Rating: PG, ~360 words
Sequel: Quick epilogue to Quarks, Quantum Chromodynamics and Other Unproven Theories
Notes: Thanks to siriaeve for the quick beta. Blame the mistakes on her! *koff* This was originally comment fic for seperis, but its been cleaned up a bit and reposted here because I find it fits in nicely and am very happy to make this their epilogue.
McKay waited patiently in the copilot's seat while John fiddled with dials and levers. He was pretty okay with just watching John work. Even if he wanted to get his hands on the obviously different equipment while he could still remember how this ship was different from the one he'd traveled in.
But mostly he just looked.
There was a moment where the stars blurred and space bent and twisted and then *pop*. Something inside McKay's chest eased and John just released the controls with a heavy sigh and sat back in his own chair, easy slump and sprawled limbs so familiar. "Thank god," John muttered, turning to McKay with a broad grin.
"We're back?" McKay asked, already sliding out of his own seat. He didn't really need an answer. He could read the machine better than even John sometimes.
"Oh yes. See that slightly brighter pinprick of light at seven o'clock? That was that thing with the big gun and the two wraith hive ships."
He looked, taking in angles and coordinates. Below them Atlantis was a careful blotch in the calm sea. McKay knew this sky, *knew* it. Not just remembered it, but knew it. A small welling of joy, higher and tighter and sharper than when he'd first hopped off that exam table in the past. So much less pain the absence was shocking, spread through him warm and happy and some little insane part of his brain rolled over and died.
"Good." McKay sighed, twirling John's chair around. "Great."
John was already scooting foward and opening his arms even as McKay climbed up, god so easily, the memory of shooting pain even now fading into the background, and wrapped his arms tightly around John.
"Terrific," John mumbled into his neck, holding back just as hard.
McKay's knees ached a little, crammed the way they were between John's thighs and the chair, his back twinged a little at the taut bow he made it conform to but he didn't care.
John looked up at him and for a brief moment his eyes were dark with fear and worry. Rodney kissed him, slow and deep and desperate and John kissed back, just as desperate, just as frightened.