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Six months after their unsanctioned return to Pegasus, Rodney found the key to his Nobel Prize: an oblong-shaped piece of Ancient tech that held all the shining promise of allowing them to create their own ZPMs.
"How's it going?" John asked, turning the Ancient neutrino-energy modifier over in his hands in a way that Rodney was trying really hard not to find distracting.
"Hey, no touchy, Colonel grabby hands!" Rodney snatched it away and carefully placed it back in its box.
"It's been three days," John said leaning against the edge of Rodney's desk. He picked up Rodney's pen instead and started turning it over and over in his long fingers. Sighing, Rodney forced his eyes back to the schematics on his computer screen.
"Yes, yes, it's been three days and we're not even halfway finished."
"Maybe you should take the evening off, come get some dinner," John suggested.
"Can't, I have to finish setting up the first test phase and start running the diagnostics."
There was a flicker of something across John's face and then it was gone, replaced with friendly banality.
"Sure," John said easily.
It was enough to make Rodney pause. Before Jennifer, he never would have picked up on anything wrong. While they'd split amicably, those last few awful months had fine-tuned Rodney's admittedly limited senses. He thought John, maybe, seemed...disappointed? Had they had plans tonight?
"It can wait," he said cautiously.
"Nah, you have fun." It sounded genuine, or at least, Rodney thought it did.
"You know I'd much rather be-- " Rodney started and John's eyes widened, flickering to the side, as if to indicate the rest of the lab, busy with Rodney's people around them. Rodney changed tack awkwardly. "--Playing chess. You know that, right? It's just that, this is...well, it's important, and not just because it might earn me a Nobel. This could be the key to us producing our own ZPMs, which, I don't need to tell you would revolutionize our ability to fight the Wraith--"
"Hey, hey, it's fine. I understand," John said with a lopsided grin. And okay, that definitely sounded genuine.
"Maybe we could, uh, take a rain check?" Rodney asked, feeling his ears going hot.
"Sure, buddy," John said, levering himself up to standing from his slouch against the edge of Rodney's desk. "Come find me if you change your mind." He patted Rodney on the shoulder as he passed, the warmth of his hand lingering through Rodney's shirt.
Watching John leave made him feel a stab of regret. The last few times they'd hung out things had... happened. They hadn't talked about it yet, but it was simultaneously terrifying and awesome, and honestly Rodney had no idea where they were going with it but hell, he was having regular sex again. The fact that it was with John was both thrilling and confusing. For the most part nothing had changed between them. They still bickered and argued, but then later one of them would slip up and -
The diagnostic he'd been running beeped furiously at him, jogging him out of his thoughts.
"What the?" Rodney muttered to himself, and two minutes later he'd forgotten about anything else but unlocking the secrets of the Ancients, the promise of a Nobel Prize shining before his eyes.
-*-*
Frantic whispering caught the edge of his hearing. When he looked up, Zelenka, Simpson and Holloway (Hollister? Horner?) were standing in front of his desk, arms crossed. Everyone else had fallen silent, lurking at their desks and watching expectantly.
"What is it? This has better be good, I'm on to something here," Rodney said.
"Really?" Radek asked, curiosity lighting up his eyes. He took a step forward eagerly and then stopped, coughing as Simpson elbowed him in the side. "Uh. Right."
"It's late, Dr. McKay," Simpson said, lips pursed.
"And?" Rodney prompted, at a loss.
Simpson and Radek exchanged a look.
"It is Christmas Eve, Rodney," Radek explained.
"It is?" Rodney asked, glancing at the time stamp on his laptop screen: Twenty Fourth of December. "Huh."
"I know this is important, but it is not urgent, no? It will not do harm if we take a day off," Zelenka said.
"A whole day?" Rodney asked, and then shook his head. "Okay, okay. Take the damned day off, if you've got nothing better to do than to celebrate mystical nonsense," he grouched. This ran like a thrum through the lab, people suddenly smiling and talking, hurriedly packing away. "But I want everyone back here in 36 hours!" he called as people started streaming out of the door.
There was a chorus of "Yes, Dr McKay."
"Thank you, Dr. McKay," Miko said, beaming as she followed the rest of them out into the corridor. Eventually only Radek was left, regarding Rodney solemnly.
"You propose to stay here?"
Rodney glanced up. . "Yes. Why?"
"Maybe you should also take day off," he said.
Rodney scoffed. "What could be more important than this?"
"Rodney, I love my job as much as you. But sometimes there are more important things."
"Like what?" Rodney demanded, folding his arms.
Radek shrugged one shoulder. "Spending time with the people you love?" He adjusted his glasses and then peered over the top of them. "The Colonel seemed disappointed that you would be working," he said shrewdly.
Rodney felt his face heat. "Yes, well, the Colonel and I had plans to play chess this evening."
"If you say so," Radek said.
"Yes, yes, I do say so," Rodney snapped. "Goodnight, Radek," he added, pointedly turning back to his screen.
He heard Radek sigh and then say, "Goodnight, Rodney," and then quieter, "Happy Christmas, my friend," before walking out, footsteps fading down the corridor.
With Zelenka gone, Rodney was alone in the labs. It was a time of day he normally relished. Long, golden uninterrupted hours that were prime time for his best work. Tonight the labs felt too empty, too quiet.
Outside in the corridor he could hear people laughing as they passed by. There was one of those small, tacky LED Christmas trees on Howard's desk, flashing from pink to blue to green and then back to pink again.
Christmas had never been a big deal to him. Each year he'd spend two days eating copious amounts of food and taking the opportunity to not get dressed. Eventually work would lure him back though, and another year would wink out without Rodney noticing.
Even during the first few years on Atlantis the holiday had come and gone with little fanfare. They'd all been too busy fighting for their lives, or scrabbling to repair the city before the next emergency to celebrate.
Recent years had been an exception. He'd spent several stressful, but not-entirely-unpleasant years at the Miller household with Jeannie and Kaleb and Madison. But not John. Really, it was ridiculous to think that in all the years they had known each other, he and John had never once celebrated this time of year together.
And now apparently John wanted to spend Christmas Eve with him. Had John even realised the date? If he had, did that mean something? Rodney had no idea.
The computer beeped and he glanced down at it in surprise, momentarily distracted. The simulation had finished running and the readings looked good. His finger hovered over the 'enter new parameters' button.
Then he pressed the 'save' button instead and started carefully shutting the experiment down.
He practically jogged to the transporter and then paused with his hand over the map as a thought struck him. Crap. What if John had bought him a present? Rodney had nothing to give him in return.
He checked his watch: 11:30pm. Teyla would be asleep by now, but Ronon would still be awake. He tapped his radio.
"Ronon?"
There was a pause and then, "What do you want, McKay?"
"This might sound a bit odd, but has Sheppard given you a present in the last few days?"
"Yeah. Why?" Ronon asked.
"Just humor me, okay? What did he get you?"
"A knife," Ronon replied, sounding dryly amused now.
"Of course he did," Rodney muttered.
"What's it to you, McKay?"
"If you must know, I'm trying to figure out what to get Sheppard."
"Get him something he likes," came the reply.
"Yes, thank you for that stellar advice," Rodney bit out.
"He likes weapons. And things that blow up," Ronon suggested helpfully.
John did like guns and bombs. Neither seemed like a person-I'm-possibly-in-a-relationship-with present.
"What did you get him?" Rodney asked out of pure desperation.
He could hear Ronon's grin in his voice, "A knife."
"Of course you did."
Ronon's gruff chuckle filled his ear and then the radio cut off as Ronon hung up.
Right. Well. That had been no help whatsoever. After a moment's thought Rodney hit the location for his own quarters.
Rummaging through his secret stash, Rodney had to concede that after six months of no supplies from Earth it was sadly depleted. He and John had finished the last six pack a month ago. His secret stash of coffee had been reduced to four beans and some bean shells, clumped in the bottom of the polythene bag. The pathetic remnants were three MREs and a bar of high cocoa chocolate that he'd been saving for an emergency, blackmail, or bribery.
The chocolate would do in a pinch, although it seemed a little impersonal. He pocketed it anyway and then cast an eye around his quarters looking for inspiration. There was a pile of dirty laundry in the corner of his room, a forgotten copy of Physics World Review sticking out from under a mug, his bathrobe over the back of the chair. And then he spotted it: the box sticking out from under his bed.
He pulled it out and examined the contents. Then, with great care, he closed the box up and headed out for John's quarters.
-*-*
It was late enough that the dimly glowing corridors were empty as he walked through the city, box tucked under his arm.
"Hey," John said when he answered his door, looking pleased to see him in his smirking, slouching way.
And this was another thing that had changed. John was leaning in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, one holding a beer, barefoot and dressed in his stupid panda teeshirt and jeans. It was a sight Rodney had seen dozens of times before in their years together on Atlantis. Only now, the sight of John relaxed and happy made something twist up in his chest.
"Hey," Rodney said breathlessly.
"You coming in?" John asked, stepping aside.
Rodney followed him in.
It turned out that John had indeed bought him a present.
"Coffee!" Rodney exclaimed and pressed his face into the Tim Hortons bag, inhaling the dark intense richness of it into his lungs. It smelt like heaven and Rodney could feel the endorphins hit as took another deep breath, his mouth watering. When he lifted his head, John had an eyebrow raised.
"Want me to leave you two alone?" he asked dryly.
"No," Rodney said quickly. He took one more breath and then put the bag to one side. "Where did you get it? I didn't think there was any left in the city."
John leaned back on his elbows in a relaxed sprawl, looking pleased with himself. "Can't give away all of my secrets, McKay," he said.
Rodney really, really wanted to kiss him. Instead he ducked his head. "Thank you. Seriously," he said and John nudged him companionably with his shoulder.
"So what's in the box?" John asked.
"Ah, well - " he picked it up and handed it to John who blinked at him. "Happy Christmas?"
He couldn't read the expression on John's face as he opened the cardboard lid and stared inside.
"Rodney, this is your RC car," he said.
"I was making some modifications. See, look," Rodney said, turning the car over to reveal the souped up power source. "It can do almost 75 miles per hour now - 20 miles more than yours I might add. That is, your old one anyway. More if it's on flat ground. Also it can, uh, fly."
John's eyebrows shot up at that and Rodney had a pang of regret that he hadn't had chance to surprise Sheppard with that particular new feature in a race.
John was still looking at the car in his hands thoughtfully, still with an unreadable expression and Rodney's heart sank.
"I'm sorry, I know it's not much of a present," Rodney started to say.
John shook his head quickly. "Are you kidding? This is so, so cool. Thank you," he said flashing Rodney a warm grin as he carefully put the car on the bedside table. "Hope you're ready to have your ass handed to you on a weekly basis, McKay."
"Oh please. I've had schematics for an even better model drawn up for months. As soon as I've built it, you're going to be eating my dust."
John chuckled.
"You want to try it out now?" Rodney asked eagerly.
"Actually, I kinda had something else in mind," John said with a heated smile. He blinked, suddenly awkward as if he wasn't sure that Rodney was on the same page here. "Um. If you wanted to that is..."
"Don't be an idiot," Rodney said and met him halfway.
John's hand came up to cradle Rodney's face, thumb stroking over Rodney's cheekbone. When Rodney pulled away, John was smiling goofily, and Rodney had to lean back in and kiss him again and again.
"Stay?" John asked, much, much later.
Rodney pulled back and blinked at him. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," John said, tangling their fingers together.
-*-*
The next morning, they took the cars out to the pier and raced them out towards the sea and back. John won every race.
The End
"And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that Christmas has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"
-- Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol