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“Brigadier General Sheppard, welcome to Earth. Now, given that the Stargate programme has been declassified for quite a while, a lot of people have been very anxious to hear your story.”
“Well, I first heard about the Atlantis Expedition…”
“Actually, sir, we already have a lot of movies about that. What most people want to know about, is you and Dr McKay. You know. How you ended up fuc…”
***
“News conferences are a little more casual than I remember.”
John closed and locked the hotel door with vigour and then rechecked the lock. Then he scanned for cameras and bugs.
“Already done that. Removed seven.”
Rodney lay on the bed, typing rapidly. He was in the early stage of the virus that was preventing him from having to do his share of the media circus; to his great and unconcealed glee. Sadly, Sheppard had already had it and was immune. It still irked John that he had got the virus at an inconvenient and embarrassing time and Rodney had lucked out by contracting it now and getting to spend the entire month here on Earth quarantined in their hotel room, with three laptops, a dozen streaming services and one of the finest selections of quality sci-fi novels on Earth.
Well. At least he looked kinda funny.
***
“Dr McKay is reported to be unwell at present?”
“Yes, he has a virus. It’s not serious, but it is contagious, so…”
“So the rumours that he is, in fact, now a werewolf, are completely untrue?”
“… Completely.”
***
Lukfang’s virus was a condition which caused - as Lukfang, the leading expert, herself put it - “a mild and temporary form of lycanthropy”. It didn’t lead anyone to want to rend people limb from limb or howl at the moon, but it did give them a vast amount of body hair, notably larger and sharper teeth throughout and a hankering for steak, regardless of previous dietary habits, until the virus wore off, after about a month.
The teeth were a pain from the blowjob point of view - which was a point John was often viewing things from - and Rodney tended to shed in the shower, which meant they had a more or less ongoing plumbing emergency, but other than that; well, it was far from the worst virus that either of them had been through.
***
“We all know that you met in Antarctica. Was it love at first sight?”
“Have any of you actually met Rodney McKay?”
***
“I watched the live feed. Never have I seen so many vultures hungry for the remotest scrap of titillation. I blame the hair.”
John cast an glance over Rodney’s unusually hirsute body; receiving a roll of the eyes in return.
“Your hair. You know it won sexiest male of the year in two separate magazines last June, all on its own? Well, of course you do. You probably nominated it.”
John stroked his hair protectively.
“We have a… complicated relationship.”
“You talk to it when I’m not there. Don’t try and deny it. The only thing that worries me is whether it talks back.”
John chose to maintain a dignified silence on the subject. His hair was very sensitive to mood.
***
“The two of you have experienced a number of fluctuations in age, both together and separately, over the years, as a result of Wraith attacks, alien substances, Ancient Devices, falling headfirst into the fountain of youth, etc. etc. President O’Neill has stated, on many occasions, that he was never sure when he called you, whether you’d be packing a gun, a Zimmer frame or a skateboard. Has this ever affected your relationship?”
“Only once, when I was biologically ninety and Rodney stole my hearing aid, because it was just what he needed for the device he was working on. Generally, though, we’ve learned to kind of roll with it. Whatever the outsides, the insides never change.”
***
“Yes, well, you were talking nonsense there, John, they change all the time. I remember when I was ninety, my insides were substantially less reliable then when I was forty. Or twenty. Or even sixty-seven, though they were definitely on a downwards trend at that point.”
“I was more referring to personality, Rodney.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose that hasn’t ever changed much. Though you were pretty crotchety about that hearing aid.”
“I needed it to hear, Rodney.”
Rodney waved a hairy hand. “Yes, yes, details. I apologised. I did apologise, didn’t I?”
Rodney actually looked up from the laptop and turned a look of such doubt and utter contrition onto John, that it caused him to lean over and kiss Rodney’s furry cheek.
“Yes, Rodney,” John lied. “You apologised. It was practically a grovel.”
“Oh. Good.” Rodney looked relieved for a moment and gave John a sweet and toothy smile. Then he frowned. “Hang on, was that incident the reason why my false teeth vanished and I had to wear stupid cartoonish vampire fangs, because that was all that fit me, for the whole five days I was old?”
John coughed and looked away.
“Are you sure all the bugging devices are gone? Maybe I should just do one more sweep…”
***
“There have been many instances on record of each of you saving the other’s life. I’ve heard people refer to you two joking about ‘taking turns’. Do either of you keep a running tally? Who’s saved who the most times?”
“Look, kid, you’re young and maybe you don’t realise this, but when the life of someone you love is on the line, that’s not a joke, that’s not a notch on your wall, or any kind of one-up-manship. It’s stark terror and sleepless nights and scars that go deep and never fade. It’s the need to keep touching them for days and weeks afterwards, to remind yourself that it’s okay, they’re still there. That they’re still there this time.”
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be flippant.”
“Just maybe think a little about the people behind the question, son.”
“Of course, sir.”
“But, for the record… I’ve saved Rodney the most.”
***
“Well, you obviously knew I was watching, so I’m not rising to the bait. But I have a pretty clear itemised list that says otherwise.”
“Hah. I knew it! I knew you were keeping score.”
“It’s not deliberate! I just have near perfect recall. Well, for some things. Not names so much. And capital cities, I never could remember capital cities for some reason. Whenever we had a quiz, I just said Lima to everything.”
John grinned - he had always aced those quizzes - and continued kneading Rodney’s shoulders.
He wasn’t planning to ever admit it - because it got him lots of brownie points, sometimes in literal brownies, which was a rare concession from Rodney - but he really, really enjoyed giving his husband massages. Back, neck, shoulders, feet… more intimate areas - any, and every, part of Rodney, felt amazing to rub. Even when covered in temporary werewolf hair.
“So, um, John? About the rest of what you said. Me too.”
John nodded and took a deep breath, to chase both of their memories away; and then continued working out the knots.
***
“So, the big question… when was your first kiss?”
“…That’s really the big question here?”
“Well, um. No. Actually, the big question is when was your first…”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I get the idea.”
“I just thought we’d work up through the bases until…”
“You know what? I think we might stick to first kiss and leave it there.”
***
“That wasn’t our first kiss, by the way.”
“What? Yes, it was. I came by the lab, you’d just solved some equation or something…”
“…grand unified theory of everything, but, close enough…”
“… and you looked so alive and so damn kissable, that I forgot I wasn’t supposed to find you kissable and, well…”
“Yes, yes, our mouths met, lightning struck, the earth moved. And, as it happens, I completely forgot a key part of my grand unified theory for five whole days, so that kiss actually set back the course of science, but… I suppose, it might have been almost worth it.”
“You soppy romantic, you.”
“Don’t go spreading it about.”
“But, anyway, that was definitely the first time.”
“Nuh uh.”
John shifted so that he could see Rodney’s face, lit up with a mischievous smile.
“Oka…aaay?”
“Third day of the expedition. Everyone was a little overwhelmed and overwrought. So, Elizabeth decided that it would be a good plan for the department heads to have a little downtime, to stop all of our brains from collectively exploding under the pressure.”
John frowned.
“Yeah, I think I remember. She had some smuggled brandy.”
“And vodka. And, for some reason, Newcastle Brown Ale, which, trust me, doesn’t mix well.”
“I remember we talked a little… and then we went to sleep.”
Rodney’s grin widened.
“No, what happened was that we talked a little, then you took off your shirt and challenged everyone to a kissing contest. You claimed that your tongue was the fastest in the west and also won prizes in the categories of ‘most limber’ and ‘deepest dive’. At which point, Elizabeth suggested that I escort you back to your room, with some Tylenol and a glass of water.”
“Oh god, I didn’t.”
“I got you onto the bed without succumbing to your roaming tentacle hands, but then you asked for help with your buttons and, the next thing I know, the fastest tongue in the west is heading straight for my tonsils.”
“Oh god, I did.”
“Yes, well, just be glad I was the only one in that room you kissed.”
John sobered suddenly.
“They’re all dead now. Everyone in that room but us.”
Rodney turned and held John tight, in his hairy arms, and they shared a moment of remembrance and then a drop of brandy and of vodka, as a toast.
They hadn’t any Newcastle Brown Ale, but both of them agreed that that was probably better for everyone.
***
“Thank you, Brigadier Sheppard, for your time and patience. And I’m sure that everyone here will join me in wishing your Dr McKay a speedy recovery. Only one last question, if I may… would the pair of you ever consider retiring to Earth?”
“We’re both very fond of Earth and it will always have a special place in our hearts. But… Atlantis is home now. I think it always will be.”
***
“One down. Twenty-nine to go.”
John tried not to despair too loudly, but it was hard to contemplate the immediate future without wanting to hide in a cupboard, go for a run and keep running, or fight an entire Wraith Hive with his bare hands. Not that they had to do that sort of thing anymore; and the last time that John had seen Todd was at his and Rodney’s wedding. He had bought them a toaster.
But, generally, John would rather do almost anything, other than this relentless, insipid press tour.
“Hmm. You know in rare cases, Lukfang’s virus can recur.”
“What? No it can’t. That’s the only reason they still let me room with you.”
Rodney raised a finger. “Let me put it this way. I have a large quantity of shed hair, some edible body paint, a set of used fangs that I keep for freaking out new scientists, and access, with a little bit of easy hacking, to the Cheyenne Mountain Alien Disease Wiki. And I’m pretty sure they won’t bother checking you over with hazard suits. They’ll wave us back to Atlantis before you’ve finished growling ‘I think I’ve had a relapse’.”
John considered it. An hour or so with some fur glued on to him, fake teeth and an air of completely spurious disappointment; or another twenty-nine days of being grilled about his love-life, with a few small asides on such vital topics as his favourite nebula.
“Okay, Rodney. Wolf me.”
And if it took longer than it should, because Rodney kept forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to be licking the paint off… well.
That was just a bonus.