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Taste of Lies

for technosage's ficathon, What's your Filling?


It was just another morning to Rodney. The Daedalus had come back the night before and, therefore, his scientists were nowhere to be found. He’d have the lab to himself until everyone dragged themselves in two or three hours after they normally would be there. It put him in a cheerful mood. Until he saw Sheppard. Or, more specifically, Sheppard’s face.

“” He spoke the words slowly, to be sure there was no misunderstanding.

“What?” Sheppard replied, eyeing Rodney. It was a confused look, as if he had no idea what the question could be in reference to.

“That,” Rodney said, touching a spot on his own face.

“It’s your chin, Rodney.” The response was deliberately insulting, but this time, he refused to rise to the bait.

“Same spot, your chin, Colonel. Stop being obtuse.”

Sheppard was definitely good. He concealed his reaction admirably. Except for the smallest widening of the eyes and the tongue that darted out, reaching for another taste. Sheppard reached a hand up and wiped a finger along the spot. Getting most, but not all, of the substance in question. The tongue darted out again and tasted the substance.

“Some new thing from the Athosians, I think.” A lie.

Rodney narrowed his eyes. “The Athosians. Really, Colonel, you have to learn to lie better.” That did cause Sheppard’s eyes to widen.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rodney.” Sheppard moved away and, instead of heading to the labs, Rodney followed him.

“Of course you know what I’m talking about, Colonel. I’m just hurt that you didn’t share.” He affected a hurt look. Not hard, since he actually was. Sheppard picked up the pace, obviously trying to lose Rodney, but he’d run for his life once too often to not be able to keep up. Finally he stopped, abruptly and faced Rodney.

“I don’t know what you think, but I can tell you, it’s not what you think.”

“Lying to me again, Colonel. One would think you didn’t trust me.” Rodney’s hand shot out and met no resistance; Sheppard apparently hadn’t expected it. His thumb swiped along Sheppard chin, picking up just a hint of the substance that Sheppard hadn’t completely gotten rid of. Keeping his eyes on Sheppard, Rodney stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked, tasting. “Not what I think, Colonel? You’ve been keeping things from me.”

“What do you want me to say, Rodney? There was a finite supply. If you knew, Teyla would know. If she knew, Ronon would know.”

“Did you at least leave me one?” Rodney asked, hope in his voice.

Sheppard’s eyes had darkened. In anger, so Rodney thought. Understandable. What would Rodney do to someone who asked for part of his stash? He didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked, “Do you want a taste, Rodney?” Not what Rodney was expecting, but he nodded.

This time, it was Sheppard’s hand that shot out and Rodney the one that hadn’t expected it. But Sheppard’s hand didn’t offer him food. Or even brush his chin. Instead, it gripped the back of his head and pulled and before Rodney had time to mutter any kind of protest, his mouth was full of that sticky, sweet flavor. This time, from the inside of Sheppard’s mouth. He barely had time to register the flavor and to distinguish between that and Sheppard’s own, personal flavor before it was gone.

Rodney blinked – stupidly – and stood there staring. It took seeing the slight flinching around Sheppard’s eyes before he moved. Cherry, he noted absently. And raspberry, somewhere, too. Eventually he moved back and was – mostly – pleased to see the flinching replaced by a small, smug smirk. Rodney narrowed his eyes and grabbed Sheppard’s arm, navigating them both in the direction of Sheppard’s quarters.

“Just answer me one question. How’d you get Krispy Kreme to deliver?