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Watching The Parade Go By

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Having John slip out of bed before him wasn't unusual. Cops had weird hours. The bed always started to cool without John's skinny presence, so after drifting a bit, Rodney would reluctantly surrender to waking up.

The weird thing this morning was no Timmy, no need to tap on his door, no concern about feeding his son a good breakfast.

Ginger and Einstein were still there, Einstein whining at the back door to be let in, Ginger waiting placidly by her food bowl, hoping for a second breakfast. Rodney obeyed Einstein's wishes and told Ginger, "I know John fed you," as he poked his head in the refrigerator, trying to decide what to make for his own meal. He finally opted for cereal, much as John and Timmy's bowls in the sink indicated they had. A big breakfast could wait for tomorrow, when all three of them could eat it.

The fire truck sounded its sirens as Rodney was halfway through his second cup of coffee. Abandoning his laptop, and still dressed in his blue robe and slippers, he went outside as the truck passed his house. Ronon was already there, dressed in jeans and red t-shirt, his yappy little dog cradled in one arm.

"Good morning," Rodney said, waving his coffee cup.

Ronon gave a grunt. Rodney liked that about having Ronon as a neighbor, not ever feeling compelled to make social chitchat about boring subjects.

The pick-up trucks were passing by, kids dressed in baseball uniforms throwing candy at anyone watching the parade. Princess was particularly yappy and excitable this morning, which seemed to encourage the kids to aim right at her. Ronon protectively tucked her closer to his body as Rodney picked up candy, trying not to spill coffee and grateful that his robe had deep pockets.

"Pirates," was all Ronon said, but Rodney stopped bothering with the candy. John was in the passenger seat, the baseball cap hiding his distinctive hair, almost disguising him. A sign on the side of the truck proclaimed 'Pirates' and big bunches of balloons were tied to the cab.

"Rodney!" John said loudly, giving a thumbs-up. In the back of the truck with the rest of his team, Timmy waved, yelling, "Dad!"

Rodney waved back at both of them, grinning, choked up with happiness at his husband the assistant coach and his son the catcher.

~ the end ~