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English
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Published:
2007-02-19
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1,526
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1/1
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Anonymous

Summary:

"What the hell is the point of an anonymous valentine?"

Notes:

There is a podfic for this story read by me available from here.

Work Text:

*

At 06.43, Rodney got the email. He hadn't even known it was Valentine's Day.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: rodney mckay

I like you a lot.
Love,
Me.


Obviously, the first thing he did was try to find out who it was. Well, okay, the first thing he did was nearly spit coffee on his keyboard. When that crisis was averted, he tried to trace the address. Unfortunately, one of his staff - probably Zelenka, the little traitor - appeared to have been wasting their precious time on installing a new, temporary central server which assigned each user a random sequences of letters and numbers, and he couldn't even use his personal override to get into it. Then, for some reason, Zelenka wouldn't give let him access the server.

"I cannot break confidentiality, Rodney. It is Elizabeth's orders."

Rodney tried to make him understand the urgency of the situation. Zelenka was unmoved.

"Has been a long time for me too, Rodney. I still cannot tell you."

"Well, how many did you get?"

Zelenka smirked. "Three."

"Oh, that is so unfair. What have you got that I don't? And anyway, see! You have much better chances that one of yours will actually ask you out at some point! Mine is clearly an idiot, but quite frankly at this point I'm willing to lower my standards."

That didn't work either.

*

The whole day was crappy. People kept doing things like smiling suddenly into their hands and blushing. At 12.13, Rodney stormed into the cafeteria and ignored everybody.

"I do not understand why you are so upset about this," Teyla remarked, while licking chocolate absently off a spoon, the corners of her mouth turned up. She wouldn't tell Rodney how many she'd got, but Ronon had asked him how to spell 'thighs' the day before. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time.

"What the hell is the point of an anonymous valentine?" Rodney grumbled. "I'd just about come to terms with the fact that there was nobody in the entire Pegasus galaxy capable of appreciating my genius, and now it turns out that there is, but I'm still not having sex."

"When you do not know who sent you it, then it could have been anyone," Teyla said.

"Well, thankyou for that, I would never have figured it out."

Teyla shot him a sharp look. "I mean, Rodney, that anyone could have sent you that email. Do you not find the possibilities exciting? There is -" she waved her hands to encompass, Rodney presumed, the entire population of the Pegasus galaxy, "potential everywhere."

Rodney looked around the cafeteria. The engineer with huge hair who swore at him in German was tipping her head back and laughing; Laura Cadman was sniggering with a bunch of marines; Sheppard was inclining his head with a smile at something the guy serving the food had said.

"No, there really isn't," he said.

Teyla was too busy flushing a colour he'd never seen her go before and smiling down at her empty plate to listen to him, and a second later, Ronon sat down next to them. He nodded at Rodney, then spun his fork around on his tray. He looked at the table.

"So."

"Oh my god, I'm leaving," said Rodney, but he didn't get away quickly enough to miss Teyla's hand slipping into Ronon's over the table.

*

At 16.23, when he couldn't stand all the stupid giggling in the lab anymore, he went out to work on his laptop on the balcony. Sheppard was there. Didn't he ever do any work?

"I swear to god, if you start telling me how many people in Atlantis have a secret passion for you, I'm going to kill you."

Sheppard raised his hands and opened his eyes wide, looking wounded.

"Hey, did I say anything?"

"You were going to," Rodney snapped. "I'm just - people think it's so cute and funny, and it's not. It's shitty."

"It makes people happy, McKay," Sheppard said mildly.

Rodney sat down on the floor bitterly, opening his laptop. Maybe if he looked like he was starting work, Sheppard would just go away.

"Oh, yes, Scrooge McKay strikes again. You don't know what it's like, okay?"

Sheppard leaned over the balcony, slouching so much he looked like he might just slide down to the floor in a puddle. Rodney hated him.

"What what's like?"

"What it's like to -" Rodney swiped a hand over his face and sighed. He supposed it wouldn't make any difference, really. "Look, the one person I would actually like to have sent that email is, by a staggering coincidence, the one person who would never have sent it. And whoever did send it, they - I know I'm difficult, okay? People usually just - just don't want the trouble of actually dealing with me."

Rodney cut himself off before he could get any more embarrassing and swallowed. His eyes had gotten hot, but luckily, Sheppard still wasn't looking at him. He tapped at his keyboard meaningfully, but Sheppard still wasn't going away.

"You send any?" he said finally.

Rodney blinked. "Oh, I - no. I didn't actually know about it until this morning."

"Server doesn't close until midnight," Sheppard said. "Share the love, McKay."

He slapped Rodney on the shoulder and jogged off. Rodney scowled, and started work.

*

At 18.43, Teyla brought Rodney dinner out on the balcony. She looked different. Prettier. She was smiling too much.

"You're glowing," Rodney said accusatorily.

"I am happy," she said. When she went back in, Rodney looked out at the sea and felt more lonely than he ever had in his life.

*

At 21.02, he created a blank email. He stared at it for a while. Then he closed it again.

*

At 23.48, he created another one. This time, he wrote in it.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: John Sheppard

I think I'm in love with you. Of course in your case probably the whole of Atlantis is in love with you anyway (including the city), and they've probably told you that already in one of these stupid emails, and really this is just an exercise in masochism, but I thought maybe if I tell you Ill finally realize how stupid it is and stop. And I might not get another chance to tell you, because you keep nearly dying, and that would kill me, byt he way. Actually, if there is one positive outcome of this whole idiotic exercise I would like it if you try not to die. I suppose I'd also like it if you were


He looked at the computer clock. It was 23.58. Then he accidentally sent the email.

*

At 23.59, he got another email.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: re: John Sheppard

Congratulations! You have a match. <>John Sheppard<> also sent you an anonymous valentine. You are both cowards. Go and be happy together!


He stared at the email for a while. Then there was a knock on his door. He walked over and opened it, dazedly, and Sheppard was standing there. He looked a bit like he'd been hit over the head with a P-90.

"It was you," Rodney finally said.

John cleared his throat.

"Yeah."

They looked at each other for a bit more.

"So," John said. "You're -"

"Yes. And you, do you really -"

"Yeah, I -"

"Oh my god, just come in here, you're such a -"

John stumbled forward when Rodney grabbed him, and suddenly his mouth was mashed clumsily against Rodney's. Rodney's arms came up almost of their own volition to hold him there, in case he tried to get away, but John stayed right there, still kissing him, his hand cupping Rodney's face, sliding around to the back of Rodney's neck as he found a better angle.

When they broke apart to breathe, John grinned dopily at him.

"You sent me the lamest valentine ever," Rodney said, and kissed John's chin, his cheek, the bridge of his nose.

"Give me twenty minutes," John said, shoved Rodney down on the bed and pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one smooth movement.

"Oh my god," said Rodney. Then, in an attempt to regain his dignity, while struggling out of his own shirt, "it's not Valentine's Day anymore. It doesn't count."

"Fine," John said, crawling over to straddle him, looking down at Rodney like he was already calculating flight paths, trajectories. Rodney wondered if you could die from lust. "I'll make it up next year."

*

At 1.47, John mumbled into Rodney's bare shoulder, "You didn't finish."

"What?" yawned Rodney. "Are you kidding? I practically passed out."

John raised an arm and thwapped Rodney on the shoulder before letting it flop back over his chest again.

"Your email."

"Oh."

Rodney stroked through John's hair.

"You suppose you'd also like it if I was - what?"

"Naked."

John snorted, and it kind of turned into a yawn halfway through.

"Romantic, McKay."

Rodney smirked.

"So I'm told."

*

At 2.32, because he thought John was asleep, Rodney said, "Happy."

And John said, "I am."

End