Disclaimer: Read as standard: not mine, no profit made, etc.
Written for the Two Plus One Challenge. I know I don't exactly write a lot of John/Carson but for some reason this challenge just dragged this ficlet out of me. Enjoy. Hopefully. :)
Sliding his hand under Carson’s shirt, eliciting a soft groan in response, the last thing John Sheppard wanted to hear was the sound of a headset going off. Unfortunately that was exactly what happened. Carson gave him an apologetic look and reached for the radio.
“Don’t answer it,” John said, only half-serious.
“I have to answer it,” Carson replied pointedly.
“If it was major they’d put it on citywide.”
Carson shook his head and activated the radio as John sighed and slumped back onto the bed. “Rodney,” Carson said warily, “what do you want?”
“We need you in the lab,” came the distracted voice of one Rodney McKay and John growled under his breath.
“Why?” Carson asked suspiciously.
“Because I want you to dance the Macarena, why do you think?” came the snarky reply. “There’s something that needs switching on and it looks like it might be medical, which is why I’m calling you and not Colonel Flyboy.”
John scowled at both the insult and the speculative look in Carson’s eyes. The doctor might be wary of Ancient technology most of the time, but give him something medical and that skittishness disappeared.
“I’m on my way,” Carson said. “See you in a few minutes.”
“Carson!” John protested. “Don’t you think we’re a little busy?”
“You know Rodney, love,” Carson smiled. “If I don’t go he’ll call you and we’d still be back to square one.”
“This is ridiculous,” John snapped. “This is the third time in a row Rodney’s interrupted us. It’s getting annoying.”
“Only ‘getting’?” Carson sighed. “I shouldn’t be long.”
John sighed happily as Carson settled, trailing kisses down his throat, and he slowly ran his hands up the other man’s back, revelling in the feel of muscle under his hands, the solid presence of Carson Beckett in his bed.
“Colonel?” came the tinny, accented voice of Radek Zelenka and John groaned, closing his eyes in dismay.
“What now?” he muttered. “You see?” he continued, directing his attention to the man reluctantly pulling away from him. “It’s a conspiracy. Now he’s co-opting Zelenka.”
“I’m beginning to agree with you,” Carson grumbled, trying to sit more comfortably.
Grabbing his headset, John activated it. “Yes Doc?” he said, voice deceptively pleasant.
“Can you come to the lab please? Apparently your presence is required.”
“Of course,” John replied sweetly. “I’ll be right there.” Clicking off the headset he pinned his lover with a firm look. “You are not going anywhere,” he said. “You’re staying right here and we are finishing this.”
Radek watched warily as Colonel Sheppard strode purposefully into the lab. This likely wouldn’t be good, not judging by the overly amiable tone the other man had been using on the comm. Sure enough, the colonel stalked over to where Rodney was fiddling with the Ancient device that so required the man’s presence, Rodney muttering things like ‘Finally’ and ‘What took you so long?’, completely oblivious to the danger signs.
Radek considered himself a smart man. Not only when it came to engineering but also when it came to knowing when to stay out of the line of fire. Like now. However, while discretion might be the better part of valour, there was nothing to say he couldn’t stay and watch the entertainment.
The colonel spun the scientist round, grabbing hold of his shirt in his hands. “Rodney,” he said in a dangerously even tone, “whatever you’re trying to do, it stops now. No more cock-blocking.”
Radek blinked, as did Rodney. “Excuse me?” the somewhat excitable man demanded.
“Every time you need something switching on you call me or Carson, always when we’re right about to have mutually satisfying sex and you constantly interrupting is getting in the way of that. You may have noticed that I get a little cranky when I keep getting called to the lab instead of getting my brains screwed out and that’s not pleasant for anyone. You have your own members of staff with the gene, Rodney. Use one of them.”
“Colonel, are you feeling alright?” Rodney asked, voice a little higher pitched than usual. “Because you look a little crazy right now. Doesn’t he, Radek? Crazy. It’s in the eyes.”
Raising his hands in defence, Radek shook his head. “Do not bring me into this, Rodney. Men have limits. Obviously the Colonel has reached his.”
Letting go, Colonel Sheppard stepped back. “One more interruption McKay and I’m going to have Carson decide you need a detox from coffee. A permanent one.”
Rodney stared at him, open mouthed at the low blow.
“I mean it,” the dark-haired man continued inexorably. “No more calls.” That said he rearranged his shirt and turned on his heel, clearly intent on returning to the presumed liaison they’d inadvertently interrupted.
“Rodney,” he said into the disbelieving silence left in the Colonel’s wake. “We should get Miko to operate this.”
“She’s busy,” Rodney snapped. “All my members of staff are busy, or they should be. That’s why I called Sheppard.”
“Who is also… busy.”
“Apparently,” Rodney snapped before giving him a thoughtful look. “We really need to get you the ATA gene.”