Genre: Pre-slash. Mpreg. (Dear sweet lord I can’t believe I just had to type that…)
Summary: So, they hadn’t meant to make a baby.
So, they hadn’t meant to make a baby. Obviously. Who would seriously be stupid enough – actually mentally deficient enough – to suppose that whilst visiting one of the many random planets Pegasus had to offer, Dr Rodney McKay (genius) and Lt Col John Sheppard (annoying) would mean to make a baby? Y’know. Together. Or at all. But mostly together.
“What did they think they were doing?” shouted McKay on the way back to the puddlejumper, arm flailing expressively.
“Why would they invent a machine like that?” shouted McKay.
“What crazy, asinine circumstances did they ever envisage where a machine like that might actually be A GOOD IDEA or EVEN USEFUL or something that wasn’t INSANELY STUPID AND DANGEROUS?” shouted McKay, flailing the other arm.
“Ancient machines suck,” grumbled Sheppard, carrying the baby.
“Kinda funny, if you ask me,” said Ronon cheerfully, poking a finger at the baby. McKay shot him a poisonous glare.
“Yes, well, nobody did ask you, Ronon. That’s because nobody is interested in what you might have to say.”
“McKay,” said Sheppard warningly, shifting the baby slightly and trying not to think about the fact that he was holding some kind of mutant Sheppard-McKay offspring artificially created on an alien world, because he was pretty sure that didn’t end well in any movie ever made. McKay glared at him too, then at Teyla for good measure, though she had maintained a diplomatic silence ever since they had begun the trudge back to the Stargate.
“I really don’t think NOW is the time for superficial politeness when we have been landed with some kind of DEMON CHILD created by A CRAZY, STUPID ANCIENT MACHINE – and to be honest I’ve been having my doubts about some of the people working on these things because seriously who even thinks about creating the technology necessary to effect… Actually, it’s pretty interesting when you think about it.” His voice took on a professorial tone. “I imagine what they did was to…”
“I think he has Sheppard’s ears,” said Ronon.
They all stopped and looked at the baby’s ears, and then compared them to Sheppard’s.
“Huh,” said Sheppard.
“I believe you are correct,” said Teyla.
McKay peered at the baby. “Maybe we should get Carson to do a full DNA work-up of it,” he said consideringly. “It’d be fascinating to compare our genetic markers. See what they did. After all,” and his chest swelled a bit, “any kid of mine would be pretty special, I think we’d all have to agree.”
His team members stared at him. After a moment, McKay’s chest returned to its usual state. He waved a hand. “Yes, well, shouldn’t we be getting back? With… it.”
“It is a boy, Rodney,” said Teyla, reprovingly.
“Mmhmmhmm,” said Rodney, and strode off manfully.
And it should be obvious – even to the meanest intelligence – that a baby couldn’t be kept on Atlantis, especially when its parents – actually, that word is absurdly emotive, and under the circumstances something like “progenitors” might be better, or maybe “DNA donors” – were the Chief Science Officer and Military Commander.
“I was thinking something more like Bob,” said Sheppard, leaning against the worktable in the physics lab.
“I thought you named that Wraith, Bob,” said McKay spitefully, tapping furiously on his laptop, and giving up on his attempt to ignore the naming conversation Sheppard was having with Zelenka.
“That is true; you did,” said Zelenka regretfully. “What about Milos?”
Sheppard seemed to be giving that some thought, which, McKay discovered, was The Final Straw.
“We’re not calling it Milos!” he shouted, abandoning the laptop. “We’re not calling it Bob or Steve or Todd, or any of your other stupid Wraith names! We’re not calling it…” He calmed down suddenly, unexpectedly, uncomfortably. “We’re not calling it anything, because we’re sending it to Earth, because that is an eminently sensible plan, because we are two men who are very busy and very important – well, I’m very busy and important, and Sheppard does stuff too – and we cannot look after some ridiculously tiny baby even if he does have Sheppard’s stupid ears and Sheppard’s stupid hair, and hopefully my amazingly enormous brain to counteract those deficiencies.”
Sheppard and Zelenka stared at him.
Zelenka (leaving): “I think now is good time to…”
Sheppard (frowning): “My ears aren’t stupid.”
McKay sighed and sat down. “You look like an elf,” he said, but his heart wasn’t in it, and Sheppard sat next to him and bumped shoulders companionably.
Yes, yes, yes: many people – including the SGC and IOA, but really, who’s going to listen to them? – had expressed the utterly half-witted notion that the baby should be sent back to Earth, but what about all of those “scientific” theories about children being raised by a village and… whatnot. Benjamin Albert Lastname-still-being-debated had a whole city raising him. Clearly the boy was going to grow up to revolutionise… something.
“There is something bizarrely domestic about that.” Laura Cadman leant against the balcony where it overlooked the Gate room and watched as Sheppard and McKay tried to corral their alien spawn.
“Is it just me or is it sorta… hot?” Katie Brown blushed as she glanced across, and Cadman raised an eyebrow.
“Jeez, Katie, do you and McKay still have that…”
“No! I mean, no, you know, he’s been busy since…” She trailed off, gestured down to where McKay appeared to be having some kind of apoplectic fit about the proximity of the alien spawn to UNIMAGINABLY DANGEROUS SOURCES OF ENORMOUS POWER, whilst Sheppard gently chased a tiny, dark-haired toddler through the Stargate ring.
“Oh,” said Cadman. “That.”
The two of them watched for a while longer. Apparently Sheppard was encouraging the alien spawn to have A BLATANT DISREGARD FOR HIS OWN SAFETY AND THE POTENTIALLY LETHAL DANGERS THAT WERE AN INHERENT PART OF ATLANTIS DEAR LORD MAYBE THEY SHOULD GO BACK TO EARTH THAT WOULD BE A SENSIBLE THING TO DO OH MY GOD DON’T TOUCH THAT!!!!
The alien spawn sat down abruptly, and giggled.
Sheppard picked him up with one arm, then slung round the other round McKay and steered him down the stairs past the Gate room. McKay leaned in to tickle the kid. Katie whimpered.
“They are pretty cute,” said Cadman assessingly.
“I love them all,” squeaked Katie, then blushed. Cadman just clapped her on the shoulder. “You and everyone else, sister,” she said.
The most irritating thing was that some – seemingly all, actually – people were under the utterly erroneous impression that it wasn’t possible to have equal shares in a child and yet be simply straightforward platonic friends. Companions in arms. Compadres. It was clearly that witch Cadman’s fault. And if she thought no-one had noticed her influencing everyone on Atlantis into calling Benjamin Albert Lastname-still-not-quite-nailed-down as “the alien spawn”, well, hmph, she had quite another thought coming.
“This is possibly the most ridiculous farce EVER INVENTED,” said McKay, crossing his arms and scowling. Sheppard looked wounded.
“It’s his birthday,” he complained.
McKay waved a hand. “He wasn’t born!” he exclaimed. “He just appeared, in a flash of light, the result of a highly unethical piece of experimental machinery!”
“Yeah,” said Sheppard agreeably. “Two years ago today.”
“He’s not going to remember! Kids don’t remember stuff at this age! It’s a complete waste of… ooh, that’s cool.”
Sheppard nodded. “Zelenka made it. Neat, huh?”
“Yes, well, I could have… I mean, I would have done much better, of course. That was… that was very… nice of him.”
“Hey, he likes the alien spawn.”
“I cannot BELIEVE you are calling him that too! Do you have any idea of the damage a name like that can cause a child? Do you?”
“I thought kids this age didn’t remember stuff?”
McKay glowered speechlessly for a moment. But it was only a moment. He was made of stern stuff. Sheppard – and everyone else – tuned him out and watched as Ben played with the wooden cars and simple robot and drums – “Who even buys drums? Who? Oh, don’t even tell me, like I can’t guess!” – and ate birthday cake and eventually started to cry, leading the small group of Athosian children who made up his circle of tiny toddling friends to cry as well, leading them all to be put to bed.
And Sheppard and McKay stood over his crib, and watched as he slept, and without even thinking about it McKay shifted a bit to the left, and Sheppard shifted a bit to the right and put his arm round McKay’s shoulder, and they were happy.
Unexpectedly, it turned out Sheppard wasn’t that annoying. Which, frankly, no-one could have seen coming. And Benjamin Albert Sheppard-McKay… no, that was ridiculous. And no, it’s not just that McKay-Sheppard is clearly better, because to be honest, they’re both a little wordy. So they call him Ben, and Sheppard is John and McKay is Rodney. Well, usually. It’s not like people fall in love and never lose their temper or, whatever, feel a little sarcastic. Life’s not a fairy tale. Come on.
Because, seriously, what Disney movie ever had an alien machine that made babies for men who didn't even know they were supposed to be together?