Ten to One

Ten.

The number of times John said Rodney's name before he looked up from whatever research he was currently working on. He'd never say it out loud, but the look on his face was kind of, well, adorable. Not that he'd ever say it out loud. Never.

Nine.

How many pancakes Rodney ate (covered in his Canadian maple syrup) while the two of them argued about whether or not Batman would beat Spiderman. They never did resolve that one.

Eight.

The number of hours it took for the two of them to get out of the hidden corridor that the Ancients had oh so carefully placed (it was only two feet across). Crammed in tight, shoulders and hips snug. It actually wasn't that bad…not that Rodney would ever tell John that.

Seven.

It had been a week since he'd seen Rodney. He missed him, but he would never admit it out loud. Teyla and Ronon kept on giving him looks, though, like they knew. So, he missed him. It was only because he missed his partner in crime, and seven days was a long time… Plus, he owed him money.

Six.

How many people had come by Rodney's hospital room before John showed up. He tried to act like it was nothing, but Rodney knew. He'd been scared for him. He put his hand on Rodney's knee and squeezed. It hadn't been his fault that the water reclaimer had blown up.

Five.

The time when John had picked him up for dinner on their first date. He'd been wearing a suit (looking quite uncomfortable in it) and Rodney had changed into his leather jacket. They'd laughed about the mixed signals and ended up at the pier, sharing a bottle of wine and roast beef sandwiches.

Four.

The amount of tries it took for Rodney to tie his tie properly before giving in and letting John do it. The man was annoyingly good at the simple things, but the scientist didn't mind so much because it meant he got to be close to his boyfriend for the whole evening at the gala. Worth it.

Three.

The number of times John tried to propose, Rodney being none the wiser. Each time, he'd been interrupted by either a team member or the unfortunate timing of an unscheduled off-world activation. He just wanted to propose, goddammit!

Two.

How many minutes they lasted their first time together. Embarrassingly short, but, god, it had been a long time coming and they laughed about it afterwards. They were celebrating an engagement, after all.

One.

The day neither of them ever forgot. Their daughter coming home in their arms, perfect in every way possible. Thanks to gene therapy, she was an actual combination of their genetics…and they knew their life would never be the same.