Empirical Evidence

“They have strong teeth you know, duct tape wouldn't work.”

Coffee spewed out of Sheppard's mouth in all directions and he nearly choked on what had already gone down his throat. Ronon gave him a hefty slap on his back and he ended up face down in the plate of faux scrambled eggs.

He lifted his head to the dead silence of all sitting at the table around him. He spit off a piece of egg as he coughed slightly.

“Sorry about that,” murmured Dex, taking a massive bite out of the piece of toast in his hand. “You were choking,” he said between chews.

Sheppard had several comments on the tip of his tongue, but like the coffee, he decided to swallow most of them, shooting a dirty look at the alien runner, who of course ignored him. Why not? The larger man could easily beat the snot out of him.

But he couldn't believe that McKay had suggested duct tape!

“And you know this how, Rodney?”

“Know what?” McKay was beaming with totally unabashed and false innocence.

“That a kid can chew through duct tape?”

“Empirical experience,” he replied simply.

Teyla's eyes narrowed slightly as she figured out precisely what McKay meant, while Beckett looked absolutely, totally horrified at the thought of someone abusing a child like that. Sheppard was certain that the physician would launch into some tirade that began with 'the poor--

“The poor wee children!” exclaimed Beckett. “I canna believe that even you, Rodney McKay, would be so cruel as to duct tape a child's mouth shut!”

Ah yup, thought Sheppard, swatting away Ronon's hand as he spied the runner making a pass for his other piece of buttered toast. Wait a second, where was the other piece??

“Doctor McKay,” admonished Teyla like some mother chastising a child who'd just pulled the wings off the fly.

“Excuse me?” McKay shot back acerbically. “I never said that I used duct tape on a kid's mouth.”

“But you said,” began Teyla.

Sheppard grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, that empirical experience was YOU getting your mouth duct taped shut, wasn't it? Well, that makes a lot more sense.”

McKay glared at him but Sheppard was so accustomed to that glare, it shed off him like water off a duck. A second later that disgruntlement turned to gloating. “My cousin Robert babysat me once. I was seven. He was fifteen. He invited a girl over, which was against the house rules, by the way, and told me to shut my yap or else.”

“Well, talk about a stupid thing to tell you to do,” Sheppard said boldly.

McKay just snorted as he slathered some more cream cheese on his bagel. “So, one thing led to another and he duct taped my mouth shut and then locked me in the closet for the rest of the evening till my mother came and got me.”

“Okay, I don't see you as the kind of kid who would tolerate that kind of abuse,” Sheppard posed, wondering if McKay was a closet weirdo or something. Closet. Ha, weird choice of words.

“With a vacuum cleaner.”

“Do I really want to go there, Rodney?” Sheppard challenged. “What did your parents do when you told them?”

“Good lord, I wouldn't tell them about that,” McKay said abruptly, looking truly annoyed. “Think I wanted my hide tanned?”

“For being locked in a closet?” Sheppard was puzzled. In his book, that was child abuse.

“Do you know how easy it is to rewire a vacuum cleaner, to make it blow up when you flick the 'on' switch?” McKay said very smoothly. “His mother always made him vacuum the living room – with all of her white lace doilies – every morning.”

Teyla and Dex, of course, exchanged perplexed glances at this revelation. Vacuum cleaners, doilies. Totally foreign earth items, or at least the words were foreign.

“You're an evil man, Rodney.” Sheppard grinned broadly.

“Thank you, colonel,” said McKay glibly. “So, while we're swapping babysitting horror stories, what was your worst time? I mean, everybody had a babysitter at one time or another, well…” He eyed Dex suspiciously. “Except him.”

Sheppard thought about it. He could top McKay's little horror story…

“Well, when the SWAT team broke down the kitchen door….”

THE END

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