Disclaimer: Not mine. Rating: Er, not really for the kiddies, but nothing really. Sillyfic. Het. Set: post-Redemption, with a bit of Broca Divide. archive: ask Pairing: Rodney/Sam (happy, Taf?) Notes: sigh. No, I'm not giving up my shipper cred. I'm HOPING there aren't typoes. The antibiotic just kicked in, however (just in time for me to type these notes. *makes a face*), so I can't bloody tell (although spellcheck caught one).

Smooth to Rough, Once Again
by ALC Punk!



"I thought you said you hated me."

"Shut up."

"But--"

The mouth claiming his was an effective way to shut up Rodney McKay. He floundered for a moment, disconcerted to have 145-plus pounds of Major Samantha Carter in his arms, practically sucking the life out of him.

"Look," he yanked her lips off of his, and stared at her. "You're confusing me. One minute, you hate me. The next--"

"Dr. McKay. Stop. Talking."

"Oh. I see how it is. You're infected, aren't you. Some alien parasite that makes you seek out the alpha male, the one who's got the best genes for you to mate with. Well, sorry sister, Rodney McKay doesn't impregnate just anyone!"

The blue eyes staring at him were rather wide, and then she began to laugh.

"Okay." That wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. Rodney was almost ashamed to admit to himself that he'd hoped she'd recommence her attack.

"I'm sorry, Rodney." She began gathering herself back together, leaning companionably against him. "Your... statements simply took me by surprise."

Yeah. It was still weird having Samantha Carter pressed against him. "Well, I can see how they would have. If it helps, you'll be the first one I call if I ever decide to donate sperm."

"Really?"

"Well, not--" He froze.

She was licking his neck.

"Okay. Now I definitely know there's something wrong." He shot a frantic glance around the room, trying to spot anything that could help him. But the on-base quarters he'd been assigned were empty of a panic button. Wait! There was a phone by the bed. If he could just get there.

"Something wrong?" Her arms slid around his waist, tugging him against her.

"No, no, I just think the bed might be more appropriate."

"I'm glad you agree, doctor." She chuckled, and then bit his neck and ground against him.

"In fact--" He paused to keep his voice from cracking as he maneuvered them towards the bed. "I agree with a lot of things. I think you're brilliant, and well-spoken, and evil--" shit. He hadn't meant to say that.

A throaty chuckle answered him. "Of course I'm evil, Rodney."

"That's great, fantastic." Success! The phone was off the hook and he yanked it to his ear, "Operator? Get me Dr. Frasier. Now."

Sam Carter's hand slid under his shirt.

He yelped as her nails scraped across his stomach.

"What's the matter, Rodney?"

"Nothing--Ah! Dr. Frasier, I think you should bring a medical team to my quarters. Major Carter is behaving a little--no, no, this isn't--" he yelped as Carter's nails scraped him again, this time, surely drawing blood. "--she's acting animalistic. Oh, thank GOD."

Sam drew back from him a little, pouting. "You're lying. Lying Rodney. Want to take my fun away."

"No, no, I just..." He tried a smile. "You're very eager. I wasn't expecting either."

She giggled. "Silly Rodney."

"Yes, of course. Always silly Rodney."

Just then, the door burst open, and Dr. Frasier and her orderlies swiftly dealt with the suddenly angry Major. They carted her away, leaving Rodney standing there, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Are you all right, doctor?"

"Uh, yeah... Is she?"

"Sam will be fine. She's the second person we've seen this resurgence in. We should be able to treat it quickly. Now, did she bite you at all?"

"Ah, no. No bites. She scraped me. Am I going to die?"

Dr. Frasier smiled her professional smile. "Not at all, doctor. Just let me see those scratches."

Trying not to feel humiliated, Rodney lifted his shirt, baring the lines of angry, abused skin to the redhead's eyes. She eyed them, then nodded, "Thank you. Yes. You should be fine, Dr. McKay. Why don't you get some rest?"

"Yeah. Rest."

-=-

"Dr. McKay?"

Rodney closed his eyes. Damnit. He'd almost made it to the parking lot. Maybe if he pretended he couldn't hear her.

"Doctor!" A hand grabbed his shoulder.

He heaved a sigh and turned to face his doom. "Major."

"Doctor." Her cheeks were flushed. "Janet told me, about--" her eyes traveled over his shoulder, avoiding his face. "About the other day. And I... I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For not..." She straightened, and met his eyes squarely. "For not taking advantage of the situation."

He stared at her for a moment, then snapped, "Contrary to popular belief, Major Carter, I don't need to drug, infect, or hit a woman to make her like me. I can simply be myself."

"I know." Her eyes still held his.

"That's just fabulous. Now, if you'll excuse me," he turned to go.

"Rodney."

Something in her tone made him look back. "Major."

"I could..." She paused, and her blush deepened. "I could have chosen half a dozen men between my lab and your quarters. I didn't."

"So..."

"You're special." And she moved close enough to touch, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. "Have a good trip back to Moscow, Doctor."

He gaped as she walked away from him. Wait. She couldn't mean... could she? But... God. No. She couldn't mean what he thought she meant. This was Samantha Carter, after all. She was EVIL.

-f-

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© 2005 ALC Punk!