[fic] more McShep; wc: ~3000

[ionic]

Title: Like Russia in the Winter
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Do not own nor claim to own.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Warnings: Established relationship.
Summary: John and Rodney pick Teyla and Ronon up from the airport.
Notes: Part of the NYC AU.

The drive to JFK during rush hour was as futile a battle as trying to invade Russia in the winter without the assurance of a quick and painless death. Rodney could be holed up in his favorite coffee shop right now working on something of actual importance instead of stuck in the passenger seat as John put both their lives in peril to cut across two lanes of traffic so they wouldn't miss their exit. And this was all for someone he didn't even know.

"Let's go over this one more time. You invited some chick you picked up months ago in Athens to stay with us for the weekend?"

John didn't even have the decency to look apologetic. He just slouched in his seat, one hand on the wheel, eyes hidden behind his pair of aviator sunglasses. "Her name is Teyla and I met her at a dig site."

"That doesn't make her any less of a floozy and you any less of a man whore," Rodney grumbled.

The truck came precariously close to the guard rail as they squeezed through the maze of roadwork going on and Rodney felt a few months come off his life. John, however, seemed not the least bit phased. "She's an archaeologist and works for the British Museum."

Rodney narrowed his eyes and watched suspiciously as a Buick tried to cut in front of them. "So you keep claiming. For all you know she could be an ax murderer."

"She does have to go through airport security, you know." John shifted gears and sped up. "And it's not like we make it a habit to keep convenient axes for murdering laying around the apartment."

"She could use the ice pick." Then Rodney's mind turned toward their fully stocked kitchen and all the tools for his untimely demise. "Or, oh God, that knife set, I told you we should have returned it. Then there's the frying pans, or she could throw the toaster in the shower with me."

It wasn't something he needed to see to know that John had rolled his eyes at him. "The bathroom door locks, remember?"

Rodney folded his arms across his chest. "Yes, and I also remember that the time you locked it you had to play Spiderman in a towel and crawl onto the fire escape so I could let you back in the building from the roof."

John sat up a little straighter, glancing at Rodney for a split second, putting his eyes back on the road before Rodney had the chance to tell him to do so. "I fixed it."

"Like how you fixed the stereo?"

John frowned. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that one anymore."

Rodney dug between the cassette tapes in the glove compartment to find spare change for the toll. "We're not, I'm just making a point -- that you invited a stranger into our home and it's going to get me killed."

John steered into the "Cash Only" lane and waited, letting the Ranger roll forward as they crept toward the booth, not bothering to put his hands on the wheel. "She's not a stranger. I've kept up regular correspondence with her. She's the one who sent that link for Latin Battleship."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, because after a few e-mails you know everything about each other."

John quirked an eyebrow and looked at him as they moved another few feet forward. "Didn't you meet Zelenka through a web forum?"

"That is an entirely different situation. I had to respond to him since his theory about the limestone dating was completely full of holes and it's my duty to keep the misinformation from spreading. Besides, I didn't invite him to stay with us."

John handed the money to the attendant and pulled through to merge back onto the highway. “Yeah, but you did lose that bookshelf to him in a game of street chess upon the whole face-to-face meeting thing.”

Rodney mentally grimaced and shifted his seatbelt so it was more securely across his chest as John started to weave through traffic. “I was having an off day and I won it back three weeks later.”

“But who plays, well, any stakes chess?”

A car in the next lane honked and Rodney used creative sign language to avoid adding to the air pollution. John sped up a little more. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the time you and Lorne threw money away on the turtle race guy.”

“He was cool.”

“You were betting on turtle races.”

“You’re just sore I didn’t pick the turtle you told me to.”

"Oh please. Not that it mattered since that race was rigged." Rodney still maintained Turtlus Maximus should have won; John had put his money on the less creatively named Sophia Loren.

"How do you rig a turtle race?"

Rodney shrugged. There had to be a way since theoretically you could cheat at anything, or anything where Rodney lost at any rate. "How should I know? I'm not the man with a box of turtles hustling foolish people out of their money."

There was a slight furrow to his brows as John seemed to consider something for a moment then said, "I think his name was Steve."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "That's not the point. Carson's turtle won and he was sane enough to not bet on it."

John glanced over his shoulder and merged over as the signs started to welcome them to JFK. "Missed out on a good fifty dollars."

"Maybe he knows how to rig a turtle race. He's the biologist."

"He's a neurosurgeon."

With a wave of his hand Rodney dismissed the distinction. "It's all the same to those people."

"Keep an eye out for parking."

Rodney frowned. "Why do we need to park? She can just hop in at the terminal."

"I told Teyla we'd meet her at baggage claim."

"Why? We're hard to miss."

John made a face. "Rodney," he said warningly.

"Fine, fine. There's a sign for hourly parking."

"And one for a Kiss and Fly."

Rodney made a face. "Sounds like a breeding ground for herpes."

John pulled off his sunglasses and clipped them to his shirt as they pulled into a tiered parking garage. "I think it's supposed to be romantic."

"What, don't they still allow blowjobs on the plane?" Rodney tried to avoid flying when he could since it made him motion sick. John liked it though, so he couldn't stay out of the air entirely, though they had given up on going for the high altitude sex after the third disastrous attempt. "I wonder if that breaks the three ounces of liquid rule."

"Maybe if you don't swallow," John said absently, attention focused on trying to wedge the truck into a space between two SUVs. "C'mon, we've got an hour."

Rodney sighed as he got out. "Seriously, why didn't you just have her take the subway to Grand Central? She's from London. They know how to color code."

John ran a hand through his hair and stretched languidly before he started taking long strides toward the terminals. "Stop complaining. We're here now."

Rodney hurried a few steps to catch up and fell in beside him. "Hours later. Wasting my valuable time."

John let him enter first as the automatic doors slid open. "You could've stayed at home."

Rodney snorted. "And let you meet your tawdry mistress alone? I think not."

John started toward the baggage claim area, pausing every so often between conveyors to stand on his toes and survey the crowd. "She and I will just have to save the reunion make out session until later then."

Rodney made a face. "Very funny."

"There she is. Teyla!"

A woman with long brown hair and an olive skinned complexion turned toward them, a wide smile lighting her face as soon as she spotted John. It was easy to recognize her from the pictures John had brought back, though now she was dressed in a patterned flowing skirt and a tight laced top. It was all very bohemian. Rodney wondered if she was a hippie.

"It is good to see you, John." She clasped hands with him warmly and Rodney's fingers twitched. She then turned her attention toward Rodney, finally breaking off the physical contact. "And you must be Rodney. John has told me much about you."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest to warrant off any unnecessary introduction."Oh did he now?"

Teyla didn't seem bothered in the least. "Yes. He tells me you do excellent work and from what I have seen I am inclined to agree. There are a few things I would like to consult you on while I am here."

Rodney lifted his chin and puffed up proudly. At least she wasn't stupid. "So he tells me you're an archaeologist." Out of the corner of his eye he saw John shake his head.

"Yes, but let us speak of that later." She took a step back and regarded both of them, though she mostly addressed John. "I have brought a friend with me. I hope you do not mind."

"Oh sure, the more the merrier," John said before Rodney had the chance to reply.

With that she glanced over her shoulder and waved someone over.

Rodney wasn't sure how he had missed the man the first time, considering he was over six feet tall and had dreadlocks -- definitely a hippie he decided. He wore a muscle shirt and what he almost suspected to be leather pants as he came toward them. He looked built to take out a roomful of marines and not even break a sweat. A vague part of his mind thought he should be reassured that she had brought her own male along, but holy crap that guy looked like he could snap Rodney in two if so inclined.

John on the other hand broke into a wide grin. "Hey, Buddy."

'Buddy' then proceeded to pull John into a crushing bear hug, John's grin echoed in his own. "Good to see you again Sheppard."

Teyla seemed pleased as she watched on with approval. Rodney eyed the newcomer warily and thought this was one of those situations where nature shows would tell you to walk quietly and carry a big stick. Rodney didn't have a stick with him though and he was never quiet, so instead he asked snidely, "Who are you?"

The other's expression turned serious as he sized Rodney up from head to toe. Maybe Teyla wasn't the ax murderer herself but she kept one in her collection. "Ronon Dex, FBI," he said gruffly.

Rodney took an involuntarily step back. "Seriously?"

"Wanna find out?"

"Is this one of those situations where if you tell me you'll have to kill me?"

Ronon shrugged noncommittally. "Guess it's a risk you'll have to take."

John looked like he was trying hard not to laugh - typical, he never took his peril seriously, Rodney thought - and Teyla seemed to be keeping more of an eye on the conveyor belt as it dumped bags onto it. "I believe I see our luggage."

"I'll go get it." Ronon loped off back into the crowd from whence he came, but at least he was big enough that it was easy to keep an eye on him so he couldn't sneak up on Rodney from behind. Maybe.

"Perhaps I should go help him," Teyla said, shouldering her backpack and starting off after Ronon.

"Is he really in the FBI?" Rodney asked turning to John.

John shrugged. "Not my secret to give away." Rodney suspected John was grinning on the inside, but there was no exterior proof of the sort at the moment.

Frowning, Rodney glared at him a little. "It so is if you're expecting to have them both stay with us this weekend."

John didn't seem the least bit concerned, though. "I didn't know she'd bring Ronon. It'll be a little cramped but not bad."

Rodney huffed. He had enough experience to know better than to hold any stock in John's idea of 'not bad'. "Says the one who once a year happily 'vacations' for weeks at a time to play in the dirt."

"You come with me."

"Yes, but I'm never happy about it."

John looked at him with barely controlled impatience. It was the same expression he tended to have when Rodney tried to explain to him the finer points of deionized water or came home with three different types of milk. "If I didn't do it you wouldn't have as many things to work on," he finally said.

"Oh don't try to use that as an excuse for your Indiana Jones complex."

John's tone turned thoughtful. "Do you think I should buy a whip?"

Before Rodney could fully appreciate the implications of that, Teyla and Ronon returned. She had one bag less than she had left with and Ronon had two bag straps hanging across either shoulder and a roller suitcase in each hand. Rodney thought he seemed disturbingly at ease and moved as though the weight was nothing. John didn't seem to find this anything out of the ordinary as he asked, "Got everything?"

"Yes, we have all our things," Teyla said with a nod, though she hesitated a moment. "Though, before we leave, perhaps it would be best if we found somewhere else to stay while we are here. I know I did not inform you of Ronon joining me ahead of time and we do not wish to pose too much of an imposition for you."

Rodney looked over at her and brightened a little. "That's very considerate of you. There are some nice hotels in the area if you'd like to get a-- ow!" He was cut off by a sharp, bony, elbow to the side.

John smiled reassuringly. "It wouldn't be an imposition. We were already planning for you to stay, one more isn't that big of a deal as long as you don't mind sharing."

Teyla looked uncertain. "Are you sure?

John slapped Rodney on the back, hand staying on his shoulder. "Of course we are. Aren't we, Rodney?"

Rodney sighed. "Yes, yes. Let's get out of here before they tow the truck."

The walk back to the parking lot was shorter than he remembered. That may have in part been due to the fact that each step brought the invasion to their home closer to their doorstep. Rodney looked at John and asked, "So, you told me about Teyla. How'd you meet Ronon?"

"Same place, same time, actually. I introduced him to real football."

"Canadian?"

John rolled his eyes. "American."

Ronon grinned. "And I taught him how to play rugby with some of the other guys."

"Yeah, and cracked a few of my ribs in the process," John said with a grimace.

Rodney turned on John accusingly. "You told me you were in a minor car accident one night!"

"I was! Some kid on a moped ran into my taxi." There was a beat and John at least looked a little guilty, but not a lot. "I didn't say that was responsible for my injury."

Rodney glared hard at him. "You said you went to the hospital right after."

John shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Well, yeah, the kid had a concussion and I wasn't just going to leave him there."

Rodney scoffed at him. "What else have you told me that's been made of lies?"

Teyla and Ronon fell a little behind them and kept out of the conversation.

"Look, I didn't tell you because I knew it was a stupid way to get injured and it wasn't anything that serious, it just made the flight home extremely uncomfortable."

"Good, you deserved it. Really, John, you played rugby with him?" Rodney turned to gesture emphatically at Ronon. "He could flatten you with one arm tied behind his back!"

"Hey." John frowned at him. "You don't have to be that mean about it. Besides, it really wasn't my sport."

"You failed miserably at it, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't go that far..."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at him and didn't say anything. John finally said, "Look, I'll make it up to you. We can stop at Dunkin' on the way home."

Rodney sniffed. "It's still not as good as Tim Horton's," he mumbled.

"I'll also make you blue Jello later." John brushed his shoulder against Rodney's and looked at him far too hopefully.

"You think you can bribe your way back into my favor with food?"

"Yeah," John admitted. He really had no shame.

Rodney tried to remain resolute, but the world really was a cruel, unfair, place. "Lots of blue Jello?"

"As much as you want."

"I guess you're forgiven for now," Rodney conceded magnanimously.

They reached the Ranger and John clicked the button to unlock the doors.

Ronon surveyed the truck. "Nice color."

"I picked it out," Rodney said defensively.

"It's bright like a lemon."

Rodney shuddered. "Don't say that."

John scratched the back of his head. "We might have a slight problem, since the truck isn't really meant for more than three people."

Rodney cast his gaze to Ronon who continued to do a fine impression of a baggage rack. "We could always dump him in the back."

John's hand swatted the back of his head and he pulled a face at him. Teyla gave them both a faint, bemused, smile and said, "If it is too much trouble we can take a taxi."

Rodney tried not to sulk as John took the bags from Ronon and loaded them into the back. "We'll figure something out. We can send Rodney on the subway if we have to, he knows the way back."

"So do you," he said to John accusingly.

Ronon pulled open the side cab door and eyed it for a moment. Then, through some defiance of physics, maneuvered himself easily into the backseat. His knees were practically pressed against his chest with his arms folded on top. Rodney didn't know how he managed it, but he looked neither awkward nor uncomfortable, even if cramped. "I'm good."

John blinked, Rodney stared, and Teyla serenely slid in next to Ronon, legs tucked under her.



*For the curious, since one of my friends asked upon reading, Rodney bought three different types of milk one time because one was for drinking, one was for cooking, and the other one was for cereal. John was less than impressed.

Comments

[pocky_slash.livejournal.com]

AHAHAHAAHAH THREE TYPES OF MILK. I LOVE IT XD

I also love this AU in general. Awwww, boys!

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

:D Thanks so much! ♥

[shin-san.livejournal.com]

Very OT, but how do I change file extensions with i heart tv shows on PC? The tutorial link is broken..

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Under folder options uncheck "hide extensions for known file types" and then change the .whatever to the one you need.

[flyingmachine.livejournal.com]

"Ronon Dex, FBI,"

Best. Part. Ever. I also love the cute little points and details that really bring out their canon selves.

"It's bright like a lemon."

Rodney shuddered. "Don't say that."

Lol. Awesome dialog. The scenes play out so well in my head. X3

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Hee. I'm glad you think so! It's all part of the let's make Rodney more paranoid game.

Well, dialog skill of writing Rodney is partially thanks to practicing with you through RP so there ya go.

[flyingmachine.livejournal.com]

Aww you're welcome?

And the mental image of Ronon adorning FBI field gear is still hawt.

[demilo19.livejournal.com]

loved the 3 different types of milk but ADORED the image of John as Indiana Jones - the hat, the whip, the winks. So him. I like this AU, very cool.

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Mm, yes. I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D

[porntestpilot.livejournal.com]

*For the curious, since one of my friends asked upon reading, Rodney bought three different types of milk one time because one was for drinking, one was for cooking, and the other one was for cereal. John was less than impressed.

That makes complete sense! Especially if you drink rice milk or soy milk, you need vanilla, chocolate, and plain. //nods//

This is very adorable!

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Yes, exactly.

Thank you!

[raiining.livejournal.com]

So very cute! Is there a sequel? Because these four in a small appartment is going to be made of awesome :D

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Yes, there will be eventually. :D Thanks!

[http://users.livejournal.com/_bettina_/]

Heh. This was cute.

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Thanks. :)

[aislinnrae.livejournal.com]

Is it weird that the 'three types of milk' thing makes perfect sense to me and that I've done it before?... Hmmm.

'M very much liking this NYC AU. This was funny. Rodney was blunt, John was a dork, Teyla was diplomatic and Ronon was intimidating. Perfect =D

[chiasmus.livejournal.com]

Nah. I'd probably do it if I actually liked milk.

I'm glad! It makes me happy when people read/comment. :D Thanks!

[psyko-kittie.livejournal.com]

*g* lovely... *shakes head at Rodney* three types of milk!?!?!

[raphe1.livejournal.com]

Damn, I had forgotten how good this series is! Write more and *I* will buy the milk!! Please????