Baby Blues

Oct. 7th, 2012 08:28 pm
genakoma: golden fro (Default)
NC17, babyfic
SGA, DW xover


…and I know you said if she’s not running a fever of 38 degrees she doesn’t need the doctor, but there’s definitely something wrong and our doctor is a five minute walk away, so… Also, John is worried sick- he has this constipated look on his face all the time and he’s accusing me of not caring about Sable. Last night when he brought her to bed I didn’t even kick them out. Yes, yes, you said if I ever want more sex I’d have to put my foot down, but he shoved her at me… and her face was all red and puffy and wet and she was shaking.

Anyway, I’m late for the daycare drop. We ARE taking her today! I hope.

Wish me luck,

P.S. You’d better start sending me those prime parenting tips you’ve been bragging about. So far your advice has been mediocre at best!

He pushed send and cued the email for the noon dial up to earth, hoping Jeannie would have more sage advice for him on parenting and dealing with an over-protective father. Rodney rolled his eyes in exasperation, even though he found an anxious John Sheppard quite endearing. He listened as the man paced from one room to the next, finally stopping John when he came back from the baby room, baby and diaper bag strapped on. John stopped suddenly, made a funny face then detached Sable and laid her down on the couch. Rodney looked up with a sigh when John started rooting through the bag.

“What are you doing? Let’s go,” Rodney whined.

“I- I just thought she might need some extra diapers and an extra change of clothes since she’s been kind of sick lately and all… maybe we should watch her for a couple-“

“John.” Rodney said in a calm, warning voice.

“Hours, Rodney. Just until this afternoon. She’s not having a good day. Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

“Her day hasn’t even started yet. Yesterday you said she was too gassy, the day before she was spitting up- which babies are supposed to do! What now?” Rodney complained, wondering if they’d ever get to have adult time again.

“Check this out,” John said, pulling back Sable’s diaper to reveal something that looked like mucus and spicy mustard. The fumes made Rodney wonder if something crawled inside their innocent baby girl and died then liquefied. Rodney’s eyes watered and he felt moisture in the back of his throat.

“Oh my god! That has got to make the rash even worse,” Rodney groaned in sympathy and disgust.

“This is what I’m saying,” John agreed. He continued cleaning Sable, talking to her in whispers and promising to not let her out of his sight. She mostly ignored John in favor of playing with his dog tags. When John picked her up and turned around, he saw Rodney standing with the diaper bag and a separate bottle bag. “Rodney! You saw how sick she is,” John said, feeling more than a little betrayed.

“The thing is, Keller seems to think Sable is just fine-“

“No. She thinks she might be eating too much, or that we need a different nipple for the bottles, or-or”

Rodney frowned, pulling John to the door and rubbing Sable’s soft, wild tufts of dark hair. “She meant it could be any number of things, but it’s not serious. Besides, Jeannie said if she doesn’t have some outrageous fever, she’ probably alright, John. Face it, there are always going to be little problems, but life goes on.” Rodney kissed John on the cheek just as the door swished open. He pushed the worried father into the hallway and braced himself for one last objection when John huffed in frustration.

“At least let us take her to breakfast. We can see how’s she’s feeling,” John explained. Rodney, naturally, gave in.

“Breakfast. But she’s going to daycare, John,” Rodney said.


At the mess, John pushed scrambled eggs and links across his plate and totally neglected his fruit cup as he watched Torren smile and pat Sable’s leg. Despite Teyla’s soothing cooing and shushing, Sable continued to become agitated until she squirmed away, rubbing tiny fists at her reddened face in frustration. “Is she hungry, John?” Teyla wondered.

“No. She ate about an hour ago. She had a tummy ache, but I thought she was feeling better,” he worried, holding his hands out for his daughter over the table.

“I am sorry Sable has been having so much trouble lately, John. If there is anything I can do, please let me know,” Teyla looked at both men then to her own son who babbled something and pointed at Sable. Teyla just smiled and kissed him on the head. “Eat your food, Torren, we are late,” she said.

“Can you be late for daycare? I mean, basically you’re saying the babysitter can work a little bit less but get paid just as much.” John joked but nobody laughed.

“Martha is a professional child care specialist, John. She has a schedule of activities and Torren is about to miss the good morning songs,” Teyla explained.

“We like ‘Yo Gabba Gabba’,” Ronon added from where he sat, silently sympathizing with his friends as he scarfed down his bacon and eggs even though he didn’t understand why Sheppard was so fearful of letting the child out of his sight. He hadn’t brought Melora and Dexin to breakfast because Melora was friends with Martha’s niece, Keisha. The girls did almost everything together including breakfast.

“Okay, okay, I get it! C’mon, Rodney. Let’s go before she misses the good morning songs,” John mocked, but Teyla just inclined her head towards Rodney and smiled. They all left the mess hall and walked the corridors to the daycare rooms. Even Ronon walked with Teyla since they had PT and the daycare was on the way to the gym. Torren ran down the halls, knowing exactly where to go; Teyla’s avoidance of cooking meant he ate breakfast and dinner in the mess and had been walking this path for over six months. John started to drag his feet and Rodney was determined not to say anything. He laced one arm with John’s and whispered in his ear.

“This’ll be great. Meet me in your office at noon,” Rodney ordered.

“I guess, if everything goes alright-“

“No, John. Promise me you’ll give this a try.” Rodney stopped walking down the hall from the daycare and John turned to face him.

“I did! What do you think I’m doing,” John said.

“Promise me you’ll leave her there until five, like we said, John.”

“Rodney, but it’s her first day... Okay.” John agreed. They reached the door where Ronon stood like a guard, to the side so he couldn’t be seen by the half dozen little toddlers wobbling around who, led by Dexin, would invariably mistake him for a living jungle gym. Teyla was saying goodbye to Torren when John went into his detailed explanation about how to care for his little girl and what every cry meant. Martha was 5’4, brown-skinned and ponytailed with thick, straight black hair that sat like a pom-pom at the top of her head. She took a grumpy Sable from John’s arms and he was ashamed at how relieved he felt because Sable was making ominous sounds and John had already decided that maybe it’d be okay to let Sable stay in daycare until she cried herself to sleep. John could take it from there. Martha heard the noises, but a quick smell and peek told her Sable was fed and dry. She bounced Sable as she twisted her torso in a quick rocking motion and it seemed to calm Sable down. “Are you going to remember all this?“ John slowed down and stared at the little lady who made funny faces in response to John’s lengthy instructions. But Martha only had eyes for the unhappy baby as she poked out her lip and shook her head which interested Sable just enough to gain her awed attention. Sable stopped mewling and started to reach for the face in front of her that now held a happily surprised expression. “Hey! What did you do?” John wondered, half amazed and half envious at Martha’s ease in calming Sable down. He knew how to make faces at her; that was his trick, but he hadn’t thought to do it when Sable was cranky and about to explode.

When Sable was upset, John was flustered. Rodney had figured out how to become sarcastic, cranky, and patiently sympathetic after the first two weeks of fatherhood, but all John could ever manage was sheer happiness or an overwhelming wave of fear and anxiety. He could feel his daughter’s anguish and frustration and he wanted them gone immediately. It was as if Sable’s every whimper and cry grated on John’s nerves and played with his emotions. If that weren’t bad enough, John could feel Atlantis respond to his unhappy daughter and the city sent annoying little personal alerts to John, her favorite son, that felt like static shock attacks across his skin. He couldn’t explain it so he didn’t sound crazy, but John knew Rodney understood; nobody else mattered. That was why he didn’t say a word when Rodney pulled him backward towards the door.

“We’ll see you in eight hours,” Rodney waved happily but then stopped in the doorway. “Oh, she gets hungry lately so she’ll need a bottle and a half. Most people would probably give her just one bottle, but-“

“I thought we were leaving,” John smiled and Rodney blushed as John looked at Martha, “Call us if you need anything.”

“Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard, I’m sure we’ll be fine. See you this evening,” she smiled and turned quickly to attend to Dexin who was jumping around and throwing wooden blocks into the empty playroom with more force than a toddler should be able to muster.

“She’ll be fine, John. Now go do… colonel things.” Rodney demanded, pushing John into a transporter.


When John made it to his office at 11:45, he had a minor headache. Sable had been crying off and on for the last thirty minutes since Martha had fed her. John was sick to his stomach but he didn’t want to have to tell Rodney he was too ill for a nooner. He kicked his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his plush chair that was nicer than the one in Woolsey’s office. John closed his eyes and meditated like Teyla had taught him to, but all he could see was Sable’s screaming face.

“Hey,” Rodney swept in, startling John and smiling widely as John thought the door closed and locked.

“Hey,” John grinned, sitting up then thinking he should stand but Rodney came around the desk and pushed him back down.

“No. Sit. This is for you,” he explained, kneeling down and unbuckling John’s BDUs with smirk. “You’ve been so worried lately; I just want to help you relax,” Rodney explained, rubbing John’s cock through the soft, black boxer briefs.

“Fuck, yeah,” John moaned, leaning back in his chair and lifting his hips, urging Rodney to pull John’s pants down below his ass. Rodney’s smile distorted with the head of John’s cock filling his mouth, but it was definitely there because Rodney knew John wanted to be fucked, even if it was just with Rodney’s finger. He smiled as he sucked down John’s stiffness, promising to fuck John soon. For now, Rodney took his time, gripping tightly at the base and rubbing up and down as his mouth teased at the slit. It felt good but John’s head hurt and he wanted to come. “Finish it… Rod-ney.” He begged.

“Not so fast, in a voice that would normally send a ripple of excitement up John’s back. Now, however, it just frustrated John even more.

“I appreciate it but my head hurts, Rodney,” John panted and whined and Rodney froze. A few seconds later, John was groaning and jerking his come into Rodney’s hand. John thought it was weird because Rodney usually liked to swallow when he was into it and it had seemed like Rodney was into it to John. He quickly put it out of his mind and focused on his heart which was beating like a brass band behind John’s eyes. Out of the corner of his half-closed eyes, John noticed Rodney stand and adjust himself before walking to the other side of the desk.

“I certainly hope you’re feeling better tonight,” Rodney huffs, a little put out and embarrassed that he basically just got turned down mid blow-job.

“Yeah, buddy. I’m sorry, I just… It was good, but when I saw you were going to take your time…” John thought of saying it was Sable who was feeling bad, but that wouldn’t help matters at all. So he just sighed, “Rain check, Rodney.”


Later, when John was still feeling sick, he gave up and picked up Sable from Martha who didn’t look surprised. She packed up Sable’s stuff and handed the fussy girl over with an understanding smile. “She did fine, John,” she said, refusing to call him colonel since she didn’t want him to think he was in charge in their relationship. Martha was English and Atlantis was a civilian run colony. She would only defer to Colonel Sheppard in military situations.

“Right, if by ‘good’ you mean she cried all morning,” John said, sounding like he was sorry for the young lady with all the little rugrats who were… “Where are the kids?” John asked, noticing it was quiet and he didn’t see anyone around.

“Nap time. Sable’s about to go down if you want to leave her a few more hours,” Martha offered, but John shook his head.

“I’m good with nap time. It’s all those other times,” John joked, taking Sable and almost running out the door.


A few minutes after six, Rodney sauntered in, carrying an apple and a turkey sandwich. “I went to check on Sable around four. I thought I’d bring her home early after Lorne told me you went home to sulk!”

“I told him I was feeling sick!” John growled.

“Imagine my surprise when Martha tells me you picked Sable up hours before!”

“I can explain, Rodney. Martha is okay, but I just don’t think Sable’s ready for daycare.”

“You promised, John”

“But she cried all day, Rodney and I was just sitting at home; I had to get her.” John whispered as he rocked Sable into a fitful sleep.

“Yeah. Well, it was her first day. Tomorrow will be better,” Rodney said, ignoring the scowl that earned from John and resigning himself to the probability of skipping the dirty fuck he had planned to throw the colonel once Sable was down for the night.

The next day, Rodney notified John that he would be monitoring John’s movements all day. What he didn’t say was that he was worried about John and he was worried about Sable because he trusted John’s instincts. Instead, Rodney also watched the daycare on one of his laptops. He became increasingly agitated when it came time for Sable’s second feeding and Martha didn’t give her a second bottle. Not once did Martha use the rash cream John gave explicit instructions for and Sable was doing a lot of crying. She cried during belly time, on the mat with the toys hanging above her, and during game time until she stole someone’s teething ring and was content for ten minutes. Rodney was so relieved to see Sable content that he didn’t even mind the germs.

At 5pm, Rodney was angered by the inefficiency of supposedly professional childcare workers. He had a survey of questions for Martha to answer, starting with if she were licensed and if that involved more than paying for a piece of paper in the UK and if she made it a habit to completely disregard the parents’ directions in care for their children. When he got there the first thing he saw as the doors slid open was John talking to Martha as she rocked Sable and rubbed her back.

“You should try it, John. I already spoke to Keller since the regular supply only comes monthly but medical supplies have priority. Try something hydrolyzed-“

“Shut up, you child abuser!” Rodney stormed in. “I saw you starving her and not giving her the medically prescribed cream! I’m telling all the parents-“

“Rodney. Let’s just go, okay?”

“Go? Did you hear me, John? She didn’t feed Sable like I told her and she didn’t even give our child her medicine! You should shoot her!” John paused and quirked a brow at Rodney who sighed and tried again. “You should hit her,” which still left John staring at him disapprovingly so Rodney gave in. “You should have Teyla hit her. Hard.” Rodney decided even though he instinctively felt the parents should be doing the avenging. She was John’s daughter and if John wouldn’t hit the lady abusing Sable, Rodney would. He walked the few steps to Martha with a purpose John understood seconds before Rodney through his punch. Martha ducked, clutching Sable tightly to her breast, looking surprised.

“Dr. McKay!” She gasped, wide eyed, but Rodney wasn’t responding as much as he was spitting strings of illogical curses towards her, accompanied by the curious stares of young children. John, who had the baby bag but not the baby, caught Teyla’s eye as he dragged Rodney out of the door.

“Give me my baby! Give me- Sable! John!” Rodney yelled once the doors closed and John had him pushed against the opposite wall.

“We’re going to dinner, Rodney. Teyla will bring Sable. Sable is fine, Rodney- no thanks to you.” John assured, draping his arm around Rodney’s shoulders and forcing Rodney to walk to the mess. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m more concerned that you just tried to hit a girl or that you just tried to hit a girl that was holding your daughter.” John paused here and Rodney shrugged silently, admitting that he’d gone a bit crazy back there. John took this as his cue to continue educating his baby’s daddy. “Martha, who’s a doctor by the way, was just telling me that she’s seen baby’s like Sable before. She thinks Sable is probably allergic to the milk and we should switch. She says it’ll probably clear up the rashes and eczema and all the crying. She says Sable is having a hard time digesting the milk and we should try formula like the one we gave her the first few days.” John went on, babbling like he hardly ever did, allowing Rodney a few minutes to calm down. When they arrived at the cafeteria they had to wait in line. Rodney was quiet but remained tense until John motioned Teyla forward when she walked in with Sable in her arms and Torren running behind her, darting around Lantean legs like they were trees in a human forest. When he reached John, he tackled the hard, skinny legs and laughed and squeezed until he was lifted up and face to face with his uncle John. Torren took this as unspoken permission to play with John’s funny hair. Torren looked at Rodney who was taking his baby from Torren’s mommy. His uncle Rodney looked mad. Sometimes Torren laughed when Uncle Rodney got mad but not now. He touched Rodney’s face.

“Abo,” Torren said, pointing to Sable.

“Yes, yes, she’s okay. Your Uncle Rodney got a little out of control. I thought you were supposed to protect her.” Rodney teased, tickling Torren playfully. Teyla smiled, glad Rodney had calmed down so quickly.

“I think Martha would like to hear that, Rodney.” Teyla added. Rodney grimaced, thinking ‘never in a million years,’ but he wasn’t stupid enough to say it to Teyla. Privately, Rodney knew his lab assistants made perfectly good babysitters.

“I’m starving,” was all Rodney said, moving forward in line.


Sep. 26th, 2012 07:05 pm
genakoma: golden fro (Default)
McKay/Sheppard, babyfic
Luck of Atlantis series
Guesswork Podfic, 16:29

McKay and Sheppard stumbled back home to what Sheppard now called their double-wide even though he only did this in front of Ronon and Teyla who had no idea what he was talking about. It was dark and they both fell into bed with their clothes on, wanting to be ready to rescue their daughter at a moment’s notice. Rodney reclined on the bed, his back bolstered by pillows so that he was sitting up.

“Hey! How come I never get any pillows?”

“You don’t need pillows,” Rodney said, tapping the left side of his chest. John smirked in the darkness, crawling into bed and resting his head against Rodney. “Whenever I wake up, you’re either lying flat on the bed or on me,” Rodney complains but the caress of his fingers in John’s hair and along his spine says Rodney doesn’t mind at all. He mutters about how John should pick the name but Rodney reserves the power to veto.

“Leia” John suggests in the darkness.

“Pretty, but way too obvious.”

“What about naming her after Weir?” John said.

“Hmmm. Good idea, even if Katherine is a little traditional for my tastes… I guess we should name her after her mother if we’re honoring fallen expedition members,” Rodney thinks aloud.

“Good point. I like Katelyn,” John murmured then added, “What’s her first name?”

“Ripley?” Rodney said.

“Nice, but let’s not set her up to battle killer aliens for a living.”


“Rodney, I like Battlestart Galactica as much as the next guy, but no.”

“Well, I don’t hear you giving any better suggestions!”


“Yuck,” Rodney dismissed.


“Better, but I refuse to give her a name from Star Trek. If we have to go with a fan name, I’d prefer something from a better fandom,” Rodney said, not caring if he sounded like a snob because, on Atlantis, everyone would know exactly where the name came from and he’d be damned if his colleagues thought he was a trekkie.


“Okay, I’ll give you points for Uhura since classic Trek is far more respectable, but no,” Rodney decided.


“Connor or Jane Smith?”

“Connor, of course,” John clarified indignantly.

“What was I thinking? It would be the one who can cock a shot gun one-handed. Doesn’t matter; too plain,” Rodney said.

“Pris,” John said, starting to think it didn’t matter what he said, Rodney would find a way to say no. John knew that, in the end, Rodney would pick the name; this was just a guessing game they played to see if he could figure out what Rodney wanted.

“Didn’t she crush a man’s skull with her thighs?”

“Yeah.” John clearly thinks this is a selling point.

“No!” Rodney is appalled.


“No comment.”


“Don’t make me shoot you, Colonel.”

“Then you make suggestions while I shoot you down; I’m doing all the work here, McKay!”

“I chose Katelyn; you choose the first name,” Rodney said, kind of lamely since Katelyn was mostly a joint decision and he just wanted Sheppard to feel like this was his child too, as if naming her would make him more responsible somehow.

“Aeryn,” Sheppard said with a sigh.

“I like it… maybe,” Rodney said, obviously not convinced.

“Leia. She’ll be the princess of Atlantis, Rodney; it’s perfect,” John yawned, forgetting his plan to stay awake.

Rodney, who loved Star Wars, thought it was kind of corny, but he didn’t say so. He drifted off to sleep and woke the next morning with an arm anchored across his waist and lips moving against his side. “Hmmm?” Rodney murmured, rubbing his eyes and remembering the night before. “Oh my god! Why didn’t they call us? She has to be hungry by now,” Rodney bolted up, knocking John to the side as he jumped out of bed.

“I’m sure they fed her, Rodney. Calm down. Shower. Let’s get breakfast before we get her,” John said, wondering if he should just start calling her Katelyn.

Rodney insisted they stop by the infirmary on their way to breakfast just to make sure everything was alright. They found Dr. Keller looking over her vitals in the nursery as the baby slept peacefully. “Hey dads, she’s still out but her next feeding should be in about an hour if you want to come back and get her then.” John walked up to the bassinet to get a closer look.

“Hey,” John whispered but he was careful not to touch since Dr. Keller watched him like a hawk. Rodney stared at the helpless little person and his heart thudded like it would jump out of his chest.

“Can she come home? Being in the infirmary can’t be good for someone so tiny with an undeveloped immune system. Can you imagine all the alien viruses she’s risking just by breathing this air? Can we take her home now?” Rodney demanded and Keller just grinned. Sheppard was touching the drawstring at the bottom of the tiny smock, searching for the ten toes he was almost certain he counted a few hours ago.

“Yep. Everything looks good. If you’re ready for her, I’ll release after her next feeding,” she said, ushering them out the room when it looked like Sheppard was about to wake his daughter. “Of course, I’ll need a name for the records,” she smiled, waiting with wide eyes as Sheppard rolled his eyes and McKay’s chin jutted in the air stubbornly.

“Leia Katelyn Sheppard,” John said, defiantly, just to get a rise out of McKay.

“Over my dead body-“

“Boys, go argue and shout someplace else,” Keller said, pushing them out the infirmary.


“Why not?”

“Because it’s corny, Colonel,” McKay said, more than a little exasperated, as Teyla and Ronon joined them at the table, wisely not asking questions but sharing an amused look at their friends’ antics.

“Ronon,” John said, “What do you think of the name, Leia?”

“It’s fine.”

“There. See? It’s fine,” John said.

“Exactly. Why pick a name that’s just ‘fine’? This is the princess of Atlantis- you said so yourself! Besides, I hardly think Conan should get a vote, no offense,” Rodney gave Ronon a condescending smile and the Satedan growled in response, startling the scientist.

“None taken,” he said, pulling a knife from some hidden pocket in his vest and plunging toward McKay, spearing and stealing his pancakes. Rodney squeaked in fear and didn’t even object. “On Sateda, children are named when they are born; you look into their eyes and see their future. This allows you to pick the right name,” Ronon explained, surprised that the Earth customs were so unenlightened. Rodney would’ve made fun of Ronon’s mystical hocus pocus, but the Satedan seemed so certain of this custom and Rodney was thrown since they’d been arguing for hours and were no closer to a name than when they first started.

“Well,” Sheppard announced, looking at Rodney in case Rodney wanted to tell them, but Rodney just looked confused, “she was born this morning, but mostly her eyes have been closed so…” he grinned at Ronon. “Maybe you can look into them and tell us what her name should be ‘cause I don’t think Keller’s going to release her if we don’t give a name for the records.” Teyla and Ronon smiled, recognizing the offer to come see the infant for what it was.

“I’d be honored,” Ronon said.

“Congratulations, John, Rodney,” Teyla said touching foreheads with both men and whispering in Rodney’s ear, “You will be an excellent parent.” She smiled and returned to her seat, leaving Rodney staring at her as if he wanted to ask if she were serious. She nodded her silent answer to his unspoken question.


“Perfect timing; she just opened her eyes,” Keller said as the team eagerly approached the still quiet infant but a nurse pulled Sheppard and McKay to the side to show them how to prepare a bottle.

Ronon grinned happily. “She has your hair, Sheppard,” he said, brushing his fingers along the fine shock of dark hair that stuck out in all directions. When she started to whimper, sucking on her fist, Teyla picked her up and rocked her gently, shushing her hungry complaints and smiling when the baby nuzzled and mouthed at her breast.

“I’m sorry, little one; that well is dry,” Teyla said softly, offering her fingertip as a pacifier and looking up to see where the parents were. John was holding out his hands expectantly and Teyla smiled, handing the baby over. Little cries escalated quickly and John tried to rock his child as expertly as Teyla. He held out his hand for the bottle and Rodney hesitated, wanting to say he made it so he should get to feed her. John, who could see Rodney’s childish logic, gave him a look which had Rodney shamefaced and handing over the bottle in seconds. Her eyes were closed as she emptied the bottle and Rodney made a comment about sleep eating to which Teyla smiled and said, “New babies sleep a lot, but they are still a lot of work.” Then John burped her and before she could drift off to sleep, Ronon took her in his arms and whispered softly to her.

“This child will be gifted. She will learn from the greatest minds, but her true talent will be all her own. She will be the jewel of her people and a profit to all who possess her,” Ronon decreed in a hushed tone, smiling down at the bright blue eyes.

“I could’ve told you that,” Rodney muttered.

“So what do you think we should name her?” John asked, figuring Rodney wouldn’t have the nerve to tell Ronon his idea was stupid.

“The name is yours to choose; I can only give insight.” Ronon handed the child to John who looked into her wide eyes.

“Hey, blue eyes,” John whispered, “ apparently you’re gonna be pretty smart-“

“As if there was any doubt,” Rodney preened.

John continued. “And you’ll have the best teachers in two galaxies, and everyone will love you, and want you on their team.” John looked at Rodney expectantly, drawing a blank.

“Well, okay, I probably wouldn’t have guessed the last part, although, in my defense, that’s your interpretation of what Conan said. Oh! What about Marguerite of Sabliere? It’s an appropriate namesake because-“

“Yeah, I get it McKay, but I’m not calling my daughter Margie. Kids will call her large Marge.”

“She will not be fat!” Rodney insisted.

“It won’t matter; kids are cruel” John said, rocking their little girl and cooing something to her that Rodney couldn’t quite make out. When she looked up at him and let out a tired little sigh before closing her eyes, John decided. “Sable,” he told Rodney who just nodded and smiled, rubbing at her little belly.

“Sable Katelyn Sheppard,” Rodney said, looking at Dr. Keller.

“Sheppard?” John smiled, looking at Rodney. “I thought you wanted little McKay’s running around.”

“She’s still a little McKay; it’s all in the genes. Besides, now that declassification is underway, I’ll be getting multiple Nobels and god knows what other awards and commendations. What kid wants to live up to that?”


genakoma: golden fro (Default)

October 2012



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