Sheppard and McKay are lost in space. No, really.

This is so… wrong. In a way that’s mostly pink. And fluffy.

Letters. Words. Thoughts. Actions.

By the time Canada took the 2002 gold, Rodney was drunk as a skunk and determined to move in with Radek Zelenka. Ice hockey! Hours and hours and hours of ice hockey!

Cute, funny, lovely fic. “John held up the recorder again, and pressed play. “Quack quack quack,” it said, in Rodney’s voice. “Quack honk quack quack honk honk!” “

There was no way he could loose Rodney.

What sucked most was the sinking feeling that McKay was handling the whole thing better than he was.

“Rodney’s Antarctica is a lot like Siberia in that it’s full of scientists who work 16-hour days and bathe once a week (twice when they’re feeling social).”

Gorgeous long plotty McKay/Shep by torch

The Wraith are gone, almost everybody is okay, the city is in tip-top condition, Rodney can’t sleep and Carson’s a big meanie who won’t drug him. John has a plan.

About five seconds after the wormhole snapped shut behind them the jumper’s console lit up like the Fourth of July.

Lovely, long, schmoopy McKay/Sheppard fic. Just the right side of sweet

“We’re human beings, Rodney,” Elizabeth said. “We are irrational and emotional.” “Yes, well, we don’t have to act like it,” Rodney said.

What it takes to get Rodney’s full attention

Now he can leave if he wants to.

The strangest thing about John’s job wasn’t actually the Wraith, because he’d seen the first two Alien movies about fifty times apiece, and he figured as long as they didn’t have mandibles and lay eggs in you, he was still a few points up on Ripley. It al

Short and sweet little PWP by Shalott

John discovers a new way to relax.

A few months ago, he’d never have considered that “death without honour” would ever be on a par with “death from soul-sucking alien.”

This slave-owner thing was a lot of responsibility.