| Bluespirit |
| 'A
light in dark places' |
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Need a blue sky
holiday
by
Bluespirit
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: G
Summary: John's had a bad day.
Genre: comfort, romance
Word count: ~ 400
Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The characters and universe are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and the Sci-Fi Channel. This fic is meant solely for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes:
1. This is a prompt ficlet for Lavvyan who wanted 'John comforting
Rodney after a mission gone wrong, or vice versa? Or some headachy stuff?
Because my head has been feeling like it's gonna explode all day.' I
hope this bit of schmoop helps & that your head's feeling better!
2. Thank you to Lantean_drift (Q.H.) for the read-through.
There was a loud crash, followed in quick succession by a series of
muffled curses and a collection of resonating thuds. John gingerly
lifted the cold pack from his eyes and raised his head.
“Rodney. What are you doing?”
Rodney’s head popped up from behind John’s desk, his hair standing
up like it was doing battle with Zelenka’s in a ‘Wild and Wispy’
Pageant. “Um, trying to be quiet?” Rodney suggested, sotto voiced
and a little shame-faced, as he manhandled cables and god-knows-what
around the end of John’s bed.
John rested his aching head back on the pillow with a long sigh, and ‘ow!’
- was there a single position he could lie in that didn’t involve
pressing on the egg-sized lump that losing a battle with an Ancient
floor had caused? It looked like the answer was no. In addition to the
bump on his head, there was a really impressive light show going on
whenever he closed his eyes, with accompanying spasms of shooting pain
just for extra entertainment. Today really hadn’t been the best of
days and he just wanted to follow Carson’s advice and sleep it off.
Though John was still treating his diagnosis of ‘och, just a few bumps
and bruises, lad’ with some suspicion, given the minefield currently
exploding in his brain.
“Being quiet doing what?” John asked slowly, as Rodney tugged
at something that made a disapproving screech.
“I’m just setting this up… nearly done,” Rodney whispered,
loudly. “It’s a light box we found in one of the med-labs near the
East pier. It produces light on a wavelength that is incredibly
conducive to human sleep. Plus I have this incense burner thing I
borrowed from Teyla. I thought they’d help you relax and get some
rest.”
John leaned up on his elbows. Rodney, his shirt awry and with a smudge
of what looked like charcoal on one cheek, was plugging a final cable
into a small, white box. Immediately a soothing glow began to spread out
into the room, along with a scent that reminded John vaguely of lavender
or sandalwood, maybe. Rodney had done all this - to make him feel
better.
“So, I’ll just be going then,” Rodney murmured, dropping his eyes.
“You need to get some sleep.”
“Thanks, Rodney,” John said softly, his headache receding for the
first time in hours. “But I need one more thing,” he smiled - and
lifted up the edge of the comforter in invitation.
The end
Title taken from 'Bad Day' by Daniel Powter
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