1.
2.
"no waaaaaaaay was major john sheppard asking rodney to pass the pitcher of not-orange juice down the table, uh-uh, not at all, not possible. because this might be the pegasus galaxy, not the milky way, and they were admittedly geographically distant, but this was still the universe, he was fairly sure, and in THIS universe men like major john sheppard, us air force, really cool hair, did not ask men like rodney mckay, smartest genius in teh history of ever, to pass the not-orange juice.
"or the orange juice. or the salt. or the potatoes. they didn't even ask them for the time.
"even if they were concerned that they were going to be late to the most important appointment of their lives, and they had no idea what time it was, and it was really important that they leave at exactly a quarter after eleven, and there were no clocks, and no sun that they could use to tell time with, assuming they had a sun dial, they would still rather be late than ask men like rodney mckay, brilliant genius who is somehow still a loser, to tell them the time. even in a rude tone of voice, they still wouldn't. it was pretty strange, actually. and tragic."
2.
"rodney! wait! don't leave me!"
"look, i'm sorry if you wanted to begin a scathing homophobic diatribe with the phrase 'don't leave me', even though you've never shown the slightest hint of it and, in fact, have really gay hair, but i'm a little too busy feeling crappy even though i should be feeling post-coital since we just had the best sex in the universe."
"i didn't want to. it was the furthest thing from my mind. it was so far away from my mind that even you couldn't calculate how long it would take to get to it from my head by puddle-jumper, although i, of course, could. i actually solved that math problem from good will hunting, want to see? over dinner and a movie?"
"oh, forgive me for being really rude all the time, your recent orgasm, and NOT BELIEVING that you were crying 'wait, rodney' as i tried to leave you right after amazing sex because you wanted a date. but even if you do, you only want to date me now because of that mind-blowing orgasm. tomorrow morning you'll remember your homophobia and come chasing me down with a pickup truck, some chains, and one of those cartoon baseball bats with a giant spike in one end."
"no, i won't. gay hair aside, i'm not gay, but this strange and new tingly feeling in my abdomen and my sudden unaccountable penchant for receding hairlines tells me that i am totally gay FOR YOU."
"okay. can you fit in a curtain-shopping expedition next wednesday, about two pm?"