Fic - Sting of Destiny by Jade_Dragoness

[jade-dragoness.livejournal.com]

Title - Sting of Destiny

Pairing - McKay/Sheppard

Rating-PG-13

For the Harlequin Challenge

Summary - Dr. Rodney McKay has discovered that his treacherous assistant Kavanagh had deliberately lost the papers he needed to renew his research license inside the United States. And now there was no time to get the papers filed on time. He was going to lose his position at the University. And he was just about to make a break through in the field wormhole research that would revolutionize all of manned space travel for all time! In the middle of this despair, test-pilot John Sheppard offers him a simple solution. Marry an American.

Author notes: I want to thank kmanderson for playing Beta and correcting my grammar errors. Especially on the insanely short notice she was working under. And also for the title. Yes, the title is all hers because I SUCK at thinks like that. All screw up are mine.
*-*-*-*


Rodney McKay, better known as Dr. Rodney McKay to the lesser intellectual world, was bent over nearly double, frantically typing on his laptop trying to get his racing mind to slow down just enough for his fingers to be able to type up the new theory that had blazed into his mind just an hour ago.

“Mmm…excuse me.. Dr. McKay…,” said, a very scared voice behind him.

McKay snarled, and with a fierce sideways toss aimed the pen that had been lying on a stack of papers at the stupid disturbance that would DARE to interrupt the most brilliant mind in the world while in the middle of a breakthrough!

“Ow.”

McKay ignored it and kept tying. If he was correct, and he so very often was, then there was absolutely no reason to think that gravity in itself could have any correlation to the formation of the wormhole. But that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be influenced by the background radiation of the solar spectrum as well as the mass of the specific planetary bodies. If anything, the very same energy could cause a shift in the overall destination of a spatial wormhole, which meant that you could actually use the energy of a star in order to control the destination of a wormhole upon formation!

And after the initial formation the wormhole could actually be self-sustaining if one fed the star’s energy configu-

“RODNEY!”

McKay jerked back in his chair at the shout that blasted right next to his ear.

“WHAT?!” He spun around to inflict immediate death only to find Carson Beckett, the university‘s foremost geneticist/faculty physician, and one of the few people that could sometimes scare him, glaring right back at him. The man had an obsession with needles that bordered on the psychotic and a willingness to use innocent astrophysicists as pincushions to remove blood. Carson had proven to be more bloodthirsty than the most starved vampire.

Rodney blinked, then stood up straight to shout, “What the fuck do you want?! This isn‘t even your department! Go torture mice or undergrads or whatever it is THE HELL YOU DO!”

Carson glared right back, while behind him Rodney’s assistants cowered at the sight of someone provoking the infamous McKay temper. A strange young man in brown messenger clothes hovered nervously between the assistants and Beckett, a small red bruise marring his forehead. He flinched as Rodney’s voice grew louder and louder.

“For the past forty minutes this young man has been trying to get your attention,” Carson said while pointing at the shifting messenger that was starting to look like he‘d rather chew off an arm than talk to Rodney McKay. Carson’s Scottish brogue masked the annoyance he felt in having to play the McKay Tamer for all the scientists in this school. Well, nearly all. Radek Zelenka was known to be able to withstand the force of Rodney’s ego even when in full avalanche-and-raze-anyone-in-the-way mode. As it was, since Radek was out on his lunch break this was the fifth time in the past three days he was forced to leave his own lab to come to Rodney’s.

“What?!” Rodney barked.

The messenger flinched again and had to resist the urge to back away. Was it his imagination or were the man’s eyes glowing red?!

“Urm…I-I-” he stuttered.

Rodney rolled his eyes and stomped over to the messenger. “I don‘t care about the brain damage that you are obviously suffering from! Give me what you’ve brought me.”

The messenger held out a package in a shaking hand. It was a long brown envelope of the sort that important pages that can’t be folded were sent within. In the other hand he held out his clipboard for a signature.

Rodney scribbled something illegible, but the messenger wasn’t willing to stick around to debate exactly what the other man had written, so he high-tailed it out of there. Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, Carson followed him out.

Rodney scowled at his assistants to make them to get back to work and was all set to toss the envelope onto the nearest clear surface when the quick glimpse of the address made him pause.

Why would INS be sending me anything?

Curiosity compelled him to open it up, pull out the single sheet of paper that was within and swiftly read the contents.

He stilled in shock.

This couldn’t be possible.

“WHAT?!” he screamed, making the remaining people in the room dive for cover.

-------------------------------------

Rodney paced back and forth in front of Dean Weir‘s desk.

“They can‘t do this to me!” Rodney waved the slightly crumpled page in the air. “Do they have any idea how close I am to formulating a working theory on wormhole creation and formation that would blast away the Einstein-Rosen Bridges theory to the point that they will have to name them McKay Bridges?”

“Rodney,” said Dean Elizabeth Weir in a calm voice.

“Don‘t they have the faintest clue the impact my research will have on the future of this country! No, not just this stupid too-hot country but on the future of the entire world! I‘m vital and essential! I‘m too important to be tossed away due to someone’s incompetence and inability to read at the level of a 6th grader.”

“Rodney.” Weir’s voice grew sterner.

“I have to be here! Don‘t they realize that if I could have gotten access to the equipment and funding in my own country that I wouldn‘t have bothered coming down here! I can‘t leave just now! I‘m in the middle of some very important research that without me would be reduced to utter failure! I can‘t leave the lab alone for more than a few minutes and now they expect me to leave the country? They’ve lost whatever little minds they ever had to begin with!”

“Rodney, no one said you had to leave.” Weir said, puzzled at the thought of Rodney being forced to depart the country. It often took the combined efforts of Carson, Zelenka and her just to get the man to leave his lab, much less get him to leave the country, especially on such short notice.

“Ha! Well, according to the INS I have to leave within a week! I can‘t return to Canada now!” Rodney thrust the paper he’d been waving around into Weir’s face.

She took it with a frown and read it carefully so not to miss any detail.

To her incredulity, even a second read through didn’t change the contents.

According to the letter, Rodney’s research visa, which he needed in order to be able to work and continue in his scientific research in United States, would expire within a week. And since he had ignored previous missives to renew the license, the INS was taking this to mean he had no intention to continue to reside within the US of A and would be expected to leave the country at the appointed time.

As she mulled over the letter, Rodney continued to rant and rave. Finally she said, “Rodney. What previous letters are they talking about?”

Rodney paused and blinked at her before his eyes narrowed. “I have no idea but I intend to find out.” With that, he spun around and stalked out of her office, leaving the dean to frown at the letter before reaching for her phone.

-----------------

“I‘m going to kill you!” Rodney raged. He tried to lunge for Kavanagh’s throat and only the combined strength of Beckett, Zelenka and lab tech Peter Grodin kept his hands from ripping out the bastard’s sniveling spine through his nose.

Kavanagh jerked back, and as soon as he noticed that Rodney was incapable of advancing more than a few centimeters, he sneered, “I‘m not to blame that you are so wrapped up in gloating over your puffed up ego that you ignored the mail you were receiving. I have more important things to do then play messenger boy to you.” The derision in his voice was clearly audible.

Rodney snarled, “I gave you that paperwork to mail off two months ago! You are the most useless lab assistant I have EVER had inflicted upon me! You couldn‘t even mail away a letter without losing it! If your father wasn‘t considered to be such an important contributor to this university I would have kicked your ass out on the curb so long ago!”

Kavanagh leered, “Too bad you won‘t be here long enough for me to see you get punished for attacking me.” His eyes gleamed. “But now, you have to go back to the rock you crawled out of.”

Too angry to form words, Rodney jerked forward with so much force that he dragged all three men with him as he tried wrap his hands around Kavanagh’s scrawny neck.

“Rodney! Calm down,” Zelenka shouted as he tried to keep Carson’s elbow from knocking off his glasses.

“Yes! This isnae the way to handle things, man!” Beckett panted, while silently signaling Grodin to take the enraged man down. If Rodney managed to get a hold of Kavanagh then it would be too easy for the man to scream assault and then Rodney would really be in trouble.

Grodin nodded his understanding and gave a silent prayer for his future well being, hoping that McKay would be too angry at Kavanagh to go after him for what he was about to do. With a twist of his hip he managed to slide his leg between McKay’s, causing the Canadian to trip and sprawl face first on the tiled floor.

With a yell, all of his restrainers fell right on top of him.

Kavanagh took this opportunity to run out of the lab where they had cornered him. He shouted behind him, “Wait until my father hears about this!”

Rodney tried to yell a threat right back at him but his breath had been knocked out so completely that all he managed was small wheezy gasp.

Zelenka, Grodin and Beckett scrambled off him. McKay levered himself up for enough far him to glare blue death lasers at all three men.

Beckett sighed, “That isnae the way to deal with this mess, Rodney.”

Grodin silently held out his hand for McKay to use to get himself up.

“Oh, yes. And you are the expert on having to handle incompetent idiots like Kavanagh, are you? He wasn‘t assigned to you to have to deal with!” Rodney said as he pulled himself to his feet. “Do you even have any clue as to what that idiot has done to me?!”

“I‘m sure that sending some articles to some magazine for you isn‘t really that important,” Zelenka said calmly as he adjusted his glasses that had been skewed from the fall.

“Magazine articles!” Rodney waved his hands in sheer fury. “As if I would trust him not to try to take credit for my research! No! What that little piece of sewage did was fail send in the necessary papers, which I needed in order to stay in this country!”

Beckett eyed McKay in sheer bafflement. “You dinna trust the man to mail away your research but ya trusted him with that?”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Of course not. That information was sealed and ready to go. He shouldn‘t have known what was in the envelope unless he opened it up and deliberately tried to sabotage my license renewal.” His eyes narrowed, and his chin lifted in indignation. “I wouldn‘t put it past him to try exactly that…”

Beckett and Zelenka exchanged glances as the rage in McKay’s eyes returned. His anger made a visible red flush rise on his face.

“Okay, that‘s it. You need to calm down,” Beckett scolded. “You‘re too emotional to handle this rationally.”

“I am so! I‘m the perfect example of reasonable judgment and rational thinking,” Rodney protested.

Next to him Zelenka rolled his eyes and muttered something in Czech which probably meant that he couldn’t believe that such a blatant lie could come from anyone without him getting struck by lightning.

“We‘ll deal with Kavanagh. And Papa Kavanagh,” Carson said. “I want you to go get some fresh air and get a hold of yourself before you do something you‘ll later regret.”

“As if I would ever regret stepping on a worm,” Rodney said.

“When was the last time you went outside for some sunlight? You‘re paler than the belly of a fish. Any whiter and you‘d be translucent,” Beckett continued as if Rodney had not said a word. He wrapped a hand around the Canadian’s arm and tugged him toward the exit. “Vitamin D is very important for your health.”

“I happen to have a very sensitive pale complexion. I burn too easily. Wait,” Rodney protested. “You can‘t seriously expect me to go outside like this, do you? I haven‘t even brought any of my special sunscreen with me! Do you have any idea of the UV levels that come down through the holes in the ozone layer? If I get skin cancer I swear I‘m going to sue you for all you‘ve got Carson! Do you-!”

As they walked down the hall, McKay’s voice grew fainter.

Radek Zelenka sighed and turned to Peter Grodin, who was looking a little pale under his golden tan. He was still contemplating all the tortures that McKay would find too easy to inflict upon him.

“Well, guess this means we need start looking around.” Zelenka grimaced at the disorder that Kavanagh had left behind.

“Do you really think that McKay‘s going to be forced to leave?” asked Grodin quietly.

“Only if we‘re lucky,” Zelenka said dryly. “No, with our luck the man would harass INS into giving him citizenship so no such thing happens again. What we need do is find paperwork he need to cover his ass.”

Grodin’s teeth gleamed as he laughed.

----------------------------

Rodney continued to grumble even minutes after Beckett had taken him to the nearby park that ran parallel to the university‘s scientific research department.

After a few minutes of sitting on the hard cement bench, he was feeling a little better. Not that he would ever admit it to Carson. But it was reassuring to have the help of the others. Even if they did stop his perfectly justifiable homicide attempt and make him go sit outside in the skin ravaging sun. It wasn’t as if he was some sort of uncontrollable child, he was fully capable of reigning in his temper when he needed to; it was just that Kavanagh had never given him any reason for such efforts.

Rodney sighed and leaned his head back to rub at his eyes with a hand. More than being essentially told you had one week left to stay, before being kicked out of a place you’ve grown to think as home, it galled at how close he felt he was to the breakthrough in his research that he just ‘knew’ would completely revolutionize everything everyone had ever thought they knew about physics.

And if he could get it to do what he thought it could - then there was even a chance on getting it to work for space travel.

It would be faster than light travel that would take no more than eye blinks. BLINKS! To travel between stars. That was the theory that demanded his attention and time.

And the answers to his questions on how to make it work were just hovering out of his reach but so close that he could feel the flutter of them on his skin.

…..Wait, when did he start thinking he was any kind of poet to come up with such a trashy metaphor for the glory of his theory. Rodney frowned and focused his attention outside of his inner thoughts.

There were minute shifts of air near one of his hands.

A cautious head tilt revealed the source. Rodney’s eyes grew wide with terror at the small fuzzy bee that was investigating the sensitive thin skin of his inner left wrist. The very same spot that had some pretty big arteries that could send bee venom all over his body in seconds!

Rodney started sweating as he tried to stifle the urge to scream. Slowly, with a trembling free hand that wasn’t the bee attractor, he cautiously reached for his lab coat’s pocket for his epinephrine injector.

Only to find the pocket completely empty of the EpiPen.

‘OH MY GOD. I’M GOING TO DIE.’ Rodney thought, now incapable of stopping of the frantic gasps that were escaping his throat.

To his ever mounting horror, the bee floated up to his face, as if intrigued by the sounds that its immobile prey was making.

‘Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap,’ rang through his mind in a continuous cycle.

“You don‘t want to do this,” Rodney whispered as he eyed the bee. “I happen to be a very important individual. I know that you only exist to try to exterminate innocent people like me. But I‘m not a normal plebeian! I‘m a genius! Certified and everything!”

The bee didn’t seem impressed. If anything, its buzz seemed to increase as if it was angered. Or possibly signaling its fellow bees to come forward to attack.

“Listen, I‘m about to make space travel via wormholes a real possibility. I‘m very close. If you just go away and let me live, I‘ll be able to finish the theory. And knowing the idiotic affection most humans hold for your species there could also be bees traveling to other planets. You don‘t want to ruin the best chance you have to terrorize and conquer other worlds, do you?”

The delicate feel of tiny feet landing on his cheek made him clamp up.

Rodney closed his eyes and tried to stifle the trembling of his body. But too many memories of previous attacks that he had endured just made it this situation all the more worse. The only reason he’d never died from being stung all those times in the past had been that he had always carried his epinephrine with him. Or he had been sure to have someone with him that knew about his allergies and could react quickly when he was having an anaphylactic attack!

See. That was why he HATED the outdoors with a passion rivaled only of his hatred of lemons. Especially spring. He never had to worry about death by yellow fuzz balls when it was winter.

He was so frustrated and frightened that he could not muffle the pathetic whimpers that escaped his throat.

Rodney quickly grew mortified was well as terrorized. And now he was sounding like he was a short step away from bursting into tears-- in public.

HOW COULD THIS DAY GET ANY WORSE?!

“Hey. Are you okay? What‘s wrong?” asked a mellow-toned male voice beside him.

‘Okay, universe that hates me, that was NOT a challenge.’ Rodney snarled mentally.

Rodney forced his eyes open only to fall into a pair of gorgeous hazel eyes that glowed with warmth so real that he could feel them heating him up from the inside out.

He blinked twice in order to restart his brain and finally notice that no, those weren‘t a pair of free floating eyeballs hovering in front of him, but rather an entire handsome man wearing jogging clothes whose dark hair was so askew that it looked like freshly thrashed grass that had been attack by toddlers.

Rodney forced out through clenched teeth, “No, I‘m not okay. I‘m so far from okay, I’m in another continent from okay. I‘m deathly allergic to bees. And I don’t have my medicine.”

The eyes widened in realization as they flickered to the bee, still sunning itself cheerfully on Rodney’s cheek, before narrowing in thought. “Ok. Don‘t move, I‘m going to try to get it away from you.”

Rodney would have been very sarcastic and scathing in saying that he rather felt the urge to start dancing any second now if it wasn’t for the fact that it looked like he was actually going to get help and therefore get out of this alive. So, he rather felt that he could ignore any inane comments from his rescuer.

A firm broad hand grasped his chin, holding it immobile against his automatic flinch.

Suddenly, those eyes that had so hypnotized him were even closer now and once again Rodney felt himself being drawn into them.

The warm gentle fingers that started brushing against his cheek were startling. He clenched his eyes not wishing to see what happened next if the man failed.

This caught the other man’s attention though. He said softly, “Hey, no matter what, if you happen to get stung I‘ll get you help. Trust me.”

Rodney swallowed and forced his eyes open. The man gave him a lopsided lazy smile.

Then, swifter than he thought it was possible for a human being to move, the stranger plucked the bee off and tightened his fist around it. He instantly grimaced, then opened his hand to show the stinger embedded in soft flesh between the thumb and forefinger of his palm. He scraped the stinger out and crushed bee away with a flick of his finger and wiped off what remained of it on the knee of his pants.

Rodney’s heart leapt and then frantically restarted.

“Oh, I thought I was going to die,” he breathed, slumping onto the bench. “You are just single handedly responsible for preventing the world from losing the greatest mind it has had in the last 50 years.”

A dark eyebrow arched upwards in surprise at the swift turnaround in attitude.

“This is why I don‘t come outside. I hate spring. This is when those killers come out hunting good innocent people like me. Why did I listen to Carson? I need Vitamin D. Ha! The man probably got his medical license from a Cracker Jack box or one of those useless internet spam sites. I‘m going to get my revenge. He won‘t know what hit him by the time I’m through with him.”

The stranger‘s eyes were wide now. “How do you breathe? Were you born with an extra set of lungs or something?”

Rodney stopped his rant and scowled. “Of course not, Mister Killer of Bees, I have a perfectly good set of normal lungs. They are probably the best-”

“John Sheppard,” the man interrupted while holding out his hand.

“What?” Rodney blinked and automatically reached up to shake it.

“My name.” The smile that spread across the other man’s face was broad and amused. “My name is John Sheppard, not Killer of Bees. What’s yours? Unless you want me to call you Mister Nearly Stung by a Bee.”

“Doctor, not Mister. Doctor Rodney McKay. PhD not MD,” Rodney clarified. He still didn’t get why people always assumed he was a medical doctor before anything else. As if medicine was any sort of real science.

“Rodney McKay.” Sheppard’s head tilted to side as his gaze swept across Rodney’s body. “Nice to meet you.”

“Wait until you get to know me, then say that,” said Rodney. He dropped the other man’s hand as he realized he had been holding it for much longer than necessary for a simple introduction.

“I‘d like that.” Sheppard said. The warmth in those eyes grew brighter with interest.

Rodney had no idea of how to respond to that. People didn’t just act that way towards him. Of course, usually the first impression they got from him usually involved him yelling, scowling or insulting someone for their ignorance and blatant stupidity.

Sheppard continued ruefully, “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to finish my run before getting ready for a meeting I can‘t skip out of.”

“Oh, right.”

“So, I guess I‘ll see you later.” Sheppard stood up and started to jog away. “And since I saved your life I guess you can buy me a few beers as a thank you,” he called out.

Rodney instantly scowled and yelled back, “My life is worth more than a few beers.”

But Sheppard just waved and raced off.

Rodney shook his head, wondering that the hell he thought he was doing. He rolled his eyes at himself before getting up to stalk back to his lab - he had work to do and an appointment to yell at Carson for nearly sending him out to his doom.

And if he happened to come across any bees along the way, his screaming and frantic running away could hardly be held against him.
-------------------

“AAARGH!” yelled Rodney in frustration. He threw the white phone against the wall of his office where it didn’t even break apart and only managed to piss him off even more.

Were the offices of the INS staffed only with total idiots? How hard was it to understand that the failure of the paperwork to arrive on time was in no way at all his fault?

“So, I take it this is a bad time.”

“AARGH!” Rodney screamed again, louder than ever, this time in pure fear.

“Ouch.” There, sitting on the side table that was nearest to the door was the jogger from this morning. He was rubbing his ears and giving Rodney a reproachful look behind dark lashes.

“How long have you been here?!” yelped Rodney. “And hey! How did you find me?”

“Not long. And you told me you were a PhD. It makes sense for you to be working here. After that it was just a matter of getting a hold of someone to point me to the right place,” Sheppard shrugged, his hazel eyes locked with Rodney’s. “I wanted to know if you were still up for some beer.”

“Yeah why not?” Rodney stood and fished out a jacket from under a pile of files. “I‘m not getting anything done here. Might as well take a break before continuing to deal with red tape permanently causes damage to my highly developed brain.”
---------------

It took over an hour of babbling about incompetence of certain lab assistants and the people that were out to get him before Rodney realized that he knew next to nothing about the person he had agreed to go get drunk with. And even if the man had saved him from a rather abrupt death, that was no reason to think that he wasn’t some sort of serial killer on the prowl for another victim.

So rather nervously, he gulped down the last of the beer in the bottle. “So enough about me. Err…what exactly do you do again? When you‘re not out running around and rescuing astrophysicists.”

Sheppard‘s mouth quirked up. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking that. I work over at Sky Tech. I‘m one of their test pilots.”

“Huh,” Rodney said as he signaled the bartender for more beer. The testing facilities of that company were close to the university’s campus and quite often they asked to use some of their technical equipment to test certain materials under conditions that only the university’s labs had the unique capabilities to do.

He himself had often wandered over to their site. They had requested his help on a few occasions and they donated enough money to the research labs that he was obligated to at least look at what they had to show him or at least that was what Elizabeth constantly told him whenever he complained about being interrupted. He didn’t recall seeing Sheppard before, but then he didn’t really spend much time over there.

“Wait, doesn‘t the company have a policy of hiring former military pilots for their research?”

The sudden tension in Sheppard’s body didn’t stop him.

“So you used to be in the military.”

“Yes,” said Sheppard tightly. “I don‘t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.” Rodney looked at the other man uneasily wandering if he was set to storm off in a huff. That happened on a lot of his dates for some reason…..not that this was a date. The man was very attractive but he had just admitted to being former military. That was about as straight as they came in this country.

Desperate to take his mind off his own thoughts, Rodney drained the rest of his beer, and asked the bartender serve him more, only to be told that they were out of the bottled brand of his favorite drink. And would he take Guinness in a mug?

Annoyed, he agreed.

In order to interrupt the awkward silence that had come between them and in order to change the subject they had just left, Sheppard asked, “So what kind of work do you do?”

“Well, I‘m doing revolutionary research that will change the entire field of science when I‘m finally able to finish my theory.” Rodney sighed and looked gloomily into his drink.

“You don‘t sound particularly happy about it,” Sheppard observed.

“Are you kidding. I love what I do. I can‘t image doing anything else.” Rodney scowled and pushed the mug away certain he saw oily smudges on the inside of the glass. “But I‘m probably not going to be able to do it for very long.”

“Why?”

“One of those assistants inflicted upon me never filed a form that I need in order to renew my visa to stay in this country,” sighed Rodney. The few hours he had spent on the phone with the nearest INS office had made no difference. All they were able to do was tell him that it was too late. That these things were done in a time controlled manner and that he was more than welcome to reapply to return next year.

An entire year!

They had absolutely no clue at the sheer number of things he could discover in that stretch of time.

“You‘re not American. Let me guess, you‘re Canadian.” Sheppard looked at him with finger pointing at the empty bottle of beer next to him. The label Molson Canadian was bold and easy to read.

“Yes. Good, your skills of observation are very impressive,” said Rodney sarcastically.

Sheppard’s sideways smile flashed out. “So how long do you have?” he asked as he took a sip of his drink.

“Five days.”

Sheppard choked, then coughed harshly for a few seconds. “Five days?” he gasped. He had thought that the other man was talking about a time period that involved months at most or weeks at least.

Not days.

“5 days, 3 hours and 27 minutes and 33 seconds,” Rodney said looking at his watch.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.” Rodney waved at the bartender for the umpteenth time that night. It was getting to the point that the man was getting a hunted look on his face whenever he looked in the direction of the two men.

“And you‘ve tried everything you could think of?” Sheppard asked rubbing the side of his drink with a slow slide of his thumb.

Rodney jerked his eyes up from where he’d been looking at Sheppard’s fingers caress the beer. “Yes,” he said testily.

“Well, I can think of one thing you probably haven‘t tried yet.” Sheppard’s voice was inviting.

“Really, then please enlighten me.” Rodney waved his hands. “I‘ve tried everything but if you think you‘ve thought of something that three certified geniuses could not, please tell me.”

“Marry an American.”

Rodney‘s blue eye went wide. “What?!”

Sheppard smiled at him. “Don‘t you know? Any American citizen that marries a non-citizen can have him or her get a green card to then become a citizen. But I don’t really think you care about that part. It’s enough that if you get married you can‘t be kicked out of the country even if you don‘t want to be an American.”

Rodney looked back at the other man in complete shock. Then relief broke over his face like a wave. “YES! That‘s it! It‘s perfect.” He jumped to his feet. “I can‘t believe I didn’t think of it. It‘s so obvious.” Rodney gave Sheppard a brilliant smile that left the other man blinking. “That‘s exactly what I need to do.” Rodney spun around and ran out waving goodbye but not letting Sheppard have a chance to respond.

------------

“Oh, come on, Carson.”

“NO!”

“It‘s not like it would be a real marriage.”

Beckett gave Rodney a look of disbelief, “It would be a real marriage! Isnae that the point?”

“Carson,” whined Rodney.

“I cannae help you. Even if I wanted to marry you…” Carson paused, marveled at what had just come out of his mouth, then shuddered. “I cannae! I‘m nae a US citizen.”

“You‘re not?!”

“No!”

Rodney huffed and scowled at the doctor. “Why didn‘t you say so?! I‘ve been wasting the last hour on you when I could have been tracking someone else down.”

“I tried to tell you. But you wouldnae listen.” Exasperated, Carson rolled his eyes. God have mercy, with a friend like Rodney who needed enemies!

“Radek!” shouted Rodney, spotting his next victim enter the lab.

The Czech just jumped and held up a hand to try to cut off the Canadian before the man tried to steamroll him. “I‘m not citizen either, Rodney. I‘m here on same research visa as you.”

The rumors that McKay was storming around trying to get someone to marry him had sparked off practically from the second he had returned to the university. The warning was out and any singles, male or female, who had heard the message, had scrambled to find someone to hook up with. Some had even gone so far as to propose marriage to their newfound partner.

Rodney threw his hands up. “You‘re kidding me, right?!” A soft movement caught his eye. “Miko!

The small Japanese woman squeaked and tried to melt behind a set of testing equipment. She said shyly, “I‘m sorry, Dr. McKay, but I only have a green card.”

“This is an AMERICAN research lab!” yelled Rodney while waving his hands. “Are you telling me that there isn‘t one single unmarried American here?!”

“You could always ask Elizabeth,” murmured Carson. “I‘m sure she doesn‘t want you going back to Canada any more than you do.”

Rodney slumped, “She‘s the first person I asked.”

“You mean I wasnae the first.” Beckett’s mouth twitched. “I‘m hurt Rodney.”

“Oh, shut up.”

--------------------------

“You know, usually when you owe someone a beer, you don‘t leave them stuck with the tab. Especially since it was for saving you life,” a wry voice made Rodney look up from his absorption with what was on his lap top. It was John Sheppard, his arms crossed in front of him and that eyebrow arched up as if to say, ‘Be careful of what you say because I will get revenge with just one wrong word.’

“Oh, right,” Rodney said, as he waved his hand dismissively. “Your idea didn‘t work.”

“What idea?”

Rodney looked at him.

“Oh, that idea.” Sheppard looked at him with interest. “You mean you asked someone.”

Rodney sighed, “Yes. Several someones to be exact.”

Sheppard grinned. It was clear from Rodney‘s expression that he had failed. “How many?”

Rodney scowled at the other man and then looked down toward his screen. “278 different people. You would think at least one of them would be happy to marry a genius like me. I even tried setting up a website but I’m not counting the rejections I‘ve gotten through that.” Really, they were a little too many to deal with. If he had been a lesser man this could have seriously hurt his ego.

Sheppard made a strangled noise that sounded remarkably like his cat before a hairball made a disgusting appearance. It made Rodney shoot him a wary look. But all Sheppard did was turn a dark tomato red.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Oh, go ahead and laugh at my pain before you rupture something. I still only got 4 days to find a spouse.”

At this permission, Sheppard snickered desperately before bursting out into a full scale belly laugh. He clutched at the wall desperately before giving up and collapsing onto the floor.

Rodney ignored him for a minute hoping it was long enough for the other man to calm himself down. He typed up a quick email message and sent it to Zelenka. “Oh, get a grip.” Rodney growled as the pilot’s laughter failed to subside.

Rodney eyed the bronzed lemon on a stand that he used as a paperweight, and raged a fierce inner debate at whether or not to toss it at Sheppard’s screwed up hair. There was so much of the follicle mutated mess that the three pounds of Rodney’s immortalized enemy wouldn’t make too much of a dent.

Fortunately for Sheppard, he managed to get a himself to stop and picked himself up by the time Rodney had agreed with his evil side.

Reluctantly, Rodney put the paperweight down.

Still smiling hard enough to make Rodney wonder why his face wasn‘t splitting, Sheppard said, “That has got to be a record. 278 rejections in 24 hours.”

Sheppard shook his head in disbelief. Then shot Rodney a mischievous look, “And just think that you could have avoided all that if you had just stuck around last night.”

Rodney groaned. “And how exactly would staying in that bar have helped me?”

“Well,” Sheppard’s eyes grew heated. “I would have told you that I could marry you.”

Rodney gaped at him. Then he sputtered. “You- Marry--……Really?!”

“Yeah,” Sheppard grinned.

“YES!” Rodney grabbed him and then hauled them both out of his office at a run. “We have got to get the paperwork ready right now! I don‘t trust that government agency not to try something screwy and say that the papers didn‘t arrive on time.” Rodney quickly tried to go through a mental list of what they needed. City hall would have the judge, they could pick up rings at any jewelry store, and- And-

Fiancé in a tight grip where he couldn’t escape. And-

He was missing something.

Rodney was nearly out the door of the science building when it struck him.

“Witnesses!” he yelped. “We need witnesses.” His 180 degree turn had him plow straight into Sheppard who been desperately trying to keep up.

They went down in a tangle. Rodney would have landed on top if Sheppard hadn’t instinctively flipped them over so that he straddled Rodney’s hips. Rodney stared up at him with wide blue eyes.

Sheppard stilled and stared back with an intensity that made Rodney shiver.

An embarrassed cough made them both rise to their feet.

Miko eyes were wide and made Rodney feel incalculably embarrassed. And Sheppard ---damn him!---- didn’t look the least bit ruffled.

Rodney shook his head, grabbed Sheppard again and once again proceeded to drag him off.

“Wait!” Sheppard dug his heels in. “Where are we going?”

“We need witnesses.” Rodney said. “And it so happens that two of the few rare individuals I‘m willing to call friends work here. One’s in the genetics department and the other‘s in engineering.”

“Alright then,” Sheppard said amused. “But I can get there under my own power.”
-----------

“So,” Beckett eyed John. “You‘re the lad that saved Rodney from that bee the other day.”

“Yes.” John winced as Rodney took a too sharp turn that nearly tilted the car onto it’s two right tires.

“So you havenae known him for too long.” Carson’s voice grew dubious. As if he doubted the sanity of the words coming out of his mouth.

“That‘s right.” John agreed. He wondered idly if as his spouse he could get Rodney’s license suspended. They had probably just narrowly missed a fiery death more times in the last ten minutes than he had in the last ten years. And most of that time he’d been flying military missions!

“And you agreed to marry him when he asked? Just like that?” Carson’s voice was heavy with disbelief.

“You know, thinking back, I think I asked him.” John tightened his grip on the seat in front of him where Radek Zelenka’s cursing in Czech seemed to reach new and inspired levels of profanity. John agreed with the sentiment.

“Ya have my sympathizes lad.” Carson sighed sadly, “It‘s clear that there‘s no hope for you to recover from your mental illness.”

Zelenka stopped cursing long enough to twist back to look at Sheppard in the face and agree with Beckett. “It not too late you change mind. I hit Rodney? Make him stop car, yes? Give you time to escape?”

Sheppard eyebrows drew together at the concern on both men‘s faces. “Alright, now I‘m getting worried.”

Rodney snorted rudely, and growled. “Damn it, you two! Stop trying to scare him off.” He then proceeded to yank on the wheel sending the small car screeching to a halt between two trucks, in a parallel parking maneuver that would have sent stunt drivers into fits of envy, if any had been around to see it.

“Stay here. I‘ll be right back,” Rodney set to run off into the jewelry store. He paused and glared at his friends. “And enough with the sympathies. The man isn‘t dying!”

By the time John was able to convince his hands that - Yes, it was a good idea to let go of the door now! They weren’t going to die while parked- Rodney was already making his way out.

“Don’t let him drive!” John yelped, because if Rodney tried to drive again then he was running out the door for certain.

Zelenka was a step ahead of him and had already fitted himself into the driver’ side.

Rodney just glared and made Beckett join Zelenka up front. He no longer trusted either of them to not try to change Sheppard’s mind.

278 missed shots to just one - ONE - score in the net….and he probably needed to lay off the hockey metaphors.

He tapped a hand against the window glass, “Come on Radek. Faster! I know tortoises that can move faster than you can drive.”

“Calm down, Rodney.” Carson turned to look at him. “City hall will still be standing if it takes us just a few more minutes to get there.”

Rodney considered complaining but knowing Radek the Czech would take it as an excuse to go even slower in order to punish him. So instead he pulled out the jewelry box from his jacket pocket.

“Let me see,” Sheppard said, leaning against Rodney as he looked at the box in interest.

Rodney nodded and opened the box to reveal two golden bands. “I had to guess at your ring size so if it‘s too large we can come back tomorrow and get them resized.”

Sheppard nodded, “Sure.”

Rodney gave Sheppard a beaming smile. Yes! This was going to work!

--------------

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Rodney said as he tried to make himself presentable in his work clothes. The bathroom lights made him look washed out. ‘Was that a stain in his cuff? It looked like a stain. He couldn’t get married in a shirt that was stained!’

“Getting cold feet now, Rodney?” asked Carson in a very, very amused tone. “You‘re the one that was insisting we get here as soon as possible.”

Rodney twitched and then took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I have to be allowed legally in this country Carson. If I thought I could get away with being an illegal alien do you honestly think I would bother with this?”

“Yes, I know.” Carson rolled his eyes. “So you‘ve mentioned a million times that the only way that you can continue to get the government grants for your research is to be allowed here legally.”

“Yes! And the reviews are coming up in a just a few months.” Rodney considered straightening his hair but since his soon-to-be-husband didn’t seem to care about how his hair looked, Rodney decided that there was no point in messing with it.

“So why are you freaking out now?”

“It‘s just…!” Rodney flailed his left hand. “I asked over 200 people, all which told me no! Actually, they told me ‘Hell no!’and ‘Not if you were the last person on earth!’ -- in several languages might I add--- and I know the kind of reputation I have. I never ever expected to be married at my young age. I had it all planned out. First win the Nobel Prize for something brilliant and revolutionary, second became incredibly famous all over the world, then start sifting through my admirers to pick out some nice blonde with a healthy respect for physics to marry. Marriage was supposed to be the last part!”

Rodney paused, “Well, second to last. Having children to ensure that my genes get passed onto the next generation was actually the last thing.”

“Just tell yourself it‘s nae a real marriage,” Carson said calmly.

“It is a real marriage!” Rodney protested and looked at Carson as if he was crazy.

Carson crossed his arms. “Does nae what you told me.”

Rodney waved this away. “I was just saying that so you would agree.”

“Rodney,” sighed Carson. “If you donna want to do this just say so.”

Rodney opened his mouth to say exactly that when the door opened Sheppard’s disheveled head peek in.

“Ready?” Sheppard asked, that inviting heat was back in his hazel eyes.

Rodney shut his mouth with a small click and straightened up determinedly. “Yes.”

His nerve broke as they both walked up to the judge. “Okay, I just want to be certain. You‘re not doing this for some misguided reason like that saying that if you save a man‘s life he is your responsibility, forever are you?” Rodney clutched Sheppard’s arm.

The other man grinned at him. “You‘re asking now?”

“Well, it‘s better than asking after the fact, don‘t you think?!” Rodney hissed.

“No, I‘m not.” John tilted his head then nodded as if coming to a decision. He grabbed Rodney’s shoulders and kissed him.

Wet. Hot, hot, hot…..amazing….---Oh WOW, was that a tongue?--….gah.

Rodney didn’t even get the chance to reboot his melted brain and actually process what had happened before John stepped back. Dazed, all he could do was stand next to the man who promised to marry him and gape like an idiot.

“If I known kissing was all it took to shut up Rodney. I would have tried long ago,” Zelenka muttered behind them.

Carson elbowed him even though he had thought the exact same thing.

“I take it you gentlemen are ready.” Came the very amused tones of Judge Caldwell.

The next minutes were a blur to Rodney. He vague recalled signing the papers he needed to sign, and he definitely remembered Sheppard’s broad hand caressing his fingers before taking the pen from his lax grip. But it wasn’t until Sheppard put the ring on his finger that reality snapped back into focus with a nearly painful crack.

It took all of his concentration to keep his hands from trembling when he put the ring onto Shep--- no damnit! He couldn’t keep thinking him as Sheppard could he?--- onto John’s finger, because if he thought he was nervous before then he had no idea what to call the rising panic trying to claw it’s way up his throat.

“Congratulations,” Zelenka said cheerfully, clapping both of them on the back.

“Thanks,” John answered back, equally as cheerful. Rodney resisted the urge to strangle them both. Didn’t they have any idea to what had just happened?!

HE WAS MARRIED!

The edges of his vision started to go dark.

The last thing he remembered with any vividness was a pair of strong arms catching him and then all was black.

-----------------------

The familiar bitter sharp scent of smelling salts was the first sensation to register.

“Gah, no stop,” Rodney whimpered, trying to push the hand away.

“You know, you didn‘t really strike me as the fainting delicate flower type.”

Sheer outrage made Rodney’s eyes snap open, a decision he quickly regretted as the light of a nearby lamp lanced into his pupils. He hissed in pain and flung a hand across his eyes before protesting, “I did not faint! I passed out from low blood sugar!”

The low laugh made him squint past his hand shield to see John sprawled on a chair and grinning at him.

‘He even makes sitting look indecent!’ thought Rodney. The gleam of gold on the man’s finger brought everything back.

“I know I have an effect on people,” John’s smile was now smug, “But they don‘t usually faint on me.” Then his eyebrows gather closer, “No....wait, there was that one time where I got mistaken for a famous actor and the two groupies fainted when I waved at them.”

Rodney crossed his arms and stubbornly insisted, “It was low blood sugar. I have hypoglycemia.”

“Right, okay.” John nodded.

“I do!” Rodney protested.

“I believe you,” John waved the salts at him. “Carson told me all about it. Where do you think I got these?”

“Oh.” Rodney was nervous now that he had nothing to be indignant about. He looked around only to discover he was in a luxurious if a bit generic room. “Where am I?”

John‘s eyes brightened. “Well, your friends insisted that a proper honeymoon needed to be celebrated in a honeymoon suite. Their treat.”

“I‘m going to kill them,” Rodney groaned. “No, death is to good for them. I’ll make them suffer by using the most idiotic undergrads that flock to me as if I can somehow raise their IQ points just by my brilliant presence. They‘ll have to deal with them,” he huffed then thought furiously about the sort of revenge that would work best. Maybe he could inflict Kavanagh on them.

“You know,” John interrupted these various and vicious plans, “I never really thought being married would be so interesting.”

Rodney glanced at him, surprised. “You thought it would be boring? Then why did agree to this?”

“You‘re interesting.”

Rodney rolled his eyes.

John eyed him, “I really have no other way to explain it. You‘re very vivid.” His expression turned rueful. “I‘ve never met someone who is so open about their emotions.” He carded his fingers through his hair as he tried to put the effect that Rodney had on him into words. “Right from the moment I met you. You seemed very sincere.”

“I was about to die from a bee sting,” Rodney reminded him.

“Yeah, but you were very open about it,” John told him.

“I was trying to keep from screaming in fear,” Rodney grumbled.

“Are you hungry?” John shifted on the chair, “Carson said you would be. We can order room service now that you‘re awake.”

“I‘ll eat anything without citrus,” Rodney said, pushing himself to a sitting position.

“Stay here. I‘ll place the order,” John said. And strolled out of the bed room.

Rodney watched the closed door for a second then let the air whoosh out of his lungs in an explosive sigh. He rubbed his face with both hands, hoping to push away the lingering sense of exhaustion. He admitted to himself that he wasn’t too sure on how to treat John now, so he was going with his natural instincts, sarcastic and grumpy.

Growing up with his parents hadn’t exactly left him with the greatest impression of how married life was like. Another reason he planned on putting it off until later in life. But now he had a husband.

Bad points: One- He had a husband of convenience.

Two - Who he didn’t really know much about, other than he was a pilot and former military but was a nice enough guy to marry someone he didn‘t know to help him out of trouble.

Three---- and he really couldn’t think of a three.

Good points: One - John had asked him. Moment to gloat!

Two - He was really, really attractive. As in really, and the hair only added to it which went against the laws of nature.

Three - That kiss! What did it mean?! Did that mean the man wasn’t as straight as he had first thought? It that why he was no longer in the military? The US was rather backwards about that sort of thing.

Four - John Sheppard had saved his life. Which really, kind of overruled all the bad points right there.

Five - He could continue his research uninterrupted.

And really, that was what it came down to as the most important thing.

“Food‘s here,” John said as he pushed the door open. He backed up into the room, pulling the dining cart after him.

“Good. I‘m starving,” Rodney said, dismissing his misgivings as unimportant to the arrival of FOOD.
--------------------

It wasn’t until he was chasing the last bit of cream from his raspberry tart that Rodney finally decided that they better get a few things straight….err…so to speak, about their situation.

“So,” John said before he could open his mouth. “It‘s getting pretty late.” His hazel eyes lingered on Rodney’s face. “I guess it‘s time we go to bed.”

“Right.” Rodney gulped. I‘m no good at this interpersonal stuff.

John‘s eyes searched for something in Rodney‘s own, something that he apparently couldn‘t find because his shoulders slumped. “I guess I‘ll go sleep on the sofa. I‘ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.”

Rodney fidgeted as the other man left, then stared hard at his hands. Without John’s presence the room felt rather cold and lonely.

Am I actually going to spend my honeymoon like this?

He scrambled to his feet, rushed to the door, flung it open and nearly had a heart attack because John was standing just outside of it.

“Look,” John started to say when Rodney grabbed him and kissed him.

John let out a low hungry moan that made Rodney shiver in pleasure.

The pilot wrapped his arms around Rodney and stepped forward, moving them both back into the direction of the bed.

“I‘m not,” gasped Rodney. “Going to spend -- Oh, do that again!-- my honeymoon alone!”

John chuckled, which made Rodney retaliate with a fierce attack on the other man’s pants. “I didn‘t think you wanted this,” John admitted.

Rodney paused and looked into those hazel eyes that had made his heart leapt from the very first time he caught sight of them. He whispered, “I couldn‘t believe the fact that you actually did.”

“I do.” John’s hand tore Rodney’s shirt. “God, I do.”

Then, with a maneuver that he had to have picked up from his military training, John tripped Rodney up, stripped away the last of his own clothes and managed to get them both on the bed in one fell swoop, all while both men frantically kissed each other.

The molten gleam of lust in John’s eyes was the only warning Rodney had before the other man just took over.
-------------------

It wasn’t until John’s low rumbling snores had started that Rodney was jolted out of his blissed out haze. The other man’s arms were still wrapped tightly around his waist and Rodney couldn’t help but enjoy it.

His entire body was singing John’s praises.

This marriage was probably the best thing to happen to him in years.

He wiggled closer to his husband.

Now if only I can get a hold of a computer, life would be absolutely perfect.

-----------------------

Marriage was a paradox, in that it managed to be easier than Rodney thought it would be and also much harder, all at the same time.

Adjusting his life, and his home to fit another human being was fairly easy. Rodney got paid well enough that he had splurged on a rather big apartment and all of John’s stuff fit in with plenty of room for things that they both agreed to buy together and quickly became their stuff.

Even Rodney’s cat, Furball Birdkiller McKay the Third, took an active liking to John.

The only points of contest between them were from the hours that Rodney devoted to his research.

John gave him a leeway of ten hours of work before he would show up and drag Rodney away. Mostly because his own job rarely kept him any later than the standard 8 hours, and he grew bored without Rodney.

The Canadian had quickly learned that it was impossible to threaten someone who could promise you blowjobs with a smirk. The instant those lips twisted, all resistance melted right out of him.

His lab assistants learned not to snigger when this happened because Rodney was more than capable of making their lives a living hell for an entire week just for revenge for the smallest amused sound. It had been a rather painful time for them before they caught on.

On the bright side, his research seemed to take off with at a speed that left even Rodney feeling dizzy.

So when he hit a block that he could not get past, his frustration had made him unbearable to be around even for Beckett and Zelenka.

Only John withstood him.

“What exactly is the problem?” John asked. He had chosen to show up earlier than usual. Beckett had put in a frantic phone call to him. Everyone was hoping he could calm down his husband before the man killed someone.

The labs had long ago been abandoned by anyone with the slightest sense of self-preservation.

“If I knew what the problem was I would have fixed it!” snarled Rodney.

“Let me see.” John grabbed the laptop from Rodney, leaving the man sputtering. “Uh.”

Rodney crossed his arms. “If I can‘t find the problem, what makes you think you can?”

John ignored that. He said, “The math looks good.” He tilted his head as he looked at the wormhole representation model on the computer screen. “You know, I never did understand why space was always represented as a flat surface in these things.”

“That‘s because your brain can‘t possibl-” Rodney jerked to a stop and his blue eyes grew huge. An idea blazed across his mind like an asteroid burning up on the planet’s atmosphere. “YES! That‘s it!” he screamed happily.

He grabbed John’s shoulders, kissed him enthusiastically and then raced off. “Zelenka! Get your ass in here! John figured it out!”

John grinned and called after him, “You‘re welcome.”

Rodney quickly raced back and then hugged him so hard his ribs creaked. “I‘m going to get the Nobel Prize! And it‘s all because of you. I‘m going to name the travel theory the Sheppard Method.”

John’s eyes glowed. “You‘ll do that?” His smile grew broader. “I guess it must really be love.”

Rodney paused and then grabbed John’s hands in his own. He said fiercely, “Yes. It is.”

“Good,” John said. “Because it is for me too.”

The relieved smile on Rodney’s face was stunning. John basked in its glow. Rodney tugged them both out the lab, all the while babbling about going to other planets and all the things he wanted to show John.

John let himself be dragged along. He had known nearly from the first, life would with Rodney would never be dull.

“God!” Rodney burst into his own torrent of words. “I‘ll need to design some sort of space ship.” The Canadian looked at him. “How do you feel about testing some of the things Zelenka‘s team has been working on?”

“Just try and stop me!” John said.

Rodney nodded then sighed happily. “We‘re going to go to other worlds. And we‘ll be the first ones to set foot on alien planets.”

His expression turned speculative. “I‘m naming the first planet McKay World.”

John choked.

End