant for Christmas."
Clearly knowing that's what John had meant all along, McKay almost smiled. John knew because the persistent glower lessened.
"I'd be doing what I always do - spending time with Belinda." He sighed heavily, obviously in fond reminiscence.
Belinda? There was a Belinda in McKay's past? There was an *anyone* in McKay's past? And how the hell did John not know anything about it? Not that it mattered. At all. He was just surprised that McKay had someone at home and never said anything about it. Gloating about anything and everything he could was like the guy's favourite past time. Well, that and driving John insane. "Belinda?"
Nodding, McKay sighed again. "Beliiiinda. She's so..." He seemed to be searching for the right word. "...slinky."
"Slinky?"
An actual smile now, although McKay seemed to be looking at something that wasn't there. "And unlike most, she actually likes it when I rub her stomach."
It took John's brain a good fifteen seconds to figure it out. "McKay?"
"Mmm?"
"Is Belinda your cat?"
Suddenly all of McKay's previously lax attention was focused on him. "Don't say it like that," he ordered, the smile gone.
John was lost. "Like what?!"
"Like I'm some sad old man who can only find companionship with a cat!"
John stared. "I wasn't saying that!"
"In case you hadn't noticed, people tend to irritate me!" McKay leant forward, away from the wall.
Oh, what a shocker. "You don't say?!"
"Cats don't!"
"Okay! I get it!"
"There's no need to shout!"
What the hell? "Are you shitting me?!"
Something thumped loudly on the door, an obvious warning. Remembering just how big the aliens had been, John shut the hell up.
For once, Rodney actually did the sensible thing and copied him.
A while later, after they'd heard heavy footsteps thump away, John mumbled, "Feel better getting that out of your system?"
"Actually," McKay paused, "yes. A little."
That was something.
"What about you?" he continued.
"Not really," John replied. He was still kinda pissed. Stupid scientists and their stupid Atlantis-sized egos.
"No, I meant for Christmas," McKay said. "What do you usually do?"
"Oh." Oh. He shrugged. "Eat obscene amounts of food. Open presents from relatives I haven't seen since I was a kid. The usual."
"Spend it with anyone?"
"Not usually. What family I have left live nowhere nearby, and the friends that are still alive have their own families." He didn't feel bad about it. "But that's what makes us perfect for coming to Atlantis, right? They wouldn't want anyone with too many ties back to Earth."
McKay nodded as if he understood. "You know...I doubt it'd take too much work for us to make Atlantis look Christmassy."
John actually grinned. "You think Weir would approve?"
"Please. Much as I respect Elizabeth, between the two of us I'm sure we could convince her of anything."
"Say that next time she's in the room and maybe I'll believe you."
McKay's eyes widened, and John knew he was right - there was one thing that McKay found absolutely terrifying, and it wasn't the Wraith.
Something thumped on the door again. And it really was some *thing*, because whatever had captured them earlier, it certainly hadn't been human.
Shifting further away from the door, McKay complained. "But we weren't even shouting this-"
The wooden door swung open.
In a matter of moments, John was up and standing between McKay and the Alien Mucus Guy. "Hey, hey," John said, holding up his arms when he really should have been worried about losing them, "what's the rush?" Swallowing heavily he realised he'd addressed Alien Mucus Guy's chest, and made himself look up. And up.
Ewww.
"Sheppard. McKay," Alien Mucus Guy ground out in rough, deep tones, looking at them each in turn, like they might become the starter to whatever latest human-eating massacre he had planned. "I have..." Suddenly he whipped his left arm out, holding two pieces of paper firmly in his huge hand. "...your travel permits."
John almost felt disappointed. "Travel permits?"
"Our *what*?" McKay said from behind him.
"No one may travel without appropriate travel permits," Alien Mucus Guy said, quite reasonably. "Which is why you were brought here. I have now arranged for travel permits for you."
John was hypnotised by the mucus running out of that large nose. "Uh...that's great. Thanks."
"Sheppard," Alien Mucus Guy said quizzically, "you seemed fascinated by my nose mucus. Do you find it offensive?"
"No, no," McKay said, suddenly pushing in front, which was pretty handy as the mucus was still having opiate-like effects on John, "your mucus is lovely, sir. Some of the best I've ever seen. We're just not used to seeing it in such quantities."
"Ahhh," Alien Mucus Guy responded, "I understand. Your own mucus does seem dismally small."
McKay nodded tightly. "Quite."
"We have been observing you," Alien Mucus Guy suddenly announced out of nowhere, snapping John out of his trance. Frowning, he glanced around the room again. Still no sign of any kind of surveillance he recognised, and quite frankly they didn't seem advanced enough to have any technological kind of surveillance.
"Okay," John said carefully. "Thanks for sharing that."
Alien Mucus Guy nodded, like he was doing them some huge favour. Well, a second one. "We thought you should know that unresolved sexual tension is not good for you. Now, come. I will show you how to leave this facility."
John blinked as McKay. McKay blinked at John.
McKay sighed, slumped his shoulders, and trooped after Alien Mucus Guy. "I'm being given advice about sex by an alien who thinks it's a good idea to have snot all over your face. I *hate* my life."
Smiling, John followed and very carefully did not check out McKay's ass.
"Merry Christmas."
~FINIS