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McKay/Sheppard Drabbles & Micro Fiction

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"McKay. At ease, Sheppard," Jack says, nodding curtly at the two-person welcoming committee. Jack places a hand on the small of Daniel's back and presses him forward.

There's sharp muttering behind them and then McKay stumbles forward, probably pushed. Daniel turns, one eyebrow raised to Jack.

"Would you like a tour?" McKay stiffly asks. "I'm sure I could provide something . . . adequate."

Daniel smiles. "I can just look. . . ." As they walk into the gate room, he looses his words.

"You're catching bugs," Jack deadpans.

Daniel snaps his mouth shut, pushing his glasses up his nose. "A tour sounds great."

McKay disapprovingly snorts and then sing-songs under his breath, "I'm not a tour guide."

Sheppard speaks out of the side of his mouth, "Just do it."

"You know I don't handle—"

"Will you just—"

Daniel wanders away, touching the banisters, the columns, anything he can reach. Jack barely restrains himself from snatching Daniel's hands lest he accidentally activate a self-destruct or something.

"They're pretty well organized," Jack off-handedly comments.

Daniel nods back the way they came. "They kind of fight like us," Daniel says.

Jack snorts as he opens a door with a wave of his hand. He leans into Daniel's space, speaking only for Daniel, "They're probably screwing, too."