Rodney McKay entered the lounge and went to sit on the couch next to Radek Zelenka, who was watching something on the screen they'd set up for those who had brought DVDs or videos to the Pegasus galaxy."Ne! Ne!"
Rodney stopped, looking at Radek. "What?"
"That seat, it is taken." Radek didn't look away from the screen.
"There's no one sitting there, Radek."
"It is taken," he insisted, pausing the program to glare up at Rodney. "Do you not speak English?"
Rodney blinked before backing away. "Okay, fine." Walking out of the lounge, he ran into John Sheppard, on his way into the lounge with a bowl of Athosian chips and two bottles of Budweiser he must have stashed somewhere before the supply had run out. "I'd reconsider going in there, if I were you. Zelenka's in a mood."
John quirked his mouth in a smile. "He's watching a copy of the 1998 Olympic Hockey gold medal game. He gets excited."
"Why?" Rodney was puzzled.
John rolled his eyes. "You call yourself Canadian. The Czech Republic won the gold that year, McKay." He moved past Rodney into the lounge. Rodney turned and watched as John sat down in the spot Rodney had tried to sit in, although Radek didn't object this time. Instead, he -- Rodney blinked. Radek had leaned into John, taking the bottle of beer and spouting something in Czech at the screen. John shook his head and put his free arm on the back of the couch behind Radek, drinking his beer. If Rodney didn't know better, he'd say Radek and John were involved.
But really, Radek and John? Rodney looked away, shaking his head.
Looking back into the lounge, though, he saw the indulgent smile John gave Radek, and the smile John received in return. Yep. Involved.
This time he walked away, leaving the two men alone with their beer and hockey. Stopping, he turned back and thought the door shut, giving his friends some privacy. Wouldn't do to have Kavanagh walk in on them, after all.