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John crossed his ankles and watched the stars wheel overhead. Hm. Intellectually, he knew the stars were wheeling because the planet was turning on its axis, but really, you couldn't actually see the wheeling part because the planet was turning so slowly. So, could a person laying comfortably on his back with good friends on a pleasant autumn night watch the stars wheel since he couldn't actually detect the motion? A question guaranteed to annoy an astrophysicist, especially if he could throw in some Shakespeare. He tuned into radio Rodney.
"—incredibly stupid! Using the gate more than once a day isn't going to bring—"
"Rodney."
"—the Wraith—"
"Rodney!"
"What?!"
"If your eyes can't actually detect the motion of the stars, can it accurately be said that you're watching the stars wheel?"
Other than the heavy breathing of righteous indignation that Rodney had been working on for most of the afternoon and into the late evening, it was silent for a moment. John could picture Rodney's eyes doing his I can't believe you're that stupid, do you want me to add two and two for you while I'm at it? bulge. It made him look like an offended Chihuahua with endlessly blue eyes. No, make that fathomlessly. Shakespeare would be proud.
John idly scratched his chin and put on his most nonchalant tone. "Just curious."
Rodney's entire body jerked, as if goosed in that delightful rump with a cattle prod. "We're stuck here, sleeping outside where all the bugs are and all you can think about is semantics? Did your hair eat your brain? You're supposed to be sneaky, devious, and clever like all good little Colonels. Put that to good use and get us out of here instead of poking holes in the language! And the answer is yes! Just because you're obviously too much of an idiot to notice what's going on over your head doesn't mean it's not going on. So you can watch the starts wheel, as you so poetically put it, even if you're too blind to notice it. So quit stargazing and start figuring out how to get us home where I have a perfectly good bed!"
John grinned up at the stars. "We're here until morning."
There was a sniff, a few moments of huffy silence, and then, "Fine."
Rodney flumped around in place, jerking his various possessions around into a satisfactory nest, and then flopped onto his back.
In the light of the two moons hanging low on the planet's horizon, John watched him squirming around on the ground, trying to find a way to get comfortable in the grass without blankets. Finally, Rodney just sprawled on his back and growled, arms and legs splayed. His hand lay palm up, fingers curling and uncurling like a rapidly decaffeinating starfish.
He decided that Rodney needed something to occupy him. "Hey Rodney."
"What!"
"Who came up zero as a real number? Assyrians?"
Rodney rolled onto his side just to glare. "I'm trying to get some rest, Colonel, not amuse your tiny little mind. It was the Babylonians."
John stretched himself luxuriously, then tucked his hands behind his head and look up at the stars again. Oh yeah, he could feel Rodney's eyes all over him. "Nah. They used it as a place holder. I'm trying to remember who first used it in real math. You remember what real math is?"
"The Greeks, then." Rodney shifted in place. "No. They didn't do it. Though they did have the good sense to have a religion based on math. Even if it was based on the ridiculous idea that everything in the universe could be explained with whole numbers."
"Huh?"
"The Pythagoreans. They made a religion out of the theorem. They thought everything in the universe could be expressed as a ratio of two whole numbers."
"Square root of one must have annoyed them." John quirked a lip.
"They tried to keep it under wraps. One guy apparently let it leak out, so they took him into the Mediterranean and dumped him into it."
"Some people take math too seriously."
Rodney reached across the space between them and punched John in the ribs. "Some don't take it seriously enough, Mr. Could Have Been in Mensa."
John chuckled. "Nice evade, Genius. So who first used zero in real math?"
"What difference does it make?" Rodney wiggled in his spot.
John closed his eyes to keep from turning his head to look. "It doesn't. I was just thinking and couldn't remember. I figured you would know."
Rodney's muscles audibly froze at the ego-poke. "I do know. I just don't happen to remember right now because I usually have more important things to think about. Give me a few minutes."
John waved a hand airily over his head. "No problem, Rodney. It's okay if you can't remember it."
"I'll remember it."
John suppressed a smirk. Nothing would drive Rodney more insane than a blanking memory and no access to research materials. Well, nothing short of being chained up with a steaming cup of fresh coffee just out of reach, but he had to work with what was on hand.
Rodney was holding his breath, then letting it go in a series of short pants before sucking in a new one and muttering under his breath of stupid colonels with brain eating hair asking stupid questions.
"It's okay, Rodney. I'll just look it up when we get back to Atlantis."
"You're a jerk, Colonel," Rodney snapped.
John rolled to his side and gave him puppy dog eyes. "Aw, c'mon Rodney."
Rodney wrinkled his face and rolled over onto his other side, presenting his back and that squeezeable butt to John. Rodney grunted in frustration and wriggled in his spot. John popped a woody. Hoo boy. He closed his eyes and tried to picture Woolsey in a dress. He just got Rodney bent over his chair in the puddlejumper, butt cheeks quivering while he wrestled with the innards of some access panel or other. John clenched his teeth and forced himself to think about slime mold.
"Oh please, Kirk. The alien princesses aren't throwing themselves at you. Can't you keep it zipped up for one night?"
John's eyes snapped open to see Rodney glowering at his erection.
John grinned, showing teeth. "There weren't any alien princesses shaking their asses at me."
Rodney rolled his eyes, then tucked his chin a bit and smirked in a self-satisfied way. As if John couldn't see it in the not-so-dim light.
The proverbial light-bulb went off over John's head.
"You know what? You've been shaking your ass at me for five years now, Rodney," John said quietly.
"I have not! I—"
"Yes you have. Know what? When we get back to Atlantis, I'm dragging you off to my quarters, stripping your pants off of you, bending you over my knee, and spanking that sexy butt of yours."
"Could be in Mensa, my ass. It's about time you figured it out," Rodney said. "I've been shaking my ass at your for years. And zero became a number in India, 9th Century. You know, the place where they invented the Kama Sutra." Rodney smirked. "Genius here."
John closed his eyes and groaned.