Reaction to Rina's Why?
July 2005
I really don’t get it. I mean, I know what I look like; I’m not an idiot, and of course I use it. But that’s not what draws someone like him, at least not more than once. It helps that I’m not some dumb trained ape or whatever it is that he likes to call us soldiers, but really, compared to him, we’re close.
So why me?
Sometimes when we’re sitting in a briefing, I’ll look over at him, and I’ll remember the night before, or even a few minutes before when I might have dragged him into the Atlantean version of a supply closet, and I know I start to grin. It’s knowing that the smartest—and one of the hottest—man in two galaxies spends most nights in my bed.
He brings that same focus to everything he does, whether it’s saving us all from death or making me scream with pleasure. I’m really glad that the rooms are sound-proof.
But the reality is that despite his attitude, which I think is more self defense than anything else—and I’d really like to know who made Rodney think that he needs to attack first to keep from being hurt—if he showed an interest in almost anyone, they’d jump him in a heartbeat. So why does he want me?
But he does, and I’m not going to make him question it. Mensa-level here. I’ve got him and I’m keeping him, no matter why he picked me. Because I get to do this.
"Hey, Rodney?"
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