Fic: 'Two of a Kind, Working on a Full House' (Stargate Atlantis AU, gen, PG, 1/1) Title: Two of a Kind, Working on a Full House Fandom: Stargate Atlantis (band AU) Characters: ensemble Word Count: 1672 Rating: PG Spoilers: N/A Challenge: Um, Sarah told me to. Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: Rodney McKay and Nick Rhodes (the cat) have a number of things in common. But they have one important thing not in common, that is about to make Rodney's life very interesting.
Two of a Kind, Working on a Full House
"Congratulations, Daddy," Anastasia said when Rodney let himself into the house.
He blinked, dropping his keys in the basket in the foyer on autopilot. He was just tired from the road, he thought, that had to be it, because his cat-sitter didn't just say, didn't just call him, what he thought she did. "...What?"
"Your household just got a little bit bigger," Anastasia said with the same bright grin, and Rodney was utterly floored.
"I'm not hearing this," he said. "I can't... We... You're not..." He'd never touched her, he swore. Sure, he'd thought about it —Anastasia was a statuesque blond who loved cats, of course he'd thought about it often and at length— but he wasn't insane enough to make a pass at her.
"Of course not!" she said, looking shocked and, for a moment, disgusted. "Nick."
"Nick? Nick Rhodes?"
"Had a litter," she said, like he was stupid.
"Nick had a litter," he repeated, sounding admittedly pretty stupid. The initial horror subsided, allowing room for the rest of his thoughts to start seeping into his brain. He thought he heard a faint kitty keen, which was unusual, since Nick Rhodes was usually so quiet, like a ninja. He followed the sound in a trance, up the stairs and into his cat's private quarters, so designated by the Hollywood star on the door reading 'Nick Rhodes'. His beloved cat was there, lying fat and sleepy under a mass of squirming, crying kittens. "Oh my God," said Rodney. "I thought he was just fat!"
"I've got a question for you, Rodney," Elizabeth said, pressing her lips into a thin line to hide the fact that she was grinning at him. "How did you not know Nick was a girl?"
"I had more important things on my mind!" he said, flailing a little in irritation. "Do you think the songs just magically write themselves?"
"I didn't think there was anything more important than your cat," Elizabeth said with admirable poise. His back turned to the other three bandmates, Rodney was spared from their silent hysterics.
"Someone's been letting him out of the house," Rodney fretted. "He's been cavorting with some skanky neighborhood stray, and now he's... she's... he's a she! And a them! They pee everywhere, like a dog..."
"Hey," Ronon said roughly, speaking for the dog-lovers amongst them.
"I agree with Elizabeth," Teyla said, recovering first. "You are usually so... attentive to detail, Rodney," she said, and they chose to ignore John and Ronon's muffled snorts at Teyla's diplomatic understatement of Rodney's anal tendencies.
"Well, I only had Nick for about a month or so before we had to go on tour..." He flashed them a glare, as if the band's continued success was somehow responsible for all of this. Extra-defensively, with some arm-flinging thrown in, he added, "The vet never said!"
"And you didn't think to check?" said Ronon.
"What, and violate my cat? I don't think so."
"So what are you going to do?" Elizabeth asked.
"I don't know. I can't keep the kittens; I'm never home. Unless you meant what I'm going to do with Nick, in which case... paint a big scarlet A on his chest and shackle him in his room."
John, who had thus far exercised impressive restraint, could apparently manage it no longer and barked out a helpless laugh. "Are you going to change his name to Nick Rhoda now?"
Rodney finally broke down his week-long silent treatment of John to hiss, "Oh would you stop it?"
"Stop what?" said John innocently, finally wrenching his gaze away from Anastasia, who was standing in Rodney's kitchen, chatting to Teyla as she dished out portions of kitty chow.
"Eyes back in head, buddy. I'm not going to have you sleeping with the staff. It's so... cheesy."
John grinned. "I don't think it's me you need to be worrying about," he said, and off Rodney's baffled expression, nodded his head in Anastasia's direction. She was touching Teyla's arm and giggling, while Teyla was flashing that polite, gentle smile that her bandmates recognized all too well.
"Are you serious?" whined Rodney. "Damn."
"I always thought it was weird she never tried to hit on me," John mused, not at all upset by the distribution of the cat-sitter's affections. His brain was probably going to a very happy place.
"Oh please," groaned Elizabeth, looking over from the kitten batting at her finger. "You're horrible."
"You put up with me," John shrugged.
Elizabeth didn't answer that, just turned her attention to their keyboardist. "So, Rodney, what are their names?"
"Well, the gray one with white feet is Andy, the gray one with gray feet is John, the black one is Roger, and the one that looks like Nick is Nick Rhodes Jr." Rodney sniffed. "This one's actually a boy."
At this, Teyla giggled into her hand, but John was still focusing on the names. "You named one of your cats after me?" he said, sounding oddly touched.
"What?" cried Rodney, scandalized, "No. They're the Taylors."
"Huh?" said John.
Rodney rolled his eyes as if John's very existence offended him. "Andy Taylor, John Taylor, Roger Taylor..."
"You named the kittens after the other members of Duran Duran?" Teyla figured it out first, her face distorted in the expression she usually used when she thought her bandmates were from another planet.
"That's kinda sick, Rodney," John said. "If I found out some whackjob was naming his cat after me..."
"Okay, ten seconds ago, you thought that, and you were proud," Rodney said.
"I wasn't proud. I was just... amused. And I, at least, know you."
"That makes it stranger," Ronon said bluntly.
"Yeah," John said. Obviously desperate to change the subject, he said, "So really, what are you going to do with them? You can't keep them, and they're sure as hell not going on our bus."
"We have two buses next time," Teyla pointed out. "Perhaps you and Rodney could be on separate ones."
"I'm sure that'd be helpful to all of us," said Elizabeth with a knowing smile.
"Sure, you laugh now, but you'll be singing a different tune when you get stuck in the cat hair factory, and Ronon and I are just kicking back on our delightful sneeze-free bus."
Teyla and Elizabeth exchanged a look in which John tasted satisfaction and Rodney defeat.
"I can only take one of the kittens," Anastasia said by way of apology, scooping John Taylor up from where he was attempting to attack John Sheppard's shoes.
"John is right; I am allergic," Teyla said, which made Anastasia's expression sour a little.
Rodney turned an imploring gaze to the group's kind-hearted bassist, but Elizabeth only shook her head. "Ronon and I are dog people, remember?"
"Oh. Yes. Them."
"Hey, just for that, I'm not taking one, either," John said.
Rodney frowned at him. "You're not a dog person."
"No. I wasn't going to do it anyway, but now I have an excuse."
"John," Elizabeth said warningly.
"What," he dismissed, "I'm taking a stand on your behalf. Some might call that noble."
"I'd just call it petulant," Rodney said. "Thanks a lot."
"Tell you what, I'll come up some of my... friends, I'm sure they'd be interested in taking a cat, especially if it's a Rodney McKay cat."
"And by 'friends' you mean 'conquests you are trying to appease because they don't seem to realize you have no plans on having a serious relationship ever'?" said Rodney.
"Mouthful," said Ronon.
"I do so plan on having a serious relationship," John said. "I'm just working on my career right now. Yours, too, for that matter, so you can step off your high horse."
"Boys," said Elizabeth calmly. "Back to your corners, please. We're talking about kittens, not trying to measure each other's worth."
"Yes," agreed Teyla, "I do not want to have yet another conversation about John's habits."
"I do not—" John began hotly, but Ronon leaned over and whacked him on the back of the head.
"Yes you do. Now shut up."
When they looked over, Rodney was sitting with Andy and Nick Rhodes Jr. wrestling in his lap, John trying to jump off his shoulder, and Roger sticking his head up Rodney's pant leg. "We're starting the second leg of the tour at the end of the month," he said, extracting Roger only to find the kitten had his sock in its mouth. Rodney looked at the hungry cat mournfully. "What the hell am I going to do?"
"Hello, I'm Teyla Emmagen."
"And I'm Rodney McKay."
"We're from the band Lantean—"
"—and we'd like to tell you about the importance of spaying or neutering your pets."
On Rodney's massive couch, John leaned over and poked Teyla. "Thought you were allergic," he said, nodding his head at the PSA on the screen, where Nick Rhodes (the first) was sitting on her thighs, obligingly letting her stroke his head.
"I am on medication," she said. "It is a favor to Rodney."
On screen, Rodney was urging, "You need to get it done early before it causes unwanted problems." Rodney didn't like that shirt, he thought it made him look bloated, but Katie had insisted it made his eyes pop.
In the media room, the real Rodney turned to John and said, "John, I wanted to thank you for your help finding homes for the Taylors."
John goggled, which Rodney felt was unnecessary. "Did you just thank me? And admit that I helped you?"
"Apparently, you're not completely useless," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. Forget about his on-stage persona, off-stage, John was a total drama queen. And yet he still had a disturbing number of fanlistings dedicated to him. "Way to go." He flashed John a sarcastic thumbs up.
"Seriously," said Elizabeth pleadingly, "can't we go just one day?"
"Sorry, Liz," said John cheerfully, although Rodney didn't think he sounded particularly sorry at all. He glanced over at Rodney. "So, McKay, in all the hoopla, did you actually get Nick fixed?"