SGA (Sheppard/Beckett): Need to Know
May. 4th, 2006 07:09 pmTitle: Need to Know
Author: smallwaldo
Rating: R
Words: 1382
Pairing: Sheppard/Beckett
Summary: “For the third time, Rodney, I told you don’t want me to answer that question.” “If you’ve had to tell me three times then I beg to differ – I clearly do want to know.”
Rodney scowled as he made his way into the infirmary, holding his left hand in his right and alternately staring at the trickle of blood and looking anywhere but. It was nearing ten o’clock and he was really hoping to be in bed by midnight, but this little sidetrip to the infirmary was certainly going to derail that plan.
As the doors swooshed open, Rodney could hear music coming from somewhere. Looking around, he noticed that the infirmary was empty of both staff and patients. “Um, hello? Bleeding profusely over here!” he hollered into the empty ward.
Carson came out of an adjacent storage room, a ridiculous grin on his face. That alone was cause enough for Rodney to forget about the ‘career-ending canyon’ (as he’d described it to Zelenka) carved into his hand. “What are you smiling at?”
Carson had blushed a little before simply saying, “You don’t want to know.” Carson noticed the blood welling up between the fingers holding Rodney’s hand closed. “What have you done to yourself now?” He steered Rodney to the nearest bed by the elbow and helped him hop up on it.
“The housing to the thing Zelenka and I were working on popped off. In pieces.”
Carson grabbed some gauze and wiped away the worst of the blood so he could see the damage. “That’s going to need to be closed. Sit tight.”
“Stitches? I can’t afford to have stitches. We’re still working on that thing. I need my hands for you know… working on stuff,” Rodney whined as Carson moved about the infirmary gathering up what he needed. When he looked up, Carson had that silly grin again. “And again I ask, what the hell are you smiling about? You’re so bored in here tonight that you’re amused that I injured myself so you wouldn’t have to count bedpans or something?”
He pulled a table up and set Rodney’s elbow on it, propping his hand over a kidney dish. He took a squirt bottle and began rinsing out the wound. “Hm?” Rodney pressed when Carson still hadn’t answered him.
“Rodney, I’m not amused by your injury. But seriously, I don’t think you want to know.” He blotted off the wound and turned Rodney’s hand a few different ways, examining the edges of the gash.
Carson picked up a small tube from his pile of supplies and pinched the edges of Rodney’s cut. Rodney yelped and pulled back, smearing blood all over his hand again. “Now look what you’ve made me do. We have to start all over. Hold still, Rodney; you’re worse than that wee Athosian lad who was in here yesterday with the broken wrist.”
Rodney pulled a face, but said nothing as Carson cleaned the wound again. After a few exaggerated sighs he finally said, “This is going to need stitches, isn’t it? It told Zelenka to hold on to his end tighter. Now I’m gonna get poked a thousand times and I’m gonna have a scar and –“
“Done,” Carson said as Rodney ranted.
“Done?”
“Done.” Carson repeated, his goofy grin even bigger now.
“No stitches?”
“No stitches. I’m going to wrap that hand in gauze though. Mostly to remind you that you’ve sliced it open recently and should take it easy for a few days.”
“How’d you do that with no stitches?”
“I glued it.”
“Glue? You mean like that stuff you used to fix that coffee mug the other day?” Rodney asked alternately amazed and freaked out.
“More or less. It was a fairly shallow flesh wound with nice straight sides that adhered very nicely to each other. Now quit your whining before I do decide to get out some needles.” Carson rolled a couple of layers of gauze around Rodney’s palm and taped it off. “Keep you hand clean, but don’t scrub at the glue. It’ll dissolve as your skin heals. If it starts to itch or turn red around the site, come back and let me know.”
“You still haven’t told me,” Rodney said making no move to get off the hospital bed, despite the dismissive tone of Carson’s instructions.
“Told you what?”
“Why you’re grinning your way through the graveyard shift. You know, you are the department head, you can stick some other poor soul with this abysmal duty.”
“Unlike some people, I believe that everyone should take their share of the ‘abysmal’ shifts. And since I bother to turn in schedules that have something more concrete on them than ‘when I start’ until ‘when I finish’, I only end up working until the wee hours once in a while.” Carson began cleaning up the detritus of Rodney’s wound.
“Nice try, but you aren’t changing the subject. Why the hell are you smiling so much this late at night?”
“For the third time, Rodney, I told you don’t want me to answer that question.”
“If you’ve had to tell me three times then I beg to differ – I clearly do want to know.” Rodney tried to look haughty as he crossed his arms, but the way he gingerly tucked his injured paw into the crook of his opposite elbow, spoiled the effect. “This is going to be one of these discussions where you try to convince me that it’s not a big deal, when we both know it is and you just want to keep me in the dark. Have one over on me, isn’t it?”
Carson sighed and crossed his own arms. “No, apparently this is going to be one of those discussions where you really think you want to know until I tell you and then you get all worked up and tell me that you didn’t need to know that.”
“Well if it’s going to be one of those discussions, then we might as well just have it and be done with it.”
Carson gave Rodney a long-suffering sigh. The man was becoming a serious – what was the term John used? – buzz-kill?
“I remind you that you asked, several times. And several times I attempted to avoid telling you this.”
“Fine, whatever. Just tell me.”
Carson looked around to make sure no one else had come in when he hadn’t been paying attention. “John got done training his pilots a little early tonight. And when he was done he came over to my quarters, shoved me against the wall and gave me the best blow-job of my life. No warning – for that matter he didn’t say a word. He just pushed me against the wall, undid my pants, pulled them out of the way and –“
“Alright, alright, alright! I get it already. I don’t need the sordid details. TMI, already!”
“TMI?” Carson interrupted.
“Too. Much. Information.” Rodney clarified.
Carson grinned at him, his buzz returning now. “I told you, you didn’t want to know.”
“Hey I never begrudge another guy sex, but that doesn’t mean I need a blow by -” He clapped his good hand over his face. “Play by play recap.” He shook his head.
Feeling cheeky Carson asked, “Jealous?”
Rodney peered out at him from between his fingers before letting his hand slide down onto his lap. “In a general sense. Not a specific sense. You can rest assured that you are the only person in this room who has his day made by having John Sheppard going down on him. And I’m perfectly glad to leave it that way. Now if I could get Samantha Carter to –“
“Okay Rodney, that’s about as much as I need to know about your fantasy life. Your hand will be fine in three or four days. Come back if it gives you any trouble.”
He let Rodney get half way to the door, “Oh, and Rodney… since she isn’t here… you are right-handed, right?”
Rodney used his right hand to very slowly and very clearly show Carson just how well he could use his right hand. With his middle finger still extended he added, “And if that doesn’t compute in your little British mind, I can add this one too,” and he added his first finger.
Carson just laughed. “It’s good to know you can insult people on two continents, Rodney. No go home and take some aspirin and rest that hand.” He turned back to his work, still smiling.
Author: smallwaldo
Rating: R
Words: 1382
Pairing: Sheppard/Beckett
Summary: “For the third time, Rodney, I told you don’t want me to answer that question.” “If you’ve had to tell me three times then I beg to differ – I clearly do want to know.”
Rodney scowled as he made his way into the infirmary, holding his left hand in his right and alternately staring at the trickle of blood and looking anywhere but. It was nearing ten o’clock and he was really hoping to be in bed by midnight, but this little sidetrip to the infirmary was certainly going to derail that plan.
As the doors swooshed open, Rodney could hear music coming from somewhere. Looking around, he noticed that the infirmary was empty of both staff and patients. “Um, hello? Bleeding profusely over here!” he hollered into the empty ward.
Carson came out of an adjacent storage room, a ridiculous grin on his face. That alone was cause enough for Rodney to forget about the ‘career-ending canyon’ (as he’d described it to Zelenka) carved into his hand. “What are you smiling at?”
Carson had blushed a little before simply saying, “You don’t want to know.” Carson noticed the blood welling up between the fingers holding Rodney’s hand closed. “What have you done to yourself now?” He steered Rodney to the nearest bed by the elbow and helped him hop up on it.
“The housing to the thing Zelenka and I were working on popped off. In pieces.”
Carson grabbed some gauze and wiped away the worst of the blood so he could see the damage. “That’s going to need to be closed. Sit tight.”
“Stitches? I can’t afford to have stitches. We’re still working on that thing. I need my hands for you know… working on stuff,” Rodney whined as Carson moved about the infirmary gathering up what he needed. When he looked up, Carson had that silly grin again. “And again I ask, what the hell are you smiling about? You’re so bored in here tonight that you’re amused that I injured myself so you wouldn’t have to count bedpans or something?”
He pulled a table up and set Rodney’s elbow on it, propping his hand over a kidney dish. He took a squirt bottle and began rinsing out the wound. “Hm?” Rodney pressed when Carson still hadn’t answered him.
“Rodney, I’m not amused by your injury. But seriously, I don’t think you want to know.” He blotted off the wound and turned Rodney’s hand a few different ways, examining the edges of the gash.
Carson picked up a small tube from his pile of supplies and pinched the edges of Rodney’s cut. Rodney yelped and pulled back, smearing blood all over his hand again. “Now look what you’ve made me do. We have to start all over. Hold still, Rodney; you’re worse than that wee Athosian lad who was in here yesterday with the broken wrist.”
Rodney pulled a face, but said nothing as Carson cleaned the wound again. After a few exaggerated sighs he finally said, “This is going to need stitches, isn’t it? It told Zelenka to hold on to his end tighter. Now I’m gonna get poked a thousand times and I’m gonna have a scar and –“
“Done,” Carson said as Rodney ranted.
“Done?”
“Done.” Carson repeated, his goofy grin even bigger now.
“No stitches?”
“No stitches. I’m going to wrap that hand in gauze though. Mostly to remind you that you’ve sliced it open recently and should take it easy for a few days.”
“How’d you do that with no stitches?”
“I glued it.”
“Glue? You mean like that stuff you used to fix that coffee mug the other day?” Rodney asked alternately amazed and freaked out.
“More or less. It was a fairly shallow flesh wound with nice straight sides that adhered very nicely to each other. Now quit your whining before I do decide to get out some needles.” Carson rolled a couple of layers of gauze around Rodney’s palm and taped it off. “Keep you hand clean, but don’t scrub at the glue. It’ll dissolve as your skin heals. If it starts to itch or turn red around the site, come back and let me know.”
“You still haven’t told me,” Rodney said making no move to get off the hospital bed, despite the dismissive tone of Carson’s instructions.
“Told you what?”
“Why you’re grinning your way through the graveyard shift. You know, you are the department head, you can stick some other poor soul with this abysmal duty.”
“Unlike some people, I believe that everyone should take their share of the ‘abysmal’ shifts. And since I bother to turn in schedules that have something more concrete on them than ‘when I start’ until ‘when I finish’, I only end up working until the wee hours once in a while.” Carson began cleaning up the detritus of Rodney’s wound.
“Nice try, but you aren’t changing the subject. Why the hell are you smiling so much this late at night?”
“For the third time, Rodney, I told you don’t want me to answer that question.”
“If you’ve had to tell me three times then I beg to differ – I clearly do want to know.” Rodney tried to look haughty as he crossed his arms, but the way he gingerly tucked his injured paw into the crook of his opposite elbow, spoiled the effect. “This is going to be one of these discussions where you try to convince me that it’s not a big deal, when we both know it is and you just want to keep me in the dark. Have one over on me, isn’t it?”
Carson sighed and crossed his own arms. “No, apparently this is going to be one of those discussions where you really think you want to know until I tell you and then you get all worked up and tell me that you didn’t need to know that.”
“Well if it’s going to be one of those discussions, then we might as well just have it and be done with it.”
Carson gave Rodney a long-suffering sigh. The man was becoming a serious – what was the term John used? – buzz-kill?
“I remind you that you asked, several times. And several times I attempted to avoid telling you this.”
“Fine, whatever. Just tell me.”
Carson looked around to make sure no one else had come in when he hadn’t been paying attention. “John got done training his pilots a little early tonight. And when he was done he came over to my quarters, shoved me against the wall and gave me the best blow-job of my life. No warning – for that matter he didn’t say a word. He just pushed me against the wall, undid my pants, pulled them out of the way and –“
“Alright, alright, alright! I get it already. I don’t need the sordid details. TMI, already!”
“TMI?” Carson interrupted.
“Too. Much. Information.” Rodney clarified.
Carson grinned at him, his buzz returning now. “I told you, you didn’t want to know.”
“Hey I never begrudge another guy sex, but that doesn’t mean I need a blow by -” He clapped his good hand over his face. “Play by play recap.” He shook his head.
Feeling cheeky Carson asked, “Jealous?”
Rodney peered out at him from between his fingers before letting his hand slide down onto his lap. “In a general sense. Not a specific sense. You can rest assured that you are the only person in this room who has his day made by having John Sheppard going down on him. And I’m perfectly glad to leave it that way. Now if I could get Samantha Carter to –“
“Okay Rodney, that’s about as much as I need to know about your fantasy life. Your hand will be fine in three or four days. Come back if it gives you any trouble.”
He let Rodney get half way to the door, “Oh, and Rodney… since she isn’t here… you are right-handed, right?”
Rodney used his right hand to very slowly and very clearly show Carson just how well he could use his right hand. With his middle finger still extended he added, “And if that doesn’t compute in your little British mind, I can add this one too,” and he added his first finger.
Carson just laughed. “It’s good to know you can insult people on two continents, Rodney. No go home and take some aspirin and rest that hand.” He turned back to his work, still smiling.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 12:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 12:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 12:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 01:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 03:40 pm (UTC)“Keep you hand clean, but don’t scrub at the glue. It’s dissolve as your skin heals. If it starts to itch or turn red around the site, come back and let me know.”
There could've been something else too, but I forgot it already. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-11 01:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-11 01:57 am (UTC)It means the world to me that you could still be amused by the story without knowing the characters or the show! Thanks!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-05 03:44 pm (UTC)lol I would be grinning too.
And I love the convo between Rodney and Carson, very good story :)