Atlantis slash


Stargate Atlantis (including the universe, the characters, and all related images and logos) is copyrighted by SciFi and MGM. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred. No money was made from the writing or posting of any content on this fan site.

kageygirl's site is maintained by kageygirl.

Atlantis kageygirl


Title: Refraction

Author: kageygirl

E-mail: kageygirl@gmail.com

URL: http://www.kageygirl.com

Feedback: LiveJournal

Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Pairing: McKay/Beckett, McKay/Weir, McKay/Emmagan, McKay/Grodin, McKay/Sheppard

Spoilers: Minor for "Poisoning the Well", "Home"

AN: Yeah, that means there's het, fair warning. Also? Just odd.

Date: 10/17/04

Rating: R.

Carson Beckett liked to kiss Rodney while they had sex.

That suited Rodney just fine, because while they were kissing, Carson never stopped moving his hands. There was something to be said for having sex with a doctor: Carson had a sure touch, and absolutely no qualms about running his hands all over Rodney's body.

The kissing thing, while being fun in its own right, was also somewhat endearing. Carson was obviously a romantic, deep down.

But after Hoff, after Perna, Carson came to Rodney, and Rodney turned him away. There was something desperate and needy in Carson's face, in the way he cradled one wrist in the other hand like it was hurting him. Rodney knew he couldn't be what Carson needed, and he wouldn't help Carson tear himself apart any more than he already was.


Elizabeth Weir has always treated Rodney with respect, even when she has to cope with his less-than-desirable personality traits. She has always taken him seriously about matters of consequence, has always given his opinion due consideration, even when she's ultimately disagreed with him. He appreciates that more than he can put into words.

When he delivered a report to her quarters late one night, not long after the mist aliens had made them think they'd returned to Earth, she said all the right things, sounded just like herself. But her face was like marble, and her eyes were very far away.

She always backed him up. So he fought off his natural inclination to leave her alone with whatever was troubling her, and reached out, put a hand on her arm. She blinked, and looked up at him. Her face filled with a bitter sadness, but her eyes were back in the here and now as she reached back for him.

He still respected her in the morning.


Teyla Emmagan nearly made him choke on the PowerBar he was eating.

"Why? I mean, why me?"

She looked him over as they walked down the corridor. "Is there something that makes you unsuitable?"

Rodney swallowed the bite that had tried to kill him. "I'm not faulting your choice, of course, but in my culture, it's been my experience that women of your physical attractiveness tend not to approach guys like me. We have to talk you into it. On a good day. Possibly with alcohol."

She gave him the gentle "silly Earther" smile that he usually saw just after Sheppard gave up attempting to explain an American sporting event. "Among my people, we value knowledge—of good crops, good hunting grounds, good trading partners. We value the ones who hold such knowledge." She stopped him with a hand on his forearm, and turned to face him squarely. "And you are a good friend, Rodney. What more is required?"

She had a strong grip, and he realized that there was no earthly reason—Atlantean reason, either—for him to be on the opposing side of her argument.


Peter Grodin had been a club kid back on Earth. Had to have been; he had the natural grace of a dancer, and the pretty-boy self-assurance that would make him a shoo-in for the rave crowds.

Rodney hadn't been into the party scene, himself, but he could pick up the steps of this dance along the way. While working on the Atlantis DHD together, Peter kept bumping into him, far more than was necessary. And when Rodney gave him a pointed stare, Peter looked back at him provocatively through his eyelashes.

It turned out that Peter's mouth was more than just decorative. Rodney wondered whether Peter had picked up his technique in a back room somewhere, as he threaded his fingers through Peter's hair and leaned heavily against the wall behind him.

When it was Peter's turn, Rodney showed him that you could learn just as much staying in at night with a friend as you could going out and about with one.


John Sheppard came to him when Rodney least expected it—which was to say, ever.

He walked into the lab and stopped in front of Rodney, hands on his hips, his face set in determined lines. "I'm done waiting, McKay."

Rodney tried to remember if they'd been in the middle of a conversation, but nothing came to him. "OK. For what?"

"For my turn."

Rodney shook his head, but that didn't Sheppard's point any clearer. "I'm sorry—what the hell are you talking about?"

"You've been screwing your way through this base. And I've been waiting for my turn."

Rodney wondered briefly if he'd touched some Ancient device that acted like the quantum mirror back on Earth. "What? How—what?"

"I'm going to be your last, Rodney." Sheppard settled a hand possessively on Rodney's hip and leaned in close. "I don't share well with others."

"What makes you think I want you?" Rodney belatedly realized that he'd sell that better if he wasn't standing there letting Sheppard's thumb stroke under the hem of his shirt, and took a step back, out of reach. Sheppard took a step forward, keeping himself right in Rodney's face.

"Because you haven't come near me."

"I'm not following you." Rodney resisted the urge to take another step back, as he suspected he'd become the one being followed if he did. And it was suddenly very important that he stand his ground with Sheppard.

"It's a hell of a lot easier when you don't care, isn't it?" Sheppard gave him a smirk that was somehow sad. "Easier not to get hurt."

"If you say so." It was a non-answer, stalling for time, and Sheppard tilted his head as if he saw right through Rodney.

"The thing is, taking the easy way out…didn't get either of us here, to Atlantis. So why start now?"

Rodney lifted his chin, deliberately didn't cross his arms, because on him the gesture only came off as defensive. "Maybe I like things easy, OK? Maybe I want just one thing in my life to be easy."

Sheppard smiled like a kid with a new toy. "I can be that."

And he grabbed the front of Rodney's shirt, tugging him forward, and kissed him.

Rodney had spent the past minute half in anticipation and half in dread of Sheppard kissing him. In retrospect, dread should have been much, much stronger.

Sheppard kissed Rodney like they'd rehearsed it, deep and open-mouthed and oh-so-thoroughly. He slid his hands around Rodney's sides to his back and pulled sharply, sending Rodney stumbling into him. Sheppard's body was hot and lean against his own, and Rodney ran his hands along the major's shoulders, investigating the play of bone and muscle under the thin fabric of his shirt.

It felt better than good. When Sheppard pulled his head back, the wicked gleam in his eye told Rodney that he knew it, too. Damn him.

Sheppard still held him close, so Rodney had to marshal his thoughts with Sheppard's breath tickling across his cheek and Sheppard's thigh nudging between his own. "You're not easy."

"Am too." Sheppard shifted his hips, rubbing against Rodney, and Rodney had to bite his lower lip to stay focused.

"You and I together would not be easy."

"No, we wouldn't." Sheppard gave him a level stare, measuring him, his hands stilling on Rodney's back. "But I kind of thought a guy as smart as you would be up to the challenge."

Rodney pressed his palms against Sheppard's shoulders. "All right, I want you, you Neanderthal. Now let me go." Sheppard released him, and Rodney made a show of straightening his clothes. "But this would just be sex. We can't have a relationship."

"Because you'd care."

"Because—of a lot of reasons."

"Like you caring."

"Will you stop that?"

"Pretty much…no." Sheppard laid a palm against Rodney's chest, smoothing out the wrinkles he'd caused in Rodney's shirt. His eyes flicked up to meet Rodney's. "Because maybe I'd care, too."

That's why this would be incredibly ill-advised. Rodney stared at Sheppard, letting himself imagine what that stubble would feel like scraping over his stomach. He sighed, and turned away to start shutting down his equipment.

Behind him, Sheppard chuckled. Rodney reminded himself that it was not a good thing that Sheppard could read him well enough to know that he was admitting defeat.

Rodney gave it a week before things got irrevocably complicated, and they broke it off to save themselves the trouble.

One week, maybe two.

He remembered the look on Sheppard's face when he'd promised to be Rodney's last. When he'd said he wouldn't share.

Three weeks, tops.