The last batch of valentines can be found here.

These are a couple of the ones that were physically mailed to their recipients, who gave me permission to re-post them. There are scans under the cut, so beware of slow image loading!


This is for trystings, who asked for John sending a card to Rodney (though I flipped it around and had Rodney send John a card).








And this is for army_rat, who wanted Keller giving John a card, which actually didn't turn out to be nearly as difficult as I was expecting when I first saw the prompt. I wrote a little ficlet to go with it, since the card by itself didn't seem to tell a complete story.





Lying face-down in the infirmary, John had learned to recognize people by their footsteps -- Keller's quick light tapping, Teyla's soft padded steps, Ronon's panther-like stride. He was drowsing, half asleep, when Rodney breezed in.

John decided to play dead and see if he went away, like you were supposed to do with bears. Maybe Rodney was looking for Keller and not for him, though he wasn't sure which would be worse: Rodney trying to play the role of the concerned friend (a role he was very bad at) ... or Rodney needing a prescription for allergies or avian flu or whatever he thought he had this time. In the last three days, John had learned far more about Rodney's medical problems, real or exaggerated, than he thought was entirely appropriate.

But Rodney's footsteps stopped next to John's bed. He quickly closed his eyes and tried to remember that training course on dealing with hostile wildlife. Go limp, try not to move, and maybe they'll leave ...

There was a soft rustling sound next to his bed, and then a sharp laugh startled him out of his feigned sleep. John's eyes snapped open. "Okay, what?" he grumbled.

"Aha, I knew you were awake," Rodney said, sounding even more smug than usual. "I can spot a fake sleeper a mile away. Do you have any idea what the lab techs will resort to when it's time to clean the biology department's algae vats? And what's this?"

John pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing as the movement tugged at the healing bullet wound somewhere south of his belt ... or where his belt would be, if he were wearing one. Or pants. "What's what?"

"This." Rodney waved an envelope. It was pink. John blinked at it.

"I don't have a clue."

"Well, it was sitting on your bedside table." Rodney waved it around some more, just in case the whole infirmary hadn't seen it, including the two hydrologists who were presently blind from chemical burns. It was a very bright pink envelope. "And it has your name on it."

"Which means it's mine, Rodney," John growled.

"Secret admirer?" Rodney asked cheerfully, peeling up the flap. "A nurse, perhaps? If it's one of my people, we'll have to have a little talk about her dubious tastes, of course."

"Rodney, damn it, put that down." He didn't have a clue what was in it, or how it had gotten there, but he could not think of a single possibility that wouldn't end very badly and with a lot of embarrassment for both of them. Well, mostly him.

With a flourish, Rodney shook out an alarmingly pink card. He opened it and burst into laughter.

John made a grab for it, and missed, almost falling out of bed.

"It's from Keller! Sheppard, what have you been doing, charming the doctor?"

John squinted at what he could see of the card's face -- a stylized Cupid and glittery hearts. "Why the hell is Keller giving me a Valentine card?" He was very much afraid that he didn't want to know the answer.

Rodney retreated out of hitting range, with a gleeful, "Ha! I can't wait to tell Ronon that his girlfriend is sending love letters to you!"

John was absolutely not touching the girlfriend comment, especially since Ronon had been very close-mouthed about the exact nature of his relationship with Keller. "Next time someone's shooting at us, you're covering our six and getting shot in the ass, McKay."

"Been there, done that." Rodney retreated a little further, removing himself from the range of most thrown projectiles as well, and tapped his radio. "Hey, Ronon, what are you doing? Yes, I mean now, you oversized ..."

John groaned and covered his head with his pillow. Rodney was definitely getting assigned to the very next mission involving mud, alien wildlife, weird rituals or any other humiliating thing he could come up with. He was pretty sure Ronon would help.