Title: Leave
Author: joran
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis, McKay/Sheppard
Notes: Any views expressed about Canada are not the views of the author or McKay, who both think Canada is awesome. Rated G for Schmoop. For picfor1000.
Summary: McKay takes Sheppard home.



* * *

"You know..." McKay said.

Sheppard had the feeling this wasn't going to go well. He plunged forward anyway. "I know what?"

"I don't actually like Canada."

"You don't like... Canada." Sheppard took a moment to look around and let the shock travel through him. The McKay family estate, such as it was, was quaint and peaceful, but nothing that could be called offensive. The neighbor's laundry blew in a breeze. The air carried a hint of autumn coldness. The clothes on the line were the only contrast to the vibrant orange that surrounded them.

"Well, who would, really?"

"Canadians?"

This was McKay's boyhood home, so Sheppard wasn't sure why McKay being unhappy here would surprise him. McKay not liking anything wouldn't surprise him, so he knew the right thing to say. He had just hoped for better for McKay's sake.

He rubbed his hands together. "Surprise, surprise."

McKay turned on him. "What does that mean?"

"You not liking something. I mean, you are Rodney." Sheppard offered his boldest smile.

McKay's face scrunched into an agitated squint, the face he made when he had too many thoughts all at once. Sheppard could see McKay filtering through them, using some computer-brain weighting algorithm. Probably thinking of the best way to insult him. McKay finally said, "I was just happier in Colorado. Dryer air. For my sinuses."

"Really."

"Yes." McKay inhaled. "See? Clogged already."

Sheppard folded his arms. "I mean, you were happy in Colorado?"

"Of course. I was at the top of my field--"

"Second."

"--Do you have to bring that up now? Top of my field. Respected job. Research. Accolades. My cat..."

"So, you were happy."

Sheppard was looking past McKay, at the treeline. He never really noticed how alien Atlantis was until he was back on Earth. Sure, the air and sunlight changed with the planet's rotation, and there were trade winds and tidal forces, and Sheppard could almost predict the weather based on the amount of salt he smelled in the air each morning. But the feeling that he was home was powerful now, even though he'd never been to Canada. He wanted to smack McKay for ruining his moment, but he settled for not looking at him.

"Not really." McKay glanced around the yard. He sighed, a heavy, wheezing sound that came from his chest. "Hey, do you think that's maybe why I've become so patriotic? Promoting my idealistic alternative to the shit that goes on in Colorado?" He caught himself. "See? That makes me feel better."

Sheppard put his hands on McKay's shoulders. "Rodney. Where are you happy?"

"Atlantis. Well, less unhappy. I mean... "

"That's when you met me." Sheppard squeezed McKay's shoulders.

"Yes. That's right. Could we please make this a little more about your ego, while I'm coming face to face with my childhood demons?" McKay gestured at his surroundings. It was a credit to his field work in the last year that he was able to shrug under the weight of Sheppard's arms. Sheppard felt the muscles under his fingers, remembered what it was like the night before seeing them flexing under a soft layer of fat and skin.

"I'm sorry, Rodney," Sheppard said, giving him a lazy smile. "Please. Share your pain."

McKay turned around, facing the yard again. Sheppard's hands slid along his back and settled again on his shoulders. "My parents," McKay started, "kind of sucked."

"Whose didn't?" Sheppard stepped closer. His hands curled around McKay's chest. He grasped his wrists and formed a loop. The air seemed colder, and McKay's warmth was a temptation. He smelled... not at all like pumpkin spice or maple leaves. He smelled like Atlantis. Like ocean. Sheppard rested his chin on McKay's shoulder and inhaled.

"Well, exactly. Everybody's childhood sucked. It doesn't make me special. La de da. My parents blamed me for... things. They made failing mean... more than it should mean to a child. Maybe. Like I know anything about children," McKay said. He snorted.

"And Jeannie?"

"It was different. A different kind of crap. Why'd we come here?"

"It was my idea," Sheppard said.

"Good call, space cowboy."

"I wanted..." Sheppard said, and stopped. He closed his eyes, so that McKay's heat and scent were the only things he could sense. This was going to sound stupid, he told himself. Probably as stupid as coming to Canada, when they both had enough leave and combat pay to go to Maui and get very drunk.

McKay squirmed against his arms, turned around, and poked him in the chest. "What did you want?"

"You with your red flag on your uniform and your disdain and... I wanted to see what the big fucking deal was. I wanted to be a part of something you felt so highly about."

"So you were jealous?"

"I didn't say--"

"Of Canada?" McKay laughed. He had an ugly, shrill laugh that Sheppard, Pavlovian in his reasoned love, had learned to provoke. He loved it, especially now, drowning out the leaves that were crackling underfoot. McKay's laughs had as many names as snowfall. Sheppard could interpret every kind.

This particular laugh meant that McKay had caught him being stupid. Damnit. "Look, Rodney--"

McKay covered Sheppard's mouth with his hand. The cold fingers made his two-day stubble straighten to defend his cheeks, which kind of hurt. He tried biting one of McKay's fingertips in retaliation, but McKay knew by now how to dodge his tricks. So he settled for exhaling with a loud, annoyed mffff. McKay held firm and narrowed his eyes. "You want to know where I'm happy, hot shot? Flyboy?"

Sheppard nodded against his hand.

"Antarctica. Greatest technological adventure of my life to that point, and you were there to light it up like a roman candle."

Sheppard grinned. His jaw was starting to hurt. His eyes crinkled, the only thing McKay could see. It was getting difficult to breathe, since McKay kept rubbing his nose with his thumb.

"Every damn achievement since, you've been there. With your stupid gene. So where am I happy? I'm happy right here." McKay said, and dropped his hand.

Sheppard cracked his jaw and said sarcastically, "Well, I'm happy you're happy."

"Jerk," McKay said, and kissed him.