Happy birthday, auburnnothenna. I totally blew making yoghurt AND studying for this. It's just a tiny offering, we are unworthy, etc. pp. *g*



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Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Title: After the Drought
Set: after "Sateda"
Rating: PG
Words: 1000
Summary: John raised a single eyebrow. "Which is why we came to help in the first place. Or well, we came, we saw dusty plains, and you had a man-versus-nature victory."



It was raining.

A lot. Not cats and dogs, maybe, but John was almost sure he'd seen a quick flash of green in the torrent. Where the hell did all the water come from?

Listening more closely to Rodney's technobabble would've made the frog question superfluous, but John had been kind of pre-occupied back in the crystal dome. Two things were official now: Robot armies were only fun on TV screens, and no, there wasn't any limit to wacky Ancient inventions. Hooray for C-4, Ronon's pulse pistol, and Teyla's ability to do...well, anything.

John squeezed water out of his eyes, then shook his head so that droplets went flying.

Into Rodney's face, who squealed and took a funny half-step back. "Colonel! Stop it."

John grinned. "You're already wet."

They both were, in fact. Rodney's hair was almost black in the half-light of dusk, standing up in spikes and swirls. Water was still clinging to his lashes, the tip of his nose, making Rodney frown and wipe the back of his hand over his face. "For the record, this is exactly what I'd hoped to avoid."

They hadn't made it back to the gate, or even just to the village where Ronon and Teyla were currently waiting for them. This hollowed-out tree had come in handy, though, when the rain had started. All thanks to Rodney.

John peered outside. "Think the Ibtans are dancing in the fields right now?"

"If you can call them such."

"Well, they are the people of Ibta --"

"Fields! You know what I meant: that after seven years of drought, there wasn't much culture left in their agriculture."

John raised a single eyebrow. "Which is why we came to help in the first place. Or well, we came, we saw dusty plains, and you had a man-versus-nature victory."

Rodney snorted and made a dismissive hand gesture. T-shirt soaked to the bone, the fabric was tighter than ever around his arms, his shoulders. John glanced back up at his face when Rodney spoke again. "Yes, yes, complex system defunct for aeons, genius very much required, but we're talking about a localised system of literally thousands of pre-established Ancient weather modification satellites."

No frogs. Okay.

"It can't even be used for other planets, let alone against the Wraith."

That note in Rodney's voice wasn't one John liked, especially not after a mission this successful. He stepped a little closer, nudged Rodney's shoulder lightly with his, feeling warmth stubborn as Rodney himself. "You know, for their saviour --"

"Hah!"

"-- you're a little blasé, don't you think?" Winding Rodney up never stopped being fun. He made an extra-thoughtful face. "Maybe they'll make you their rain god."

"Oh, please.."

"Build you little altars. Sacrifice little Power Bar replicas."

"Your wit's astounding as always, Sheppard." Not especially amused, but at least Rodney didn't sound quite so unhappy any more. He wasn't smiling, but he looked at John for another moment, which was -- well, John didn't really know how he felt about Rodney's eyes on him like that. "Actually, you didn't do too badly back in the dome. Nice work."

John couldn't help a tiny jolt of pleasure, despite the fact he really shouldn't. Bleeding cuts or bruises wouldn't get him a fraction of the reaction Rodney always had when John used his mind. "Hey, we both did good work there."

"We always do." Rodney nodded and, for some reason, still didn't look away. A slight frown appeared on his face. "Of course, I know, we're team; it's just your job."

Volleying answers to riddles in a city made of glass while Ronon shot automatons and Teyla set up explosives -- no, John was pretty certain that hadn't been in the job description. "It's more than that."

True, but also a little more than John had really wanted to say, mostly because Rodney was now staring at him in earnest, and Jesus, did Rodney seriously think John was going to give a little speech about how valuable Rodney was, not just to the mission? John swallowed, turned on his heel to stick his head outside again. "Look, I think the rain --"

"Is still falling, thanks, Colonel." Rodney's voice was way too dry for this particular situation. "Guess you'll have to endure being stuck here."

Not entirely sure that there was an implied with me, John still didn't like this answer. "It's not that. I just --" he blew out a huff of air, still carefully not looking at Rodney but at shrubbery and water, so much of it. "I'm not good with the whole thing where we talk about how much we mean to each other."

A second of silence. Two. Three. John started to sweat a little.

It didn't help when Rodney finally spoke again. "Mean? To each other?" His voice was too high and a little shaky to boot.

John had meant -- he'd meant the team, all of them. Feeling what he felt for Teyla and Ronon, plus Elizabeth, and yeah, okay, for Rodney too. He hadn't meant --

"You and me?"

Okay, that -- John shivered at the words, which was strange in light of the fact he felt hot rather than cold.

The next thing he felt was warm air against the side of his neck. Warm breath. It really wasn't --

"What, you've thought about...this?" Funny how with so many inhalations, Rodney could still sound kind of breathless. "Sheppard?"

He really hadn't. Of course, now, on this damp, darkening planet, John wondered if maybe that was the result of some effort on his part. Because Rodney was close, so close, radiating heat. The evaporating water had caused the air to be chilly, so that was really quite welcome. Rodney was. Welcome here, in his space, and that surprised John more than anything else so far.

"No." John finally turned his head, looked right at Rodney, but before that flash of hurt, of confusion had a chance to bloom, John reached out and stepped even closer. Put a hand on Rodney's arm, strong underneath his own. "But I kinda think I should have."



Rodney's mouth didn't taste like rain after a drought or anything like that. It tasted like happiness.



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A/N:
1. Thanks to: mmmchelle for lightning-quick beta help, and to twistedchick for the prompt rain after drought. All you twittergals' ideas were great.

2. You can now find the story as either an honest-to-God podbook or a podfic in mp3 format here in my folder of Jinjurly's Audiofic archive.