Gigi Sinclair

"Pierre Trudeau?"

"Definitely the best world leader ever," McKay asserted.

Sheppard snorted. "What did he ever do?"

"Piss off Nixon," McKay replied, eyes glued to his computer screen. It was beginning to annoy Sheppard, just as Sheppard was always annoyed when McKay concentrated for extended periods of time on something other than him. Unless it was important wraith-busting stuff. In that case, lapses of attention were forgiven. "Decriminalize homosexuality. 'The state has no business in the bedrooms of the nation.'" Now, McKay glanced over his shoulder, but only for a second. "He also wore a cape."

"Jimmy Carter made peace in the Middle East."

"And look how well that turned out."

Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the nearby bench, until there was an ominous rattling of glass beakers and he quickly stood up again. "Well, what about Kennedy? He pissed off Nixon, too, and he slept with Marilyn Monroe."

"Trudeau dated Kim Cattrall."

"That 'Sex and the City' chick?"

"I preferred her as that Vulcan in 'Star Trek 6.'"

"Me, too, actually."

"Of course you did." McKay looked back at Sheppard, one of Those smiles on his face. The kind that made all reason fly from Sheppard's head and forced him to say:

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I am." McKay tapped a few keys and, before Sheppard knew it, he was powering down his computer.

"You're done?"

"I've been done for ten minutes," McKay said, standing and pulling on his polar fleece. "I was waiting for you to give in."

"What?"

McKay grinned again, and this time, he accompanied it with a discreet pinch to Sheppard's ass. Neither of which did much to assuage Sheppard's irritation. "I love our political discussions, Major."

"Rodney..."

"Come on, John." McKay patted him on the shoulder. "Let's get some dinner. I'll show you how to put maple syrup on your baked beans."

"That's disgusting," Sheppard complained, but he couldn't help but follow McKay out of the lab.

Well, he thought, as they headed down the hall, McKay could have his smug Canadian moment. In a few hours time, he'd be saluting an American flagpole like George Washington on the Fourth of July.

"And stop thinking about your Yankee Doodle," McKay interrupted his self-satisfied fantasy in a low, semi-discreet voice. "You know you'll just end up waxing poetic about Canadian beef."

Sheppard snorted. "We're at least a ten times stronger than you are."

"Ah, yes," McKay replied, leaning close after a quick glance around. "But we're bigger, and we're on top. " He lowered his voice even more, his mouth brushing Sheppard's ear. "Just the way you like it."

Then, he slapped Sheppard's ass, hard enough to leave a resounding echo in the hallway, and took off.

Well, Sheppard thought, as he casually adjusted his suddenly interested groin and followed, annoying as McKay was, the man did give whole new meaning to the term "international summit."