Seperis (seperis) wrote,

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sgafic: the sleeping room

Basically, the only reason I'm not hiding in shame and horror is because I am sleeping badly and this? Seemed like a great idea. And because frankly, I can blame an entire *entry* of people for it. It's a win-win, really.

I need to think of a title for this series. Hmm.

ETA: Named by shusu, Get a Room.

To beadattitude for Check'mate'verse that makes me deliriously happy, and lazar_grrl who kept making me *imagine this stuff*.

The Sleeping Room
Following The Common Room
by jenn
McKay and Ronon are--thinking.

"It's the women," McKay slurs from the floor.

Ronon blinks, staring up at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that McKay did not just outdrink him. But he's pretty sure he did.

"Women," Ronon says slowly, trying to rewind the evening. It's not working. Some guy that McKay called O'Neill brought them here and told them to stop scaring the Marines. Later, alcohol had appeared.

Rolling on his belly, McKay comes up on both elbows, eyes slightly bloodshot. "Proof," McKay says. "You ever notice how he *never sleeps with women*?"

Ronon lolls back on the cot. "I *told* you I was kidding about the crying--"

"No, no, *think about it*." McKay waves at the door; Ronon squints, but he can't see a thing. "All those women--you ever *see him with one of them*?"

All the time. Ronon frowns. "You mean--"

"No. Sex." McKay looks sadly at their almost-empty bottle. "I should know. I *check*."

On some level, Ronon thinks that should be disturbing, but really, it shows comradeship. "You check? How?"

McKay waves it off. "Security cameras. Nevermind. Look, the point is--" McKay pauses, studying the bottle for a second before picking it up and taking a drink. "I *know*. I *traumatized* him for life."

There's something wrong with McKays' conclusions, but Ronon's not quite sure what it is. "McKay--"

"Look." McKay holds up a closed fist, then waves a single finger. "One, he never dates. Ever. Two. He turned into an evil bug and groped Teyla, then *stopped*. An evil bug! That groped! Then *stopped*."

Point. Ronon's had his moments wondering about that one. "There's nothing going on between them," he says uncertainly, remembering that conversation. Now that he thinks about it…. "Why *isn't'* he hitting on Teyla?"

McKay nods vigorously as his elbows skid out from under him, hitting the floor straight on the nose. To Ronon's bewilderment, he just rolls over, wiping absently at the blood. "See? Who wouldn't hit on Teyla? *Except a man so scarred by betrayal he can't ever love again?"

Huh. Ronon turns it over in his mind, then rolls onto his side, reaching for the bottle. "I really think--" Well, huh. No sex. Doesn't hit on Teyla, even when she's wearing that leather bikini number. While stick-fighting. "You destroyed his life," Ronon says, awed. Squinting down at McKay, he gets the bottle and takes a drink. "That's--" Some word. Meaning not good.

"Bad," McKay groans. "One night of mediocre passion--my back will never be the same--and John--I destroyed John's *life*."

Ronon nods, because now that McKay's explained it out, it makes sense. "And he's your friend," Ronon says, looking into the bottle. It's empty, but he's pretty sure the Marines left more. By the door. "You're the worst friend ever. I only *shot* him a couple of times." Wow. Now that Ronon thinks about it, he should have best friend status already. Sure, he shot Sheppard a few times, maybe disobeyed a direct order or two, but he *didn't* scar his soul.

Dropping on the floor, Ronon crawls over McKay and gets another bottle. "This vodka stuff is really good," he says, bracing himself against the wall. The room seems a lot nicer now, less--claustrophobically mountainy. More friendly. Looking at McKay, Ronon feels a little bad; he's never seen McKay look like that, at least, not since the day they ran out of pudding cups. "But--hey. If she'd cheat with you, she'd do it with anyone. So you did him a favor." And destroyed his life, but Ronon decides to be nice and not say that. McKay looks depressed enough.

"Maybe," McKay says, looking vaguely hopeful, but his gaze is on the other bottle. Generously, Ronon slides it toward him, and McKay opens it and takes a grateful drink. Probably would have been better to sit up, but Ronon's not judging. Ronon is all about not judging.

"He's gonna be alone for the rest of his life," Ronon says sadly. It is sad. Sheppard's a great guy. Little weird about some shit like killing Michael, but other than that, he's pretty much Ronon's favorite commander. Though granted, Ronon's last commander was a traitorous sell-out that destroyed Sateda-- "He deserves better."

"I *know*," McKay says impatiently. There's vodka in his hair. Ronon watches as it drips into the floor. "We need to help him."

Now that's a brilliant idea, but--. Ronon frowns. "He really doesn't like people that much."

Weird, but true. Ronon would bet anything most people had no clue that Sheppard and humanity in general were not as compatible as Sheppard made them think. "He likes us, though."

"True." McKay stares into the ceiling like it's talking to him. This isn't Atlantis, so it's sort of crazy. But he admits the neon colors currently swirling through the air are kind of cool. "So--"

"Huh." Ronon runs through the Atlantis roster; the scientists are all a no-go. Drive Sheppard nuts. Well, drive Ronon nuts, and he hangs around Sheppard a lot. Marines are kind of prudes and whine when Ronon beats them. It's depressing. "Someone he's close to already. Ease him into it."

"Right!" McKay sits up abruptly; Ronon can see now that his shirt is completely vodka'ed out. A waste of good alcohol; Ronon takes a drink sadly, thinking of the missed drunkness represented by McKay's shirt. Life's hard, even in the Milky Way with no Wraith. "Someone he likes. A friend--"

A friend . Well, obviously Teyla's not working out; why, Ronon has no idea. Maybe-- "Maybe you destroyed his love of women," Ronon says slowly. McKay stares at him in horror before thumping back down on the floor.

"I turned him gay."

Well, that narrows their choices down significantly. No Elizabeth. No Cadman. Lorne? Ronon thinks about it carefully. Too short. "Maybe--" Staring at the wall, Ronon realizes who is utterly perfect for this. A friend. Someone he hangs out with anyway. And for that matter, who he taught to play golf. "I'll do it."

It's an attractive idea. He's always around Sheppard anyway. Sheppard has awesome quarters. And the guy's pretty damn hot. Ronon takes a long second, thinking of the weapons they'll clean together on long, cold nights, comparing scars, sharpening knives. They could go hunting Wraith together, and Sheppard's really good with throwing knives. Work out with him and mock him, but this time, with love, and an eye to keeping him in perfect shape. Maybe get into Sheppard's closet and get those damn pants *tailored* already. And then there's sex.

Oh yes, there will be sex.

"What. The. Fuck?" Abruptly, McKay's lurching over him, half-empty bottle in one clenched fist. "You so aren't serious."

"We'd be good together!"

"He likes *smart*. His ex-wife won the Nobel Prize!"

"Are you calling me *dumb*?" Ronon tries to get to his feet, but McKay's in the way and the floor moves a lot less when he's still. "Fuck off, McKay, I'm going to heal his fucking heart that *you broke*."

"Then I should be the one to fix it!" McKay sways, groping toward the wall, then drops in a lump of unhappy scientist. "You aren't--no. No no no. I destroyed his life, I get to fix it."

Ronon stares at him resentfully. "I like him."

Letting the bottle drop gently on the floor, McKay give Ronon a speculative look. "Okay. Make you a deal. Give me Sheppard, you get Teyla."

Oooh. "I'm listening."

"Like this. On Atlantis? She goes on walks. I can--*arrange a malfunction*." McKay's eyebrows waggle weirdly, like unhappy caterpillars. "You, her, locked room. I can guarantee twenty-four hours."

Teyla, Ronon remembers, also has a lot of weapons. And her clothes always fit. "I could be made to see reason."

McKay nods blearily. "Right. Okay. You help me make Sheppard deliriously happy and you? You my friend have a malfunction with your name on it." McKay leans closer. "Deal?"

Ronon thinks a little regretfully of Sheppard's mouth, then nods decisively. "Deal."

McKay smiles happily. "They are the luckiest people in Atlantis, you know," McKay says as he slumps against Ronon's shoulder. "Getting us."

Ronon has to agree.
Tags: fic: stargate:atlantis 2007, sga: get a room
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