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[identity profile] berlinghoff79.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] sgaconstruction
“What the hell is going on here?!” Rodney yelled, pulling John from his formerly serene nap on the couch.

“What? Huh? What's happening?” John breathlessly asked, quickly sitting up.

“What's happening?” Rodney's voice rose even more. “What's happening?!”

He angrily began picking up the discarded pillows that lay on the floor beside John, throwing them one after the other to punctuate his words.

“I'll tell you what's happening. We have guests from the university coming over in,” Rodney checked his watch, “less than two hours and this place looks like a tornado hit it. Pillows everywhere, magazines tossed aimlessly, half-filled beers on the table, and...” Rodney broke off, eyes widening and pointing a shaky finger at the far chair. “Is that my shoe?!”

John looked over to the chair, currently occupied by their Retriever. “Alice, no, bad dog!” he tried to reprimand. The dog in question just raised her head a bit, giving him a questioning look, before laying back down and continuing to chew on the leather.

“She's got the run of the house!” Rodney complained, throwing his hands up. “You're supposed to keep her off the furniture, remember?”

“It's her chair! She's allowed to have one chair in the entire house, huh?” John protested.

“All my training does nothing when she just slinks over to you and you play the easy parent.”

“I'm the cool parent,” John joked, but he quickly shut up when Rodney glared at him.

“Why did I let you talk me into keeping her anyway?” he asked, clearing the side table of all of John's junk, throwing dog toys and candy wrappers at John's head as Sheppard tried to duck the projectiles. “You coerced me with that smile and that sob story, 'But Rodney, she's all alone. If we don't take her, just think of the bad things that'll happen to her.' And now I'm out of yet another pair of shoes.”

“I'll buy you another pair, promise.” John tried to look apologetic, hoping he could head off Rodney's tirade at the pass.

“Oh,” Rodney laughed, “you bet you will. Just like you've had to replace my tie, my best pants, and my favorite shirt.”

“I will.”

“And you'll also get up and clean this room top to bottom, go take a shower, and be present and accounted for in pressed slacks and a crisp white shirt when the department head and the others show up.”

John was about to protest, but the look on Rodney's face made that a very bad idea. “Yes, Rodney.”

With that, Rodney stormed out, muttering about inmates running the asylum. John could only imagine the pending fireworks that were bound to come when the university crowd showed up, considering they were the main inmates Rodney complained about the most. John chuckled, shaking his head as he rose from the couch.

“One of these days, Alice,” John teased, while she just sighed in response.


Click me :D


Author: [livejournal.com profile] kimberlyfdr, Title: It's A Living
Artist: [livejournal.com profile] anna_luna


Where to next?

The Kitchen
John's Study
The Garden
2nd Floor
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