divorce is final
by Pares


"Can I ask you something?"

"As if you won't ask anyway," he said with a sort of fond dismissal.

"Why did she marry you?

He didn't answer for a long time.

Finally he said, "I bought her a pony. Also, after we started dating, I independently funded some schematics for a plane you'd—-she'd helped design. But mostly, I think it was the pony." He took his glasses off and fidgeted with them a bit before he burst out, "My wife, well, my ex-wife is dead, and you had a hand in that and don't you think that's good for some pity sex?"

Sam considered this and then shrugged out of her coat. She was alone here, more alone than she'd ever been and Rodney McKay was somehow the most familiar thing here. She'd died, sort of, and she'd saved the world, and she could have used a hug and McKay was risking financial suicide and government coercion by helping her and yes, that was good for some pity sex, she decided.

"Sure."

She reached up and kissed him, and he kissed her back, gingerly, warily, softly and then he drew away and his eyes were wet and his mouth was loose and crooked and he whispered, "Oh my god, she really is dead," and Sam kissed him again, winding her fingers into his hair and biting gently at his lower lip instead of apologizing, because there was really nothing to say to that.

END