2230, the note read. A smirk accompanied it, a small upturn of one corner of Sheppard's mouth. It was that simple, arranging something that Rodney and the Colonel had been dancing around for months. If Rodney had known it would be that easy, he could have done it himself: handed over a note with a suave smile and a pat on the arm that unmistakably said, "Screwing isn't optional."
As the clock crept to 2300 the note was Rodney's only company while Sheppard led a rescue mission 1.4 light-years from Atlantis.
Tch, how hard is it to escape wraith, anyway?