Title: Jello Shots
Length: <1000 words
Fandom: SG-1, actually, follows "Redemption"
Since the world wasn't ending after all, at least not that day, everyone had gone home and the lights were dim in the SGC cafeteria. That is to say, almost everyone had gone home. Two figures still sat in the cafeteria, jello abandoned, poring over a marbled composition book.
Rodney McKay had never seen a mind like Jonas Quinn's in action and he would have preferred to take the notebook off and study it in the comfort of his own quarters -- except Jonas wouldn't let it go more than two feet from his hands. So Rodney was pretty well stuck there, which was fine, because the SGC had an endless supply of blue jello and it wasn't like the quarters were any great shakes to start with.
Either way, this was some pretty revolutionary stuff and, excepting the unlikely event of an invitation to Sam Carter's house, Rodney had nothing he'd rather be doing.
Jonas Quinn, on the other hand, had seen that stuff before -- he'd written it after all -- and while watching Rodney study his work was a lot less interesting than the Weather Channel, it was also a lot more flattering. Jonas wasn't much into flattery but the very fact that Rodney was there, that he'd been invited to be part of something as important as the Stargate program, meant that he was something special and Jonas wanted to find out what. He knew that it took an awful lot to upset Sam and also to ingest so much blue jello, and he was interested in finding out more.
He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Rodney, who continued to mumble distractedly about quarks and harmonic resonance and something called a Big Mac which was not listed in Jonas's notes. "May I ask a question?" he asked politely.
"Go for it," Rodney said, poking his spoon three inches to the right of the jello cup. Jonas moved the cup into range and folded his hands.
"Are you romantically involved with Major Carter?"
Rodney snorted. "In my dreams," he said with a mouth full of jello. "And I might confess to the occasional fantasy. But no. There's a reason I'm sitting here with you and it's not because I voluntarily turned down a night between Sam Carter's luscious thighs." His eyes glazed over for a second and then he shook his head. "But, uh, no. Why?"
Jonas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Your customs are still confusing to me," he explained reluctantly. "And I have not yet determined how one expresses interest in another person."
"Really?" Rodney asked. "You and -- oh, well. Well, I'm glad you asked, at least, no need making a scene, or really, making a fool of yourself in front of the object of your heart's...anyway." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You want to get out of here?"
"Yes," Jonas said, pleased that he had conveyed his intent and that Rodney had caught on rapidly.
"No, that was me showing you what to say so that when you and she are -- oh." Rodney's mouth dropped open and he did what Colonel O'Neill called a 'double take.' He pointed at Jonas, then at himself and back again. "You want -- and me?"
Jonas nodded. Perhaps Rodney was just as unsure of this mating dance as he was himself.
"Whoa." Rodney stared at him. "Hey! Yes, sure, let's go." He slammed Jonas's notebook closed and knocked over his chair in his haste to stand. He turned around to fumble it vertical and Jonas stood, too.
"I will put away the jello," he said as Rodney knocked over the chair again.
Rodney just grinned goofily and said, so quietly Jonas almost didn't hear him, "Samantha Carter, eat your heart out."