Fandom: Pairing: SGA: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Concrit: Please. If you spot a typo, please feel free to tell me in comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: AU, crack!fic.
Summary: Rodney is a Psychic to the Stars. John is a soap star who wants to expand his bubble.
Notes: Built on a 300 word comment fic written for yin_again, in May, 2007. I reworked it quite a bit and added to it, so I'm going to claim 733 words as today's contribution to mini_wrimo day 10 (883-150).
John answered the rat-a-tat-tat knock on his front door expecting to take delivery of enough Chinese food for three people. He'd been feeling a bit indecisive when he called and so had ordered one of each of his favorites. He knew from experience that it tasted good cold, even two days old. It also meant that he could put off grocery shopping until at least Thursday.
Unfortunately, when he opened the door, he wasn't greeted by Mai's huge smile and the heavenly aromas of Hot and Sour Soup, Ginger Beef, Szechuan Pork and various other things he'd already forgotten he'd ordered. Instead, there was a stranger on his doorstep, one who glared at him impatiently with intense blue eyes. A surreptitious downward flicker of John's gaze quickly catalogued a crooked mouth, a pair of broad shoulders, and a hand-tailored suit. Probably not a crazy soap opera fan then, but he knew from past encounters that you could never be too careful.
And then the man started talking and John quickly realised that he was crazy, though he still wasn't sure about the 'fan' part of the equation. Usually they asked for autographs on body parts, or offered sex, or claimed to be his - or his character's - long-lost cousin Alma from Dakota City. But this guy was most certainly unique.
"I know you don't know why I'm here, and frankly, neither do I. I didn't exactly plan to make a career out of this. I wanted to study music, but every time I sat down at the piano I got a reading off the damn thing from the last student. Or - and this was so much worse - my music tutor. I had no idea it was even possible to do that with a piccolo. Where was I? Oh, yes, right. So, anyway, school was hell. Every time I touched something or brushed past someone, I learned more than I ever wanted to know." He paused for a millisecond to huff in annoyance, but was off again before John could even think to interrupt. "High school students think about nothing but sex and death, did you know that? It's very unnerving to be bombarded with all that uncensored porn at the age of eight."
John blinked and opened his mouth to speak.
"Yes, yes, I'm getting to that! I had dinner in the same restaurant as your agent last night, Mr Sheppard. Elizabeth Weir is planning to screw you over and give your first precious movie role to a new client - Lorne something, I think. Apparently he's much more amenable to trying out her new couch than you've ever been. She thinks he's more flexible than you, in more ways than one, but..." Rodney looked him up and down with disturbingly intense consideration and then hummed in delight. "Yes, I thought so. I'm amazed you managed to keep that little fact from the barracudas that pass themselves off as the press in this town, let alone the Queen Bitch herself, Elizabeth Weir. That woman can sniff out a scandal faster than the most rabid Hollywood gossip rag reporter."
John blinked some more, his mouth still open, his brain caught in a paralyzing loop of 'Oh, crap. Who told? What is this going to cost me? How do I keep this quiet?'
"Oh, please! I have so much dirt on the big names in this town you're not even in the top one hundred of potential blackmail targets. If I kept a list like that. Which I don't."
It was Rodney's turn to blink.
John got as far as, "Look, buddy, I don't know who you think you…" before he was once again interrupted.
"Yes, yes, right, sorry. Rodney McKay, Psychic to the Stars. Doctor Rodney McKay, actually, not that anyone really cares once they figure out the 'astro' in 'Astrophysics' has absolutely nothing to do with astrology. Idiots. And I know you have a brain hidden under all that hair, so don't bother playing pretty-but-dumb with me."
He spun on one heel to peer eagerly towards the north end of the street, presenting his back - and his nicely shaped backside - to John.
"Ooh, Chinese! Perfect, I'm starving. Did you remember the eggrolls?"
It took fifteen long seconds for Mai's little white Honda, emblazoned with the logo for 'Lu's Happy Dragon', to appear in the distance over McKay's left shoulder. The shoulder and its twin lifted and fell on a weary sigh.
"Believe me, it's just as irritating from this side too. I never get a moment's peace or privacy; there are always the most unexpected things floating around inside my head, trying to get my attention. Okay, you can keep the Hot and Sour Soup to yourself, but I want at least half of the Ginger Beef, and some of the Pak Choi in Oyster Sauce."
John couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up and out at McKay's bizarre, though highly entertaining, ability to carry on a conversation without requiring actual dialogue from anyone else. And then he had the breath knocked out of him by McKay's next words.
"So, can I come in, or shall we let your neighbours hear how I'm going to make you into Hollywood's most unconventional leading man with your new five year career plan?"
Mini-nanowrimo word count: 6134