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sga_flashficJust squeaking this one in under the wire. The challenge hadn't closed yet when I started posting this...
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morena_donn
Title: Home is Where the Heart Is
Rating: PG
Length: 3854 words
Once again, huge thanks to my wonderful beta,brindel
Backcover blurb:
Home
For Rodney McKay, home is the humble farmhouses inhabited by his sister Jeannie and their friends and neighbors, the Becketts, a place best viewed with faint nostalgia, but from a distance. Married to his work, Rodney has no need for people, and hasn't been home in years.
For John Sheppard, home is his father's mansion, full of creature comforts but devoid of companionship, with the exception of his faithful personal assistant, Aiden Ford. It is a place John can't wait to escape.
When their paths cross, Aiden and Carson Beckett realize that love makes a home. Can Rodney and John make the same discovery?
Find the answer in
Prologue:
The Becketts and McKays had farmed side by side for nearly a century: three generations of boisterous families, of strapping lads and sturdy maidens, all dwindled down to Jeannie McKay and timid Carson Beckett, the boy next door. "A sweet lad, to be sure, and a deft hand wi' the kai, but no' much good for aught else." Granny McKay's voice rang in Jeannie's memory. And now that he'd lost his mum...
There was nothing for it but to call Rodney. Mr. Superior Intellect himself, who'd made it clear long ago that science was his one true love and people mere annoyances. He would not be pleased to hear from her, but she needed his genius - and he *was* her brother.
Chapter One
Rodney McKay was in the midst of a complex calculation when the phone rang. "I need you to come home." his sister Jeannie stated without preamble.
"What, now? I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. We're talking Nobel Prize here. Whatever prompted you to call me can't possibly be as important as what I'm doing. I'll call you back in - oh, say three days?"
Jeannie rolled her eyes. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. "No, Rodney, I need you now. Mrs. Beckett died last night."
The fight went out of Rodney. "Carson?" he asked with a gentleness that would have surprised his colleagues.
"Is a mess." Jeannie said softly, glancing over at her neighbor, who had cried himself to sleep on her sofa. "And the timing couldn't be worse. I didn't want to bother you," she said, and Rodney winced at the bitterness in her voice, "but Mr. Cowen from the bank has been sniffing around. Rodney, I'm afraid we're going to lose the farms, and..." His no nonsense sister trailed off, sounding lost.
"And that would kill Carson." Rodney finished for her. He looked forlornly around his lab. The Nobel Prize would have to wait. "Right. I’m coming home."
Chapter Two
John Sheppard had had it. By the terms of his father's will, he had to be married before he could access the bulk of his inheritance, but if he had to sit through one more endless date with one more simpering golddigger, he was going to scream. In fact, he might scream now, just on general principles. Tonight's date differed from last nights date only in the little matter of gender. Or wait, John was fairly certain last night's date had been a woman as well - the unnaturally attractive, insipidly plastic man had been his date three nights ago.
It was all becoming a big blur, and John heroically resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. That would be a Bad Idea. Not because it was socially unacceptable - given the size of his father’s estate, nothing John did was socially unacceptable. No, banging his head on the table was a Bad Idea because he'd probably spill the horrendously expensive wine all over the Damask table cloth. Or worse, on his date, who would use it as an excuse to disrobe.
John hid a yawn and signaled his personal assistant, discreetly placed across the room for just such an emergency. A moment later, Aiden Ford appeared at his elbow, brandishing John’s cell phone.
"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Mr. Caldwell says it's urgent."
John tried his best to hide his relief. "I'm sorry, Tifani, but I'm going to have to take this. Ford here will take care of you." Which was perhaps not the best choice of words, he reflected, as his date turned her predatory gaze on the younger man.
"Don't worry, ma'am, I'll see you safely home." Ford bravely took his employer's seat and began making small talk. John gratefully escaped, making a mental note to give the man a raise, and wishing, not for the first time, that he could just marry Ford and be done with it. But that would be like marrying his kid brother - just plain wrong. There were some things you simply didn't do, even for millions of dollars.
"In fact, I don't give a damn about the will, I can't do this anymore." he said to the empty air as he entered his house. A short while later, he realized didn't have to. It wasn't like he needed his father's money to survive. He could always take the much smaller inheritance from his maternal grandmother, and leave the rest. He'd roam the country for a while, making his own way.
He might even return someday to claim his inheritance: he had a year to get married before the estate went to a distant cousin. John was enough of a romantic to hope that, somewhere on his travels, he would meet a man or woman who would love him for himself, not his bank account. And once that happened....well, there were some benefits to being rich.
Muscles John hadn't even realized were tense relaxed as he came to the decision. It would be wonderful. No more fawning subordinates, no more saccharine would-be spouses, just him and...Oh. Just him. The inheritance from Grandma Fetterly would only stretch so far. He could keep himself fed and sheltered for months if need be, but he couldn't pay Ford's salary. He'd have to let his PA go. He'd miss him terribly, but he had no choice. He had to get out of here, before he went crazy.
Chapter Three
John had never been one to delay once he came to a decision. When Ford finally returned after finishing John's date, John was sitting on the couch, bags packed and envelope in hand. He stood, and pressed the envelope into Ford's hand.
"Sir?"
"Just open it" Ford did as instructed, eyes widening as he took in the size of the severance check John had written. And then he read the letter of recommendation.
"Sir, I don't understand."
John saw a flash of pain on Ford's face before he schooled it to a carefully blank expression. "I'm running away from home" John said, gesturing at the bags. "and much as I'd like to take you with me, I can't pay you."
"Uh huh. Then what's this?" Ford angrily waved the check in John's face. Damn. This wasn't going as planned.
"I, um, I'm giving you the last of my monthly allowance, to make up for the short notice, and with that letter, you should be able to get another job easily enough. You'll be fine" John assured Ford, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, well maybe I don't want to be fine. Don't take this the wrong way, but maybe I want to be with you." he shoved the envelope back at John. "It's nice to know I'm 'an exemplarary employee' he quoted bitterly, "but I thought I was more. I thought we were friends."
"We are. I'll miss you too, but you don't get it. I'm leaving all this. I can't...I can't pretend anymore. And homeless men don't have PA's. Take the damn letter and find a new job."
"I don't want to break in another boss, sir." Ford told him stubbornly. "Do you have any idea what jerks most rich guys are? And you don't have to pay me. As long as we have food and shelter, I'm good."
"But..." It would have been easier to argue, if the idea of facing the wide world with a friend by his side wasn't so appealing. John shrugged. "Suit yourself." He pulled an atlas off the shelf and considered it for a moment, before reaching into his pocket for a coin. "Heads we go north, Tails, south."
Ford set the check on the table by the atlas, and tore the letter into tiny shreds.
Chapter Four
Rodney arrived to an empty house. He set his bags in his old room, and wandered over to the Becketts, where Jeannie answered his knock. He glanced automatically towards the kitchen, half expecting Mrs. Beckett to come bustling out, bearing food and murmuring in the Gaelic she insisted her family use around the house. He couldn't believe he'd never see her again, and could only imagine what poor Carson was feeling. Which lead him to wonder...
"He's upstairs" Jeannie said, seeming to read his mind as she had when they were younger, before he'd disappeared into the world of science.
"Right, I'll just..." He wasn't sure what he could say or do. People were not his specialty, but Carson had been his best friend, once upon a time, and he still had a soft spot for the man. He had to try to help, somehow. He headed upstairs, where he found Carson seated on his bed.
Unable to bear the naked sorrow on his friend's face, Rodney wandered about the room, coming to a stop before a bookshelf crammed with medical journals. "You know, I always wondered why you didn't just go to med school" he remarked "It would have been a waste of your intelligence, of course, but not such a waste as staying here and playing farmer."
"I stayed home because unlike some people, I ken when and where I'm needed, and I hae the decency to be there!" Carson snapped, anger deepening the brogue that resulted from having Gaelic as his first language.
Rodney looked as though he'd been slapped, but recovered quickly. "I'm here now." he said quietly, sitting beside Carson and opening his arms. Carson hesitated briefly, then collapsed against him. A few moments later, he sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face.
"Thanks, I needed that."
"The hug, or the yelling?" Rodney asked wryly.
"Both, I think. 'Tis good to have ye back."
"It's good to be back." Rodney responded, surprised to realize that he meant it.
Chapter Five
John and Aiden slipped easily from employer/employee to friends, equals in virtually everything, although John chose the direction they went as they traveled from place to place, always seeking something over the next hill.
One morning, they stopped to stretch their legs, and found themselves looking down at three figures toiling in a small field. A woman was in the lead, the set of her shoulders showing grim determination, her movements both confident and competent. She was trailed by two men, one moving a bit more slowly, but surely enough: the other obviously a stranger to physical labor. As the travelers watched, the greenhorn stopped, clutched his hand and began cursing inventively. His voice echoed up the valley, and John and Aiden heard every word.
"Carson! I need you. I think I'm bleeding to death!"
John was fairly certain the man was exaggerating: apparently "Carson" was too, as he didn't pause in his work." In a minute, Rodney. Put some pressure on it, and I'll be there when I finish here."
"Rodney" was not pleased. "Now, Carson! Dying, here."
"Fine." Carson stalked over. "Gie me your hand, you big baby. Honestly..." He was clearly annoyed, but the hands that reached for Rodney's were gentle and sure. John heard Aiden sigh beside him. He glanced over, suppressing a grin at the besotted look on his friend's face.
"You’re drooling" John said mildly.
Aiden put a hand to his mouth. He was not! "That's not nice, sir." he admonished.
"Sorry." John murmured. "And for the last time, knock off the sir. I’m not your boss anymore."
Aiden started to answer, but John held up a hand for silence. He watched the figures moving across the field, judging their speed and calculating the time it would take to finish, before glancing over his shoulder at the clouds rolling in from the west. "They’re not gonna make it. I think we should give them a hand."
Chapter Six
"You’re doing that all wrong." Rodney startled and glanced up at the speaker, whose smirk absolutely was not making his toes curl. He'd long since come to conclusion that people just weren't worth the effort, and if he ever did seek a mate, he'd be looking for intelligence, not physical beauty. However, despite the comments of his colleges, he was only human, and he did have eyes, and a body which occasionally had a mind of its own. This seemed to be one of those times.
Rodney tore his gaze from the attractive smirk, and saw that the man's companion was making eyes at Carson. He puffed up with righteous indignation, ready to defend his friend's virtue - and realized that Carson was making eyes right back, showing some animation for the first time since his mother had died. Given Carson's positive reaction, Rodney decided to let the young man's impertinence slide.
Rodney had to admit that the smooth brown skin, velvet-dark eyes and open smile were quite attractive, if you liked that sort of thing. Personally, Rodney preferred smiles with a bit of an edge, and hazel eyes that danced with mischief. And oh god, he was describing the smirker as if the man were the lead in some cheesy romance novel. Next thing you knew, he'd be waxing lyrical about the man's oddly attractive pointy ears, or the way a dark tuft of chest hair curled softly over...Rodney gave himself a mental shake, and tuned in in the middle of sentence.
"... racing the clouds and losing. We could help you out." John offered.
"That would be lovely." Carson’s face lit, then fell, as reality struck "I'm afraid we can't pay you." he told them regretfully.
Aiden smiled. "No problem. If you'd put us up for the night, that would be fine."
"Carson, this is a Bad Idea. We don't know them from Adam. For all we know, they could be con artists, or, or, escaped murderers."
"Oh, I highly doubt it. And that storm's movin' in fast. We'll no finish wi'out help. Relax, man." Carson clapped Rodney on the back and led Aiden off to the barn to fetch more tools, leaving John and Rodney staring daggers at each other.
The impasse was broken when Jeannie screamed in pain. Rodney raced to her side, and found her hoping on one foot, cursing the harvester. "Damn thing's broken again."
Rodney shook his head "And you thought you could fix it with a well aimed kick?" he asked his sister, who shrugged ruefully.
"It was worth a try," she said, "but you might have better luck."
"I could hardly have worse" he replied derisively, but waited until he'd seen her place full weight on her injured foot before turning to see what he could do.
John watched in fascination as Rodney's broad, capable fingers danced over the machinery, and wondered how they'd feel moving over his own sensitive skin. And where had that thought come from? The man was prickly and paranoid, his hairline was receding, and his mouth slanted disconcertingly. Not to mention a certain softness around the middle. It didn't require the vague sense of clumsiness to tell John that Rodney was a stranger to physical labor. There was absolutely no reason for John to find him attractive - except for the fact that Rodney seemed impervious to John's charm, something that John found both refreshing and challenging.
As the day wore on, John found he couldn't help but watch Rodney struggle to do his share of the work. The man was obviously doing his best in a bad situation, and John found himself admiring his determination. John knew he was in trouble when he found himself thinking of the stubborn tilt of the other man's chin as 'cute' .
Chapter Seven
Working together, the five of them had the last of the crops in when the skies opened up. By the time they reached the closer of the two farmhouses, they were drenched. Sodden clothes clung to John's lean body like a second skin, and Rodney found he was having trouble breathing. He sternly told himself that he was no giggling schoolgirl, to have his head turned by a sculpted chest, and tried to get their guests settled in the barn, where they wouldn't provide temptation, but Carson and Jeannie would have none of it. They also refused to send the men off into the following morning's gentle rain.
"I don't see why not." Rodney said. "We already know they won't melt, and they've obviously been living rough." He had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out and touching the stubble on John's jaw as he said that, and it made him all the more determined to get rid of them before he lost all control over his traitorous body. He glanced over at the stove, where Ford was helping himself to thirds. "Not to mention the way they're going to eat us out of house and home."
John raised an eyebrow and stared meaningfully at Rodney's very full plate.
"I live here" he said defensively.
"Actually, Rodney, you don't." Jeannie broke in. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you deigned to come back, but you made it quite clear that you'll be leaving once the crisis is adverted."
"Probably." Rodney admitted, feeling a twinge of regret at the idea of leaving the farm, which was odd given how desperately he'd wanted to escape the place when he was younger.
John found himself hoping that Rodney would stay, and wondered why it mattered, as he himself would be gone any day now. Only somehow he wasn't. McKay was right, he and Ford wouldn't melt, but John still put off leaving. Aiden, busy courting Beckett, didn't object and John tried to tell himself that he was staying for the sake of his friend. He even believed it, during the day, but at night, his dreams were full of a slanting mouth and bright blue eyes, and John knew the real reason he was willing to stay.
Chapter Eight
John and Aiden made themselves useful: by the time the weather cleared, Jeannie couldn't imagine managing the farms without them. Their strong backs were welcome, of course, but it was Aiden's determination to draw Carson out of his grief that won Jeannie's eternal gratitude. When she found John outside, staring sadly up into a cloudless sky, she caught his arm and begged him to stay. She didn't have to ask twice. Sheppard went to tell Ford, while Jeannie broke the news to her men. Carson was delighted, and Rodney protested, but Jeannie could tell his heart wasn't in it, and ignored him.
That evening, Sheppard and the McKays sat at the dining room table sipping wine and watching Aiden and Carson as they sat by the fire. Carson was apparently telling the younger man a story. He gestured broadly, and his words took on a soothing rhythm. Suddenly, his voice broke. Aiden reached out and gently touched his cheek, and Carson covered the other man's hand with his own. Rodney and Jeannie exchanged pleased glances, and nothing further was said about Sheppard and Ford leaving.
In the days that followed, Rodney and John bickered constantly, trading insults over the slightest disagreement, but Jeannie suspected they were enjoying it. Jeannie certainly enjoyed watching her normally detached brother interact with another human being, besides herself and Carson. She was actually feeling something akin to contentment when Mr. Cowen from the bank dropped by.
"I hate to do this to you Mr. and Ms. McKay, Mr. Beckett, but we here at Genii Bank have been more than patient with your tardy mortgage payments. These are the foreclosure papers." he said, brandishing the thick sheaf with an enthusiasm that said he was anything but sorry. "They'll be filed first thing tomorrow morning, unless you can make a payment by closing tonight."
Carson paled. Aiden pulled him close. "Shh, it'll be alright." he murmured against the soft brown hair. "Sir?" He turned to John with pleading eyes, silently begging him to fix it.
John sighed heavily and reached for his checkbook. He'd wanted to win Rodney's affection before revealing himself as the multi-millionaire he had been, and could be again with the right man's love, but it looked like there was no choice. He hastily calculated his remaining funds, and scribbled a check for half the amount. "This should hold you for a while." he said, handing it to the banker.
Cowen's eyes widened as he read the name on the check, and he positively glowed with greed when he saw the amount. Then he remembered the terms of the loan. "I can't take this." he said, hand shaking as he handed the check back to John. "Our contract specifically states that payment must come from within the families. Unless of course, you have a bill of sale for one or both of the properties?" he concluded hopefully.
"Nope" John replied cheerfully, "and I'm not going to need one. Give me a month and I’ll have a marriage certificate for you."
Rodney rolled his eyes. The man was insufferable. Did he really think that Jeannie would marry for money? Sure, John was beautiful, but beauty wasn't everythi… Rodney's train of thought derailed abruptly when that beautiful mouth claimed his in a kiss that reduced Rodney’s formidable intellect to disjointed pleas of yes, and please, and more.
They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart. "What do you say, McKay, marry me?" John asked, with no trace of the vague sense of amusement that underscored nearly everything he said or did.
Rodney wanted to say something clever about how he was married to his work, but the capacity for speech seemed to have fled south, along with every blood cell in his body. His hands moved of their own volition - one reaching out to cup John's face, thumb stroking gently over the lightly stubbled jaw, the other coming to rest in small of the muscled back, drawing him in for another achingly hot kiss.
"I'll take that as a yes." John said dazedly when they broke apart for the second time.
Epilogue
One month later, Aiden and John stood side by side, watching with gleaming eyes as Jeannie strode solemnly down the aisle, Carson's arm tucked through the crook of one elbow, Rodney's through the other.
Five hours later Jeannie was back home, sitting on the porch watching the sun set by herself. She knew she should be happy for her brother and her friends, but she couldn't help but feel a little lonely.
A shadow fell on the porch steps. Jeannie looked up... and up, into a serious face framed in a short dark beard. "Nice spread. You here alone?"
She should have been frightened. The man was imposing by size alone, and his dreads lent a feel of barely contained wildness. Not to mention the odd finger bone he wore on a cord around his neck. But Jeannie McKay didn’t frighten easily. She looked deeply into the stranger's eyes, and saw strength and compassion, and just a hint of loneliness.
"For the moment, yes." she answered without hesitation. "And I could use a hand. You want a job?"
"I'll think about it." the stranger rumbled, and Jeannie smiled. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be lonely for long.
Author:
morena_donnTitle: Home is Where the Heart Is
Rating: PG
Length: 3854 words
Once again, huge thanks to my wonderful beta,
brindelBackcover blurb:
Home
For Rodney McKay, home is the humble farmhouses inhabited by his sister Jeannie and their friends and neighbors, the Becketts, a place best viewed with faint nostalgia, but from a distance. Married to his work, Rodney has no need for people, and hasn't been home in years.
For John Sheppard, home is his father's mansion, full of creature comforts but devoid of companionship, with the exception of his faithful personal assistant, Aiden Ford. It is a place John can't wait to escape.
When their paths cross, Aiden and Carson Beckett realize that love makes a home. Can Rodney and John make the same discovery?
Find the answer in
Prologue:
The Becketts and McKays had farmed side by side for nearly a century: three generations of boisterous families, of strapping lads and sturdy maidens, all dwindled down to Jeannie McKay and timid Carson Beckett, the boy next door. "A sweet lad, to be sure, and a deft hand wi' the kai, but no' much good for aught else." Granny McKay's voice rang in Jeannie's memory. And now that he'd lost his mum...
There was nothing for it but to call Rodney. Mr. Superior Intellect himself, who'd made it clear long ago that science was his one true love and people mere annoyances. He would not be pleased to hear from her, but she needed his genius - and he *was* her brother.
Chapter One
Rodney McKay was in the midst of a complex calculation when the phone rang. "I need you to come home." his sister Jeannie stated without preamble.
"What, now? I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. We're talking Nobel Prize here. Whatever prompted you to call me can't possibly be as important as what I'm doing. I'll call you back in - oh, say three days?"
Jeannie rolled her eyes. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. "No, Rodney, I need you now. Mrs. Beckett died last night."
The fight went out of Rodney. "Carson?" he asked with a gentleness that would have surprised his colleagues.
"Is a mess." Jeannie said softly, glancing over at her neighbor, who had cried himself to sleep on her sofa. "And the timing couldn't be worse. I didn't want to bother you," she said, and Rodney winced at the bitterness in her voice, "but Mr. Cowen from the bank has been sniffing around. Rodney, I'm afraid we're going to lose the farms, and..." His no nonsense sister trailed off, sounding lost.
"And that would kill Carson." Rodney finished for her. He looked forlornly around his lab. The Nobel Prize would have to wait. "Right. I’m coming home."
Chapter Two
John Sheppard had had it. By the terms of his father's will, he had to be married before he could access the bulk of his inheritance, but if he had to sit through one more endless date with one more simpering golddigger, he was going to scream. In fact, he might scream now, just on general principles. Tonight's date differed from last nights date only in the little matter of gender. Or wait, John was fairly certain last night's date had been a woman as well - the unnaturally attractive, insipidly plastic man had been his date three nights ago.
It was all becoming a big blur, and John heroically resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. That would be a Bad Idea. Not because it was socially unacceptable - given the size of his father’s estate, nothing John did was socially unacceptable. No, banging his head on the table was a Bad Idea because he'd probably spill the horrendously expensive wine all over the Damask table cloth. Or worse, on his date, who would use it as an excuse to disrobe.
John hid a yawn and signaled his personal assistant, discreetly placed across the room for just such an emergency. A moment later, Aiden Ford appeared at his elbow, brandishing John’s cell phone.
"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Mr. Caldwell says it's urgent."
John tried his best to hide his relief. "I'm sorry, Tifani, but I'm going to have to take this. Ford here will take care of you." Which was perhaps not the best choice of words, he reflected, as his date turned her predatory gaze on the younger man.
"Don't worry, ma'am, I'll see you safely home." Ford bravely took his employer's seat and began making small talk. John gratefully escaped, making a mental note to give the man a raise, and wishing, not for the first time, that he could just marry Ford and be done with it. But that would be like marrying his kid brother - just plain wrong. There were some things you simply didn't do, even for millions of dollars.
"In fact, I don't give a damn about the will, I can't do this anymore." he said to the empty air as he entered his house. A short while later, he realized didn't have to. It wasn't like he needed his father's money to survive. He could always take the much smaller inheritance from his maternal grandmother, and leave the rest. He'd roam the country for a while, making his own way.
He might even return someday to claim his inheritance: he had a year to get married before the estate went to a distant cousin. John was enough of a romantic to hope that, somewhere on his travels, he would meet a man or woman who would love him for himself, not his bank account. And once that happened....well, there were some benefits to being rich.
Muscles John hadn't even realized were tense relaxed as he came to the decision. It would be wonderful. No more fawning subordinates, no more saccharine would-be spouses, just him and...Oh. Just him. The inheritance from Grandma Fetterly would only stretch so far. He could keep himself fed and sheltered for months if need be, but he couldn't pay Ford's salary. He'd have to let his PA go. He'd miss him terribly, but he had no choice. He had to get out of here, before he went crazy.
Chapter Three
John had never been one to delay once he came to a decision. When Ford finally returned after finishing John's date, John was sitting on the couch, bags packed and envelope in hand. He stood, and pressed the envelope into Ford's hand.
"Sir?"
"Just open it" Ford did as instructed, eyes widening as he took in the size of the severance check John had written. And then he read the letter of recommendation.
"Sir, I don't understand."
John saw a flash of pain on Ford's face before he schooled it to a carefully blank expression. "I'm running away from home" John said, gesturing at the bags. "and much as I'd like to take you with me, I can't pay you."
"Uh huh. Then what's this?" Ford angrily waved the check in John's face. Damn. This wasn't going as planned.
"I, um, I'm giving you the last of my monthly allowance, to make up for the short notice, and with that letter, you should be able to get another job easily enough. You'll be fine" John assured Ford, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, well maybe I don't want to be fine. Don't take this the wrong way, but maybe I want to be with you." he shoved the envelope back at John. "It's nice to know I'm 'an exemplarary employee' he quoted bitterly, "but I thought I was more. I thought we were friends."
"We are. I'll miss you too, but you don't get it. I'm leaving all this. I can't...I can't pretend anymore. And homeless men don't have PA's. Take the damn letter and find a new job."
"I don't want to break in another boss, sir." Ford told him stubbornly. "Do you have any idea what jerks most rich guys are? And you don't have to pay me. As long as we have food and shelter, I'm good."
"But..." It would have been easier to argue, if the idea of facing the wide world with a friend by his side wasn't so appealing. John shrugged. "Suit yourself." He pulled an atlas off the shelf and considered it for a moment, before reaching into his pocket for a coin. "Heads we go north, Tails, south."
Ford set the check on the table by the atlas, and tore the letter into tiny shreds.
Chapter Four
Rodney arrived to an empty house. He set his bags in his old room, and wandered over to the Becketts, where Jeannie answered his knock. He glanced automatically towards the kitchen, half expecting Mrs. Beckett to come bustling out, bearing food and murmuring in the Gaelic she insisted her family use around the house. He couldn't believe he'd never see her again, and could only imagine what poor Carson was feeling. Which lead him to wonder...
"He's upstairs" Jeannie said, seeming to read his mind as she had when they were younger, before he'd disappeared into the world of science.
"Right, I'll just..." He wasn't sure what he could say or do. People were not his specialty, but Carson had been his best friend, once upon a time, and he still had a soft spot for the man. He had to try to help, somehow. He headed upstairs, where he found Carson seated on his bed.
Unable to bear the naked sorrow on his friend's face, Rodney wandered about the room, coming to a stop before a bookshelf crammed with medical journals. "You know, I always wondered why you didn't just go to med school" he remarked "It would have been a waste of your intelligence, of course, but not such a waste as staying here and playing farmer."
"I stayed home because unlike some people, I ken when and where I'm needed, and I hae the decency to be there!" Carson snapped, anger deepening the brogue that resulted from having Gaelic as his first language.
Rodney looked as though he'd been slapped, but recovered quickly. "I'm here now." he said quietly, sitting beside Carson and opening his arms. Carson hesitated briefly, then collapsed against him. A few moments later, he sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face.
"Thanks, I needed that."
"The hug, or the yelling?" Rodney asked wryly.
"Both, I think. 'Tis good to have ye back."
"It's good to be back." Rodney responded, surprised to realize that he meant it.
Chapter Five
John and Aiden slipped easily from employer/employee to friends, equals in virtually everything, although John chose the direction they went as they traveled from place to place, always seeking something over the next hill.
One morning, they stopped to stretch their legs, and found themselves looking down at three figures toiling in a small field. A woman was in the lead, the set of her shoulders showing grim determination, her movements both confident and competent. She was trailed by two men, one moving a bit more slowly, but surely enough: the other obviously a stranger to physical labor. As the travelers watched, the greenhorn stopped, clutched his hand and began cursing inventively. His voice echoed up the valley, and John and Aiden heard every word.
"Carson! I need you. I think I'm bleeding to death!"
John was fairly certain the man was exaggerating: apparently "Carson" was too, as he didn't pause in his work." In a minute, Rodney. Put some pressure on it, and I'll be there when I finish here."
"Rodney" was not pleased. "Now, Carson! Dying, here."
"Fine." Carson stalked over. "Gie me your hand, you big baby. Honestly..." He was clearly annoyed, but the hands that reached for Rodney's were gentle and sure. John heard Aiden sigh beside him. He glanced over, suppressing a grin at the besotted look on his friend's face.
"You’re drooling" John said mildly.
Aiden put a hand to his mouth. He was not! "That's not nice, sir." he admonished.
"Sorry." John murmured. "And for the last time, knock off the sir. I’m not your boss anymore."
Aiden started to answer, but John held up a hand for silence. He watched the figures moving across the field, judging their speed and calculating the time it would take to finish, before glancing over his shoulder at the clouds rolling in from the west. "They’re not gonna make it. I think we should give them a hand."
Chapter Six
"You’re doing that all wrong." Rodney startled and glanced up at the speaker, whose smirk absolutely was not making his toes curl. He'd long since come to conclusion that people just weren't worth the effort, and if he ever did seek a mate, he'd be looking for intelligence, not physical beauty. However, despite the comments of his colleges, he was only human, and he did have eyes, and a body which occasionally had a mind of its own. This seemed to be one of those times.
Rodney tore his gaze from the attractive smirk, and saw that the man's companion was making eyes at Carson. He puffed up with righteous indignation, ready to defend his friend's virtue - and realized that Carson was making eyes right back, showing some animation for the first time since his mother had died. Given Carson's positive reaction, Rodney decided to let the young man's impertinence slide.
Rodney had to admit that the smooth brown skin, velvet-dark eyes and open smile were quite attractive, if you liked that sort of thing. Personally, Rodney preferred smiles with a bit of an edge, and hazel eyes that danced with mischief. And oh god, he was describing the smirker as if the man were the lead in some cheesy romance novel. Next thing you knew, he'd be waxing lyrical about the man's oddly attractive pointy ears, or the way a dark tuft of chest hair curled softly over...Rodney gave himself a mental shake, and tuned in in the middle of sentence.
"... racing the clouds and losing. We could help you out." John offered.
"That would be lovely." Carson’s face lit, then fell, as reality struck "I'm afraid we can't pay you." he told them regretfully.
Aiden smiled. "No problem. If you'd put us up for the night, that would be fine."
"Carson, this is a Bad Idea. We don't know them from Adam. For all we know, they could be con artists, or, or, escaped murderers."
"Oh, I highly doubt it. And that storm's movin' in fast. We'll no finish wi'out help. Relax, man." Carson clapped Rodney on the back and led Aiden off to the barn to fetch more tools, leaving John and Rodney staring daggers at each other.
The impasse was broken when Jeannie screamed in pain. Rodney raced to her side, and found her hoping on one foot, cursing the harvester. "Damn thing's broken again."
Rodney shook his head "And you thought you could fix it with a well aimed kick?" he asked his sister, who shrugged ruefully.
"It was worth a try," she said, "but you might have better luck."
"I could hardly have worse" he replied derisively, but waited until he'd seen her place full weight on her injured foot before turning to see what he could do.
John watched in fascination as Rodney's broad, capable fingers danced over the machinery, and wondered how they'd feel moving over his own sensitive skin. And where had that thought come from? The man was prickly and paranoid, his hairline was receding, and his mouth slanted disconcertingly. Not to mention a certain softness around the middle. It didn't require the vague sense of clumsiness to tell John that Rodney was a stranger to physical labor. There was absolutely no reason for John to find him attractive - except for the fact that Rodney seemed impervious to John's charm, something that John found both refreshing and challenging.
As the day wore on, John found he couldn't help but watch Rodney struggle to do his share of the work. The man was obviously doing his best in a bad situation, and John found himself admiring his determination. John knew he was in trouble when he found himself thinking of the stubborn tilt of the other man's chin as 'cute' .
Chapter Seven
Working together, the five of them had the last of the crops in when the skies opened up. By the time they reached the closer of the two farmhouses, they were drenched. Sodden clothes clung to John's lean body like a second skin, and Rodney found he was having trouble breathing. He sternly told himself that he was no giggling schoolgirl, to have his head turned by a sculpted chest, and tried to get their guests settled in the barn, where they wouldn't provide temptation, but Carson and Jeannie would have none of it. They also refused to send the men off into the following morning's gentle rain.
"I don't see why not." Rodney said. "We already know they won't melt, and they've obviously been living rough." He had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out and touching the stubble on John's jaw as he said that, and it made him all the more determined to get rid of them before he lost all control over his traitorous body. He glanced over at the stove, where Ford was helping himself to thirds. "Not to mention the way they're going to eat us out of house and home."
John raised an eyebrow and stared meaningfully at Rodney's very full plate.
"I live here" he said defensively.
"Actually, Rodney, you don't." Jeannie broke in. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you deigned to come back, but you made it quite clear that you'll be leaving once the crisis is adverted."
"Probably." Rodney admitted, feeling a twinge of regret at the idea of leaving the farm, which was odd given how desperately he'd wanted to escape the place when he was younger.
John found himself hoping that Rodney would stay, and wondered why it mattered, as he himself would be gone any day now. Only somehow he wasn't. McKay was right, he and Ford wouldn't melt, but John still put off leaving. Aiden, busy courting Beckett, didn't object and John tried to tell himself that he was staying for the sake of his friend. He even believed it, during the day, but at night, his dreams were full of a slanting mouth and bright blue eyes, and John knew the real reason he was willing to stay.
Chapter Eight
John and Aiden made themselves useful: by the time the weather cleared, Jeannie couldn't imagine managing the farms without them. Their strong backs were welcome, of course, but it was Aiden's determination to draw Carson out of his grief that won Jeannie's eternal gratitude. When she found John outside, staring sadly up into a cloudless sky, she caught his arm and begged him to stay. She didn't have to ask twice. Sheppard went to tell Ford, while Jeannie broke the news to her men. Carson was delighted, and Rodney protested, but Jeannie could tell his heart wasn't in it, and ignored him.
That evening, Sheppard and the McKays sat at the dining room table sipping wine and watching Aiden and Carson as they sat by the fire. Carson was apparently telling the younger man a story. He gestured broadly, and his words took on a soothing rhythm. Suddenly, his voice broke. Aiden reached out and gently touched his cheek, and Carson covered the other man's hand with his own. Rodney and Jeannie exchanged pleased glances, and nothing further was said about Sheppard and Ford leaving.
In the days that followed, Rodney and John bickered constantly, trading insults over the slightest disagreement, but Jeannie suspected they were enjoying it. Jeannie certainly enjoyed watching her normally detached brother interact with another human being, besides herself and Carson. She was actually feeling something akin to contentment when Mr. Cowen from the bank dropped by.
"I hate to do this to you Mr. and Ms. McKay, Mr. Beckett, but we here at Genii Bank have been more than patient with your tardy mortgage payments. These are the foreclosure papers." he said, brandishing the thick sheaf with an enthusiasm that said he was anything but sorry. "They'll be filed first thing tomorrow morning, unless you can make a payment by closing tonight."
Carson paled. Aiden pulled him close. "Shh, it'll be alright." he murmured against the soft brown hair. "Sir?" He turned to John with pleading eyes, silently begging him to fix it.
John sighed heavily and reached for his checkbook. He'd wanted to win Rodney's affection before revealing himself as the multi-millionaire he had been, and could be again with the right man's love, but it looked like there was no choice. He hastily calculated his remaining funds, and scribbled a check for half the amount. "This should hold you for a while." he said, handing it to the banker.
Cowen's eyes widened as he read the name on the check, and he positively glowed with greed when he saw the amount. Then he remembered the terms of the loan. "I can't take this." he said, hand shaking as he handed the check back to John. "Our contract specifically states that payment must come from within the families. Unless of course, you have a bill of sale for one or both of the properties?" he concluded hopefully.
"Nope" John replied cheerfully, "and I'm not going to need one. Give me a month and I’ll have a marriage certificate for you."
Rodney rolled his eyes. The man was insufferable. Did he really think that Jeannie would marry for money? Sure, John was beautiful, but beauty wasn't everythi… Rodney's train of thought derailed abruptly when that beautiful mouth claimed his in a kiss that reduced Rodney’s formidable intellect to disjointed pleas of yes, and please, and more.
They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart. "What do you say, McKay, marry me?" John asked, with no trace of the vague sense of amusement that underscored nearly everything he said or did.
Rodney wanted to say something clever about how he was married to his work, but the capacity for speech seemed to have fled south, along with every blood cell in his body. His hands moved of their own volition - one reaching out to cup John's face, thumb stroking gently over the lightly stubbled jaw, the other coming to rest in small of the muscled back, drawing him in for another achingly hot kiss.
"I'll take that as a yes." John said dazedly when they broke apart for the second time.
Epilogue
One month later, Aiden and John stood side by side, watching with gleaming eyes as Jeannie strode solemnly down the aisle, Carson's arm tucked through the crook of one elbow, Rodney's through the other.
Five hours later Jeannie was back home, sitting on the porch watching the sun set by herself. She knew she should be happy for her brother and her friends, but she couldn't help but feel a little lonely.
A shadow fell on the porch steps. Jeannie looked up... and up, into a serious face framed in a short dark beard. "Nice spread. You here alone?"
She should have been frightened. The man was imposing by size alone, and his dreads lent a feel of barely contained wildness. Not to mention the odd finger bone he wore on a cord around his neck. But Jeannie McKay didn’t frighten easily. She looked deeply into the stranger's eyes, and saw strength and compassion, and just a hint of loneliness.
"For the moment, yes." she answered without hesitation. "And I could use a hand. You want a job?"
"I'll think about it." the stranger rumbled, and Jeannie smiled. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be lonely for long.
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Yes!
Date: 2005-09-18 04:45 am (UTC)Re: Yes!
Date: 2005-09-18 05:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 05:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 03:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 05:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 03:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 07:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 03:34 pm (UTC)And it's been a long week, so the hug is much appreciated *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 04:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 05:13 pm (UTC)Places in the Stargate
Date: 2005-09-18 07:15 am (UTC)Re: Places in the Stargate
Date: 2005-09-18 03:37 pm (UTC)Thanks for commenting!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 10:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 03:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 12:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 03:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 06:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 08:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 07:06 pm (UTC)Carson and Ford were OMGCute.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 08:35 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it, and thanks for commenting.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-18 10:48 pm (UTC)Awww, Jeannie gave the boys away. And you paired her with Ronon. For that, I will always love you. *huggles*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-20 02:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 07:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-20 02:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 10:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-20 02:12 am (UTC)Rodney's not nearly as antisocial as he likes to pretend...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-21 06:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-21 11:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-21 07:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-21 11:46 pm (UTC)Yeah, I was kinda modeling it after Elizabeth Lowell in her Harlequin phase, and she had a tendency to write in pairs. Plus, given how involved Jeannie was, she *had* to have a happy ending.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-22 01:16 am (UTC)*snickersnort*
Date: 2006-02-03 08:01 am (UTC)Loved it! Excellent job, condensing a story so well and with such detail and color. Well done.
----}-@
Krys
Re: *snickersnort*
Date: 2006-02-04 04:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-15 02:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-20 04:52 am (UTC)Ah, Harlequins - the ultimate guilty pleasure! This turned out to be the best flashfic challenge, ever. So much fun to read and write.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 01:50 am (UTC)This one was short and sweet. I loved Ronon showing up at the end.
<small>(Trying again)</small>
Date: 2006-05-15 01:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-04 09:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-04 05:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-06-09 01:50 pm (UTC)