That which does not kill us by collapse, frustrate us to death by refusing to love us easily, or confound us by sabotage—that which gives us hope… makes us stronger.

When Teyla's still missing, Rodney's done pining, and John's just trying to figure out where to go next.

Pairing

“Well, Indiana,” John said with a wide grin he aimed in Rodney’s direction, “At least snowflakes don’t bite.”

Rodney was convinced that constant danger had to be a Pegasus thing, something in the cosmic atmosphere that compelled everything and everyone living in its proximity to live in perpetual motion, rushing to some things and running from others. He and the rest of the senior staff had spent their days at the SGC surrounded by meetings and paperwork and explanations and job applications, but at the end of it, all of them had felt like they had an embarrassment of riches where they’d once seen only the mundane. They were safe, no one was trying to kill them—and what was more, even if there were to be a threat, the group of them wouldn’t be on their own when fighting it.

John never expected it to happen, but he had always imagined that if it did, the setting would some sort of extreme circumstance, a life or death situation.

“Okay, that’s it.” John had barely rested his hip against the table when he heard the words; he didn’t have much time to note that Rodney sounded kind of sexy when he was stressed before there was a broad hand flat on his chest pushing him backwards. John was so surprised that he just went with it, catching Rodney’s eye just as his back hit something solid—definitely sexy; the look on Rodney’s face was almost feral, and his eyes were bright and challenging. John knew that look. His body knew that look. He was hard before Rodney’s other hand came up to grip the side of his face, possessive thumb stroking his jaw, angling his face just so.

The first time Rodney feels something hit the back of his neck, he shivers.

During the rare moments when Rodney isn’t lying to himself about it, he admits he’s in love with John.

“You’re telling me this now?”

Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad.

“You’re thinking so hard I can hear it through your stupid hair,” Rodney said, his voice muffled through the blanket and several layers of drool.

It was April when they kissed the first time.

Teyla and Rodney spend some time stuck in a puddlejumper and discover that their feelings aren’t as unrequited as they thought–but life is rarely uncomplicated, and this is no exception.

“Even my nightmares are selfish,” Rodney says miserably.