TITLE: Morning Sickness
SUMMARY: A week of Rodney McKay's morning sickness.
WARNINGS: MPreg. Post-Mpreg.
CATEGORIES: Established Relationship. Fluff.
PAIRING: Sheppard/McKay
DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of this. This doesn't belong to me. The characters aren't mine, Atlantis isn't mine. : This is all fake.

The first morning that Rodney woke up, stomach tossing and turning, he was sure it was a side-effect of whatever he ate the night before, coming up to haunt him in the Ancient's version of a toilet. He spent five minutes on his knees, vomiting pink and orange chunks of alien food that tasted so much better going down. When he finally crawled out of the bathroom, miserable and chilled, he slid back into bed beside John, pressing a now-minty scented kiss to the man's brow before selfishly stealing all the blankets and rolling over.

The second morning that Rodney woke up, sick to his stomach and launching his guts into what passed for a toilet around here, Rodney told himself that it was probably a stomach bug that he had picked up. He spent eight minutes hunched over, heaving whatever was left in his stomach from his 2AM snack of Powerbars. John sat up in bed when he heard the sound of the toilet being flushed, and frowned at the sound of Rodney's quiet groaning. He waited, listening to the sound of Rodney gargling and brushing his teeth, before sliding back under the covers to feign sleep. Rodney slipped into the bed, toasty from John's body wrapped in blankets, and pressed up close to the other man to steal his body heat. Once he managed to warm up a little, he tugged more of the blankets over his own body, leaving John with barely any at all.

The third morning that Rodney woke up to spending his first moments of the day tossing the remains of last night's meager dinner into a toilet that was quite poorly designed for someone spending their mornings throwing up, Rodney merely moaned pitifully and promised to shove Carson's big and pointy needle up his ass if he told him that it wasn't a stomach bug again. He spent nearly a quarter of an hour on the floor, looking and feeling horrible. He was pale and nauseous, and ready to murder whoever managed to get him sick. John was ready this time, and after Rodney trudged out of the bathroom and crawled into their bed, he was enveloped in John's strong arms as soon as the blankets were drawn back up around them both. The soothing feeling of a hand rubbing his back helped Rodney drift back into an easy sleep until he actually needed to be awake for the day.

The fourth morning Rodney spent time on the bathroom floor, he didn't bother placing any blame. He was feeling too sick to his stomach to even bother at this point. Carson told him to come back to the infirmary for some tests if this kept up another day, but he wasn't too sure if he wanted to hear the news. Spending twenty minutes kneeling on a cold hard floor was an experience that Rodney wasn't too keen on repeating, but John came in and started a nice hot shower, exactly the way Rodney liked it. Then, he stripped them both of their clothes once Rodney's mouth no longer tasted like something had died in it and climbed on in. The morning was spent lazing in the shower, John's hands stroking every touchable surface of Rodney's body with a soapy washcloth. It felt nice enough that Rodney didn't bother complaining about the vomiting. Much.

The fifth morning Rodney woke up with an undeniable urge to spew his guts, he raced for the bathroom and knelt on the thoughtfully-placed towels on the floor. But even this act of good-will wasn't going to save John. Carson confirmed it, yesterday. Rodney was pregnant. Again. Rodney would have locked John out of their bedroom last night if he could have. Unfortunately, Atlantis and John were still having a torrid love affair and she would do anything he wished. Including opening their bedroom doors. And Rodney refused to sleep on the couch in his condition. John just laughed at him and got into bed. Rodney wouldn't have slept on the couch even if he didn't have a 'condition'. When Rodney managed to feel less like death and look marginally presentable, he padded out of the bathroom and glared evilly at his sympathetic lover. Not bothering to even attempt to go back to sleep, Rodney dressed hastily and left the room without a second look over at John.

John was planning on lazing around in bed a little longer. He didn't even have to be up and about for another hour. That would give him enough time to get Jaimie washed up, dressed and fed before dropping her off at the 'Jumper Bay. She'd be going with a couple botanists and the two other 'Lantean children who spent most of the day over at the mainland with a group of Athosians who watched over the smaller children. But less than ten minutes later, a dark-haired, dark-eyed little girl in only her pajamas came running into the bedroom and began jumping on the bed.

Rodney must have been very angry to sic their daughter on him this early in the morning. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't like it was entirely John's fault that Rodney was pregnant again. Neither one of them had any idea that it was even possible more than once. Not that the first time hadn't been a shock as well. But Rodney had been no-where near that device since the first time. After Jaimie was delivered via cesarean section, Carson had assured them that this was a one-time thing. The birthing organs were no longer present within a month after their daughter's birth. Yet, somehow, four years later, here he was. Pregnant. Again. And Rodney was still bitching about how it shouldn't have even been possible in the first place.

"Why is Papa mad at you?" the curious girl asked after finally settling down on the bed. John cast a wary eye at her before sighing softly and pulling the gangly child into his lap. She stared up at him with a crooked expression on her face quite reminiscent of her Papa.

"Guess what." John was opting for the 'this is good news and Rodney's just grumpy' tactic. It usually worked wonders on her.

Why the two of them weren't in need of serious couple's management yet was beyond him.

"You're going to have a baby brother," he said proudly, distracting her. This was actually an exciting prospect. As much as he loved Jaimie, some things were just different with a girl. A lot of things. She liked dolls and playing house with some of the Athosian children, much to Rodney's dismay. John had to admit that he was a little disappointed he wasn't going to get to teach her the finer points of football with an attitude towards sports like hers, but Rodney's distaste for her habits was for a much different reason. When John said that there was nothing wrong with their daughter wanting to grow up to be a housewife, Rodney spent the next few nights in the lab, ignoring a very confused Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard. According to Carson, it had something to do with common stereotypes and, well, a lot of other stuff that John never figured Rodney to get so uptight over based on how he talked about women.

Apparently it was a different story when that 'woman' is your little girl.

The sixth morning Rodney woke up with morning sickness, he dragged John out of bed along with him, telling his partner that if he was going to suffer, then John was going to suffer right along with him. John didn't dare tell Rodney that he already was suffering. Within a few minutes of throwing up his stomach's content, John's hand was rubbing Rodney's back as he rode out the nausea and the vomiting for the next fifteen or twenty minutes. Helping his pregnant partner up off of the floor and over to the sink, John stayed there as Rodney brushed his teeth, twice, and gargled with some mouthwash they had gotten from the Daedalus.

He was surprised when Rodney didn't immediately leave the bathroom or begin berating him on the dangers of impregnating one's very male lover for a second time. Instead, he turned to face John and buried his face into his shoulder. John's arms went on auto-pilot, wrapping around Rodney's upper body to hold him close, rubbing his back once again. John had found out early on that easiest way to calm or relax Rodney was to rub his back. Depending on the severity of Rodney's moods, it could range anywhere from a swift stroke or two, to a full on massage. Either way, John was more than happy to accommodate his needs. Perhaps it was a ridiculously macho desire of his, or at least that's what Rodney claimed, but John loved to have a reason to hold Rodney in his arms. And this was the only way Rodney would let him.

"You okay?" he dared to ask after a few minutes of silence, his hands gently stroking his partner's back. John was mildly worried about Rodney, actually. He couldn't fathom what it would be like to suddenly find out he was pregnant a first time, let alone a second. He definitely wouldn't be taking it as well as Rodney, not that he's had an exemplary attitude about this whole situation. Not at all. But at least Rodney was coping, which was more than John would be able to say for himself were he in his shoes.

"Just shut up," Rodney muttered into the crook of John's neck, eyes closed and not feeling particularly keen on being at all kind to the other man. This just wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be at all possible. But they were in an alien galaxy, damn it. Of course some things were going to stomp all over science as the 'primitive' earthlings knew it to be. Even back in the Milky Way there were advanced alien races who could do things that humans thought to be 'impossible'. Why should this be any different?

"All right," John said softly, still giving Rodney the attention he was silently asking for without saying another word until their little girl came running in, tugging on her Daddy's tee-shirt as she jumped up and down, demanding breakfast. John just chuckled quietly and drew away from Rodney to pick her up, not-so-casually remarking that she took so well after her Papa.

The mouthing off he recieved after that one immediately prompted John to offer naming rights off to Rodney, once again. Last time around, he had saved that for the big guns. Rodney wanted John to get a vasectomy and John had outright refused. Which was how they ended up with Jaimie Ingrid Sheppard at 0357 on a Tuesday in May. Or, at least, what was a Tuesday in May on Earth. At the wary look Rodney shot him at this declaration, John nodded seriously.

"As long as he doesn't end up Junior," he snorted, giving Rodney a bit of a warning look. He could easily recall Rodney's plans early on for naming Jaimie. They weren't pretty.

The seventh day that Rodney woke up ill, he spent the morning cursing John's sperm and alien technology and morning sickness at nearly four months along in the pregnancy. John got up out of their bed and headed into the bathroom, kneeling by Rodney's side to take up his usual duty of rubbing his back.

"It's getting worse," Rodney moaned as he slid back, away from the toilet. John frowned, kneeling a little closer and thought on it a moment, before daring to ask how so.

"I'm throwing up in the morning, I'm nauseous at lunch time, at dinner time. All the damned time, Colonel." That wasn't a good sign. Rodney only called him by his rank these days when he was upset with him. "Yesterday Zelenka was drinking coffee, coffee! and I had to leave the lab to throw up. I hate you," he whined, trailing off at the end a bit before scowling crookedly.

John frowned, remembering how bad it got last time around. It wasn't exactly an experience he wanted to repeat. And he wasn't even the one doing all of the vomiting. Sighing softly, John leaned in to kiss Rodney's forehead, and slowly stood up. Urging Rodney to do the same and brush his teeth, John started up the shower, nice and hot and perfect for Rodney.

Another month of this. And then four months after that of a tired, cranky, sore, and very pregnant Rodney. It would be worth it in the end, definitely. They would have, what Carson said looks like, a son in a little over five months. But would it have hurt for the alien beings to find a way to speed the process up? Morning sickness was something they could both do without.