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John prowls the room's perimeter as Rodney gets ready for bed. "You seem especially annoyed tonight," Rodney mumbles through a mouthful of toothpaste.
"Mrrrow, prrrrrt."
There's at least a week left before John can see the Gata'nah and - hopefully - be restored to his human self, but Rodney's birthday is in three days. John opens the closet door with a thought and curls up on a stack of clean shirts to sulk.
Rodney settles in with a scientific journal and red marker. He slashes corrections across the pages while muttering about incompetents and grumbling that his research won't be declassified until he's dead and gone - and ineligible for a Nobel. Ignoring John's discontented grunting from atop the laundry, he opines that not one scientist in the latest batch of profiles is fit to sling horse manure. After fifteen minutes of bemoaning the state of physics, he drops the journal and marker to the floor and asks, "You coming?"
John stretches and makes a stop at his water bowl before jumping on the foot of the bed, walking up Rodney's body and sitting on his chest. He sincerely wishes he could roll his eyes when his forlorn look is mistaken for adorable kitty face again, judging by Rodney's entranced expression. "Prrrrt," he says, patting Rodney's chin.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Mrrrrb."
Rodney moves his arm to create John's favorite sleeping spot. Stroking his inky fur, Rodney whispers, "Tomorrow'll be better, okay?"
John rubs his head along Rodney's jaw before slumping back into his shoulder.
~*~*~
John paces outside Teyla's quarters, waiting for her to emerge. He's rewarded with her presence a few minutes later. "Good morning, John," she says as he wends around her legs. "Did you need something?
"Prrrrt. Mryhee?" John responds, dashing down the hall a few yards, then back to her side.
"You want me to follow you?"
"Mrrrrb, prrrt prrrt," John replies as he heads towards the science labs.
They enter a lab that Teyla isn't familiar with, though she recognizes its inhabitants. "Good morning, Dr. Valdez, Dr. Trotter." Valdez and Trotter keep to themselves, mostly. She'd once heard Rodney dismiss them as 'soft scientists', for trying to understand Ancient culture using only what the expedition uncovers on the city
"Teyla! What brings you and the Colonel to our lab?" Dr. Trotter asks, peering around her desk at John.
"Do you need something from them, John?"
John glares at the scientists, puts his ears back, and hisses.
Trotter and Valdez recoil and stare at him in utter confusion. "I'm sorry, John," Teyla says. "I do not understand."
John leans against Teyla's knee before turning his baleful stare back on the scientists. "Maaa!"
"Oh, I think I see. You need me to stay, but would like Doctors Trotter and Valdez to leave?" Upon being rewarded with a loving headbutt, she turns to the scientists. "I am sorry to disturb your workday like this, but I believe that John must have a good reason."
The social scientists agree to go, their departure hastened by a low growl.
"Very well. They are gone, John. What would you like me to do?"
John uses a chair as a springboard up to a table in the corner. He paws at a cabinet, twisting to face Teyla.
She opens the cabinet to reveal several shapes wrapped in colorful paper. "Are these presents, John?"
"Maooo, brrrrrt."
"Is this because Rodney's birth day is in two days?"
"Mraooo!" John places a paw on Teyla's arm to reward her quick understanding.
"Are all of these for Dr. McKay?"
John responds by gently sliding his claws out.
"Very well. I will lay them out and you show me which ones to keep." She sets out seven packages and a twelve pack of Molsons. John scent marks the case of beer and the three that are for Rodney (Rodney and John, really). "And what might this one be?" she asks mischievously, holding a brightly wrapped package that smells like tea.
John lays his ears back and gives her a 'put it back or else' glare, prompting a chuckle as she returns it to the shelf.
They return to her room to stash the presents, nearly running into Rodney on the way. John sprints ahead and flops down to expose his belly (a guaranteed distraction technique) until Teyla safely rounds the corner. Mission accomplished, John jumps up to bump Rodney's knee with his head before hurrying to catch up.
"Very well, John," Teyla says after the last present is hidden away in her closet. "Is there anything else?"
"Prrrt, prrrrt. Mryhee?" John chirrups before heading out with Teyla close behind.
John leads her to the kitchens, where he corners the cook by sitting on her feet. "Colonel Sheppard?"
"John, is this also about Rodney's birth day?" Teyla asks, earning another headbutt. "Chef Kenna, are you aware that it is almost Dr. McKay's birth day celebration?"
"Oh, right!" Kenna exclaims. "So it's time to prepare the special meal we discussed a few months back, Colonel? I got the ingredients on the last Daedalus run; they're all in the deep freeze."
"Mrowww, brrrrrt," John responds, leaning into Kenna's scratching fingers.
"And for how many?" the chef asks.
"Two?" Teyla asks, changing it to, "Three? Four?" when John's claws come out on the first two numbers, before retreating after her final guess.
~*~*~
John paces Rodney's lab impatiently, finally jumping up on his desk. Rodney reaches over to pet his silky fur. "I'm almost done."
John sprawls across the keyboard to express his displeasure with Rodney's pace - or possibly - his penchant for working into the night.
"Seriously?"
John casually grooms a front paw.
Rodney throws up his hands. "Fine!"
John stands up and leans into Rodney approvingly.
"You want to walk or ride?"
John readies himself with a butt wiggle, then leaps to Rodney's shoulder. "Dinner?" Rodney asks as he strides out of the lab. They enter the mess, but when Rodney reaches for a tray, John gives his ear a sharp nip. "Hey! What was that for?"
"Dr. McKay," the cook calls. "You're needed on the East Pier."
"East pier? Don't I even get time to eat?" Rodney gripes, prompting another, somewhat gentler, bite to his ear. "Okay, I'm going! I'm going!" he says, heading for a transporter.
Rodney is briefly stunned silent by the setup that awaits on the pier, along with Teyla and Ronon. "Is this...?"
John taps Rodney's chin with his paw, turning his purr up so Rodney can hear him clearly. Rodney turns, gazing into Sheppard's eyes. "Thank you, John."
"Mrowww, brrrrt!"
~*~*~
Later, the quartet sits around the table, stuffed. It's the best meal Rodney's had in years, and not solely because of the menu: ribs from an almost-antelope that Ronon had brought down for the occasion, poutine, tuttle root coleslaw, and dried tatum, finished off with a decadent triple chocolate cake. Rodney pours a little Molsens in the empty poutine dish for John, who manages to purr at full volume as he laps it up.
"Thank you guys," Rodney says, gesturing at the remote control racing cars, the unbelievably soft new blanket from Teyla, and Ronon's traditional Satedan carving in an ivory-like stone, "for everything."
"Colonel Sheppard deserves all the thanks," Teyla says, nodding to the cat licking the last hint of beer from his whiskers. "He coordinated everything."
Later that night, as John settles into his favorite sleeping spot, Rodney whispers, "Best birthday ever!" into his neck. He falls asleep stroking John's dark fur moments later.
John's awake early, but has a hard time getting up due to Rodney's sleepy, but determined, grip. He gently pries away the last finger and scoots toward the edge of the bed.
"No," comes a somnolent protest. "'s my birthday." Rodney pokes his head out of the covers, arms reaching. "Sleeeeeeep!" he cajoles, trying to pull John down.
John kisses the tip of Rodney's nose. "Sleep. I'll take care of the kids." He drops another kiss and says, "Happy fortieth, Rodney," dodging one last sleepy grab before Rodney burrows back into the covers.
~*~*~
John compiles a shopping list on the back of an empty envelope as the coffeemaker chugs. He's bought a special Kona blend for Rodney's birthday, but decides to make a pot to sample before the birthday boy arises. "Quality control," he justifies, filling his mug. It's so good he has to 'examine' a second cup before waking the kids.
Climbing the stairs, John thinks back - before Merrie. Before Finn. Before Rodney, even. How those days were somehow empty even when they were hectically busy. Now with Rodney and the kids - their kids - the farm feels more like home than ever. He opens Finn's door to find him clutching his elephant (no doubt Merrie'd tried to steal it the night before) in his sleep. He sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the messy hair peeking out of the covers. "C'mon, 'jumper. Time to make Daddy's breakfast."
Finn's eyes fly open and he's immediately fully awake, and ready and raring to go. John goes to Merrie's room while the five-year-old heads for the stairs. He leans into the crib, thinking about the twin bed he's started for her in the barn. "Wake up, little one," he says, pulling back the blanket to expose Merrie's feet resting on her pillow. He has to laugh when she giggles from the other end of the crib, making her covers shiver. "C'mere, you," John mock growls as he pulls her up for a kiss. He lays her on the changing table and blows a raspberry on her stomach as her tiny fingers tangle in his hair, pinching his heart with every painless pull.
John changes Merrie and carries her downstairs to find Finn rummaging in a cabinet. "What do you want to make your Dad, 'jumper?"
"Pancakes!" Finn says, pulling out the huge blue-striped bowl.
"Pancakes it is, then. Merrie, you wanna help?" She gives her signal for down and toddles to Finn's side, grabbing a smaller green bowl and putting it between her legs, banging it like a bongo. "Okay, then," John says.
John sets up at the table, carefully measures out Bisquick, butter, and water, and lets Finn stir. Merrie alternates dropping blueberries in the batter and eating them. "Leave some for Daddy," John chides, but Merrie just squeals, blueberry juice staining her chubby cheeks.
Finn takes his role as big brother very seriously, especially after Laura gave him more responsibilities at the daycare, where Merrie trails after him like he hung the moon. He uses his newfound gravitas to explain that even though John's holding the spatula Finn will be the one to decide when the pancakes are ready to flip.
Finn finishes explaining blueberries and pancakes and proper maple syrup to Merrie before asking, "How many bubbles again, Baffa?"
"Fifteen," John replies seriously. Finn can't understand 'when it's the right amount of done', so John gives him a rule he can follow. It makes for one overdone pancake and two that are a bit gooey in the middle, but Rodney won't care. They're from the kids so he'll eat them with a smile and obvious, if overacted, satisfaction.
Finn stacks the three pancakes and John drowns them in syrup for Rodney's sake. Merrie dumps fresh fruit onto the plate and grabs a strawberry, taking a bite and putting the other half back. John hides his grin. "You ready, kids?"
Even if Rodney had managed to sleep through the racket in the kitchen, he's sure to be roused by Finn and Merrie clomping up the steps like stormtroopers. John elbows the bedroom door open, whispering, "How 'bout you two go wake up your Dad?" as he juggles the tray into the room.
Finn runs full-bore to jump on the bed as Merrie clambers up behind him. They pounce on Rodney with Finn yelling, "Hap'y Birthday!" while Merrie squeals her agreement.
Rodney flings back the covers and grabs the kids in a big hug. Merrie produces a bit of strawberry from god knows where and offers it up. Rodney accepts the gummy gift and chews it with over-enthusiastic humming while John sets the tray in his lap. As Rodney's knife sinks into the undercooked center, John explains, "Finn supervised."
Rodney cuts the pancakes into a lot of pieces, eating the bits suitable for human consumption and moving the rest around the plate. He fills up on the fruit, most of which Merrie has somehow managed to sample.
After breakfast, John shoos Rodney back to bed while he runs the kids to Laura's, warning Rodney to be ready when he gets back. Finn's happy to go, but Merrie has a mini-meltdown; she wants to cook some more. When John returns, Rodney's shuffling around the kitchen and the coffeepot is working on a second batch of Kona. "Thank you," he says, hauling John into a hug and burying his face in his neck.
"Oh, the day is young," John teases, grinning at Rodney.
"What? There's more?" Rodney asks, pulling away and pouring another cup of life-giving brew.
"You'll have to wait and see."
~*~*~
Rodney already knows (and claims to dread) the second part of his gift, and the trip to the Brenneman farm is quick. His protests change nothing - they're up in the biplane within twenty minutes. John does a loop-de-loop and elicits a squeal, followed by a thorough cursing of John's heritage three generations back, even though it's interspersed whoops of glee.
Back on solid ground, Rodney backs John against the truck to give him a long, loving kiss. "Thank you," he says. "For everything."
As Rodney settles into the passenger seat, John admits, "Well, there's one more thing." He untucks an envelope from above the visor and hands it over.
Rodney tears it open. "Two tickets to the Star Trek Experience traveling expo?" he asks incredulously.
John blushes. "They'll be in Sioux City in October. If that's okay?" Rodney simply beams approval at his favorite goof in the whole world.
Driving sedately back toward the farm, Rodney points to a side road that dead-ends at an industrial farm. He grabs the wheel from a startled John and steers the truck down to the turnaround at the barbed wire fence, where he proceeds to demonstrate just how happy he is with the day's events.
~*~*~
After a dinner of frozen pizza - capped off with the frosted brownies Mrs. Gunderson popped in to deliver, bath time, and the kids tucked in with bedtime stories, Rodney snuggles into John, once again burying his face in John's neck. The last thing John hears before he falls asleep is Rodney's quiet, "Best birthday ever."
John's first thought is, "Why is Punk's ass in my face?" He bats the cat away and curls into Rodney, muttering, "Happy birthday," into his neck.
Rodney grumbles his reply.
Turning his alarm off before it can sound, John leans over and kisses Rodney, enjoying the sensation of stubble against his lips. He gets up, starts a pot of Rodney's newest dark-roast blend and uses a plastic platter to waft the smell toward the bedroom.
Rodney stumbles into the kitchen less than two minutes later, muttering, "Coffee?"
At a quarter to seven, John says, "Get a move on. We've got lots to do today."
"But I've got-"
"You've got the day off," John interjects. "I talked to Elizabeth, and it's all arranged."
Rodney studies John for a long moment. "Why? What are we doing?"
"You'll see."
The doorbell rings a few minutes later. John answers the door and walks out with the Enterprise guy to check out their rental. He comes back spinning the keys around one finger. "You ready for a shower?"
"First tell me where we're going," Rodney cajoles.
John snorts. "Not a chance, McKay." He kisses Rodney, then unceremoniously whacks him on the butt. "Shower. Now. We've got stuff to do."
Rodney agrees, but drags John with him. 'So we'll be a little late,' John thinks to himself as Rodney's mouth does magical things to him.
~*~*~
A 90-minute drive later, John sets the car's handbrake in the Mystery Spot parking lot.
"Why are we here?"
John grins. "Why not? The Santa Cruz Mystery Spot celebrates physics as optical illusions, and it seemed like the perfect thing for your birthday. Is it okay?"
Rodney smiles reassuringly as he gets out of the car. He wraps an arm around John's waist as they walk to the sales booth and John buys their tickets.
Their teenaged tour guide drones his spiel in a monotone. By the second exhibit, Rodney can't take it, and starts explaining the physics to John in greater depth. The rest of their group turns to listen and the bewildered guide stops talking altogether. By the end, Rodney's the de facto tour guide, taking questions and explaining all aspects of the exhibits.
When Rodney makes more in tips than the official guide, he and John are politely invited not to return. Pocketing the money, Rodney shrugs and says, "Let's get some breakfast. My treat."
"I'm the one taking you out today, McKay," John protests.
"Fine... Coffee then?"
~*~*~
Afterward, John drives to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk for a day of carnival rides and carnival food. Rodney's favorite in the ride category is the old-fashioned wooden rollercoaster. After their fifth go-around in a row, John asks, "You want more fairway food, or should we get some real grub?" Rodney suggests the small restaurant at the end of the wharf, so they head that way.
Rodney agrees to sit outside, though he reconsiders when their food arrives with a side of seagulls. "Beat it, you rats with wings!" Rodney says as he tries to shoo them away. He details plans for a museum in San Diego that Elizabeth has landed them the contract for, gesturing with a french fry. "You know, if it weren't for the winged vermin and all the sun, this would be-" He's cut short as a seagull dives down to snatch the deep fried potato from his grasp. His indignant cries of, "Come back here, you feathered bastard!" are nearly drowned out by John's exuberant laughter.
Stuffed with good food, including a double thick slice of chocolate cake with Happy 40th in vanilla icing (ordered by John when he 'went to the bathroom'), and provisioned for the journey home with snacks they collect along the Boardwalk, John and Rodney slide into the car not long after dusk. John looks over at a drowsy Rodney as he merges onto Highway 280, and reaches out to pet his thigh. Rodney takes John's hand as he lays his cheek against the seatback with a sleepy smile. "Best birthday ever," he murmurs before he succumbs to the lullaby of wheels against the roadway.
Laura curses late submissions to the Citrus Hill Minutes newsletters as she fixes yet another typo. Glancing at her watch, she sees that she is now 45 minutes overdue for Rodney and John's party. She'd caught plenty of other contributors' mistakes but had somehow missed the hideously embarrassing one involving the talented "pianist" at the new piano bar downtown until just now. She's redoing the whole article to get the newsletter ready for the printer and then the post office.
Once the newsletters are printed, she drops them off so Miss Lurlene can affix their address labels and hightails it over to John's house. She parks half a block away and grabs the abacus she'd found in a High Springs antique store. Rodney's sure to appreciate it, especially as an alternative to the used Jew's harp she'd hinted she was getting him. His rant about germs and the inappropriateness of giving a gift that had been in another person's mouth had exasperated her into snapping that Rodney wasn't John's first, thereby escalating their friendly enmity.
Her smile fades when she spots the 1963 Triumph convertible in John's driveway; her boyfriend's 1963 Triumph convertible. The same boyfriend she'd forbidden John to contact, for fear he'd nag Ronon about his historic seasons at the University of Florida like he had when the four of them went to dinner. She hurries to the door and rings the bell, hearing it over the music playing inside.
Rodney throws open the door, smiling smugly when he sees who it is. "Come in! Come in!" he offers, trying to gesture but getting his hand caught in the lei around his neck, which somehow complements the ridiculous cone-shaped OVER THE HILL hat perched on his head.
Instead of following him in, she grabs a handful of shirt and drags him outside, closing the door between him and the party. "Why is Ronon's Triumph parked in John's driveway?"
"Because he lives too far away to walk," Rodney says with a smile, slurring only a tiny bit. He takes another sip from the plastic cup he's clutching and Laura can smell the rum on his breath.
Sighing, Laura says, "I have told John-"
Rodney cuts in, crowing, "But you haven't told me. An-and if I make John happy by inviting Ronon, I'll get a much better present after you've all gone home."
Laura rolls her eyes. "Fine, whatever," she hisses, brushing by him to get in the house.
~*~*~
Later - after many enthralling tales of Ronon's football exploits - made replete by tasty dishes brought by the Pembertons, Skeeter, Miss Melanie, and the rest of John's friends, a very tipsy Rodney is bidding everyone goodnight. "Thank you," he says, smiling at Laura owlishly before giving her a hug.
"Yeah, yeah - happy birthday, McKay," she replies as she returns the hug one-armed and pats him on the back. Ronon then lifts him off his feet with a bear hug that could intimidate a grizzly.
"G'night, John!" Laura waves as she and Ronon slip out. As they trade their own goodbyes on John's doorstep, she spots John and Rodney through the window. Rodney's hugging John and saying, "Best birthday ever," before John kisses him and pulls him toward the back of the house.
John offers the bottle of wine to their hostess as soon as she opens the door.
"I think she's a little young for alcohol, John," Rodney chides. John hands the bottle to a giggling Madison saying, "Give that to your mom." He waits for her to round the corner before giving Rodney a friendly pat on the butt.
"You sure you wanna do this?" Rodney asks.
"You forget, I've met Jeannie before," John replies. Rodney smiles - he'd almost forgotten about the gift certificate that brought him to John. (A subconscious attempt to avoid having to admit that fact to her? Never!)
Rodney grabs a kiss before pulling John into the house. They find Jeannie in the kitchen cooking up a storm. She greets them without missing a beat at the stove.
"This may not be the best time to tell you," Rodney says as he hugs his sister, "but they're vegetarian."
John is silent as he gets his own hug from Jeannie. "That's cool," he finally says, though his tone suggests otherwise.
"Thank you for the wine," Jeannie says. She pulls three beers out of the refrigerator and hands them to Rodney. "Take these outside and give one to Caleb." With a sly grin, she adds, "He's grilling steaks."
"For me?" Rodney asks.
"You finally brought John over. And it is your birthday, Mer."
"Mer?" John perks up.
"Never mind," Rodney chokes, hauling John out the back door.
~*~*~
After a tasty dinner - during which Madison asks countless questions about John's tattoos and the silver hoop in his left eyebrow - and an even more delicious birthday cake (that Rodney learns is vegan only after he's eaten two slices plus three decorative roses) and a lot of friendly teasing between Rodney and Jeannie, Madison blurts, "Can I do it now?"
"Sure, honey," Caleb says. "You remember where it is?"
"Yeah," Madison calls, already bouncing off into the hallway. She comes back with an envelope and offers it to Rodney. "Happy birthday, Uncle Meredith."
Quelling John's laugh with a quick glare, Rodney tears open the envelope and pulls out-
"A gift certificate? A spa gift certificate?"
"For both of you," Jeannie says to John, smiling. "I thought the last one worked out pretty well. You came away with a hell of a lot more than a tattoo." She raises her glass, and the adults toast; any excuse to partake of the delicious pinot noir is welcome.
Rodney glances at John, who grabs his hand reassuringly. "Yeah, okay. Thanks," he says. They clink their wineglasses together, then solemnly repeat the ceremony with Maddie's milk cup.
~*~*~
Three days later, John wakes Rodney up with a blowjob to put him in the right frame of mind. Though Rodney had seemed all for it at the Miller's, he'd turned hesitant after John made the reservations.
Rodney stalls by insisting on stopping for coffee twice on the way there.
"C'mon, Rodney... It'll be fun," John wheedles.
"I don't see how," Rodney retorts.
John lays his hand on Rodney's arm as he says, "They rub your back... They rub your neck-"
"You already do that," Rodney says with a leer.
"True, but they'll rub your feet, too."
With a sigh, Rodney says, "Well... I guess we can't hurt Jeannie's feelings."
~*~*~
Scrubbed, massaged, and pampered within an inch of their lives, John and Rodney stumble into the changing room. Since they're the only male guests today they have the whole enormous room - along with the attached sauna and hot tub area - to themselves. Rodney starts for his locker, but John grabs a shoulder and steers him to the hot tub.
"Seriously," Rodney objects. "If I get any more relaxed, I'll be brain dead. Or Kavanagh, god forbid."
John dangles a toe in the hot tub and finds that it's the perfect temperature. When Rodney looks ready to protest again, John drops his robe. Rodney gasps at the sight of a completely naked, semi-erect John. John slips into the water, reaching for Rodney's hand. "C'mere," he says, and Rodney is helpless to resist.
Relaxing into the heat as heavenly jets pulse against his grateful back, Rodney leans over to kiss John. He quickly finds himself with a lapful of very playful boyfriend, who leans down to claim a kiss before resting his forehead against Rodney's. Rodney's quiet, "Best birthday ever," is almost lost amidst the burbling water as he whispers it against John's soft lips.