Oddly, it was Ellen who noticed. It took almost ten minutes, but she suddenly looked up from her script.

"Um, Geoffrey?" she said, pointing to a seat in the fifth row. "That's not Pete."

"Are you sure?" Geoffrey said, all fake innocence. "'Cause I fucked that guy this morning."

Maria snorted, and Geoffrey looked at her, trying to be serious and failing after about ten seconds. Geoffrey glanced back to the row and pointed at John. "Everybody, John Sheppard, Pete's cousin. John, everybody."

John waved. Geoffrey caught Maria waving back. "Knock it off," he told her. "He's married." She blushed and John grinned.

Ellen cleared her throat. "I didn't mean to disrupt rehearsal. I just wanted to make sure you knew."

Geoffrey stared at her for a couple of seconds. "Thank you, Ellen," he deadpanned. "I knew. Top of the scene," he said, waving a hand to encompass all of the actors.

John shook his head at Geoffrey's antics. He was really starting to appreciate Geoffrey's particular brand of dry, thoughtful wackiness. If they could stay a while, he was sure that the four of them could get into a lot of trouble. And he thought that some trouble would do Rodney a world of good. He just didn't know how he could help. He'd been devastated by Carson's death, but Rodney had been much closer to Carson. Rodney also shouldered the guilt he felt for refusing to join Carson on his fishing trip, believing that his selfishness had caused Carson's death, feeling - and saying - that if he'd gone, he could have kept Carson alive.

Rodney also felt guilty for using Katie Brown as an excuse, hiding the fact that he was actually going to spend the afternoon with John in a long-planned lazy afternoon in bed. That plan had gone to shit in a manner that John felt excessive even for the Pegasus Galaxy.

Taking Carson home had been gut-wrenching and terrible, and all he'd been able to do was stand behind Rodney and give him the support he could manage with the surreptitious pressure to the back of Rodney's shoulder with his own. In Rodney's hotel room - his own sitting empty next door - Rodney had clung to him in the dark, saying nothing and barely moving, finally falling asleep with his face pressed tight to John's back.

They hadn't talked much. So, with not a little jealousy, John hoped that Rodney was able to find the words to tell Pete what he needed to say. On the way home from Scotland, Rodney had looked at him and asked, "Can we go to Canada?" John had assumed that wanted he wanted to see Jeanne and said so, to which Rodney had simply said, "No, Pete." So, John had sucked it up and asked Sam Carter to arrange it, which she did. John was pretty sure that the plane and the update to his license were meant as something of a consolation prize, despite the fact that she really couldn't have known.

When Maria called for lunch, Geoffrey came over to Row Five and slumped down next to John.

"Food?" Geoffrey kicked his feet up onto the back of the seat in front of him.

"Whatever." John knew he sounded disgruntled.

"Jealous, huh?" Geoffrey said, crossing his arms over his chest.

John slumped forward. "Well, yeah," he said. "You?"

"Quite." They brooded side by side for a moment, and then John straightened in his seat, shaking off his mood. "We're pathetic," he said. "Take me to your burger."

At lunch, Geoffrey made John eat poutine, which he loved, and John tried to get Geoffrey to eat a rare cheeseburger. "Jesus," Geoffrey said, looking away as John's burger dripped red on the plate. "A good vet could probably still save that."

John took a bite and made mooing noises. Geoffrey shuddered delicately and turned back to his sandwich. "What do you think they're doing?" he said, pushing the plate away.

"Talking," John said. "Rodney's best friend died and he wanted to talk to Pete."

Geoffrey shrugged and tossed his napkin onto the table. "That the friend you were taking home?"

John nodded, not really all that surprised at Geoffrey's paying attention so closely. "Yeah. It sucked."

Geoffrey stood and threw some bills onto the table. John followed him. When they got back to the theatre, the actors weren't back yet. Geoffrey looked sharply at John. "You know how to act?"

John snorted. "I know how to act like a jackass."

Geoffrey nodded. "What else do you know how to do?"

John narrowed his eyes. "Shoot. Blow shit up. Fight. Brood, if you ask Rodney."

Geoffrey looked him over. "Hero stuff, then?"

John rolled his eyes, and Geoffrey grinned at him. "You want to beat up some actors?"

The ride back from the lake was quiet. Rodney didn't speed; he just lowered the windows and let the wind blow his hair. Pete didn't try to make conversation.

Once the car was parked, Rodney reached over and put his hand on Pete's knee. "Thanks," he said. "I needed to talk to somebody about it."

Pete put his hand over Rodney's, warm and heavy. "Why not John?"

"He's too close to the situation," Rodney said. "He just wants to make it okay, and it isn't."

Rodney was glad that Pete didn't answer. He was surprised to realize how natural Pete's touch felt - how easily his deep affection for Pete was resurfacing. He suddenly thought about how easy and uncomplicated they'd been together - no threats of death, no constant fear - just the simple joy of being together that Rodney had been so close to forgetting.

"I," Rodney said, turning his hand over and twining their fingers together. "I...I want..."

Pete squeezed Rodney's fingers. "Don't," he said, his voice rough. "Don't Rodney. Don't want. You know I..."

Rodney gently pulled his hand away before sighing and getting out of the car. He folded his arms on the roof and leaned his head on them. He stayed that way until Pete came around and rubbed his shoulder for a second.

"Let's go," Pete said. "Let's go in."

Rodney sighed. He didn't know what the hell was going on in his head. He had John, was in love with John. And Pete was in love with Geoffrey. He picked up his head and looked at Pete, who looked back at him, worried.

"I'm sorry," Rodney said. "I shouldn't have..."

Pete's hand closed on Rodney's shoulder and he looked down at the ground. "It's not just you," he said quietly. "But..."

Rodney turned far enough to put his hand on the back of Pete's neck and pull their foreheads together. "It's okay."

John and Geoffrey couldn't stop snickering as they walked up the street. Geoffrey had probably enjoyed John's version of "stage fighting training" way more than he should have. Then again, it seemed as if John had, too. As they came around the corner, they caught sight of Pete and Rodney standing next to the Mustang. Rodney's hand was on the nape of Pete's neck and Pete's hands rested lightly on Rodney's shoulders. Their foreheads were pressed together and their eyes were closed.

When Geoffrey started forward, John reached out and snagged him by the sleeve of his jacket. "Don't," he said quietly, "it's not what you think - it's a sign of...affection."

All of the tension drained out of Geoffrey and he gave John a questioning look.

"Cultural thing," John said. Geoffrey nodded, then took John around the side of the building to the front door.

When they got inside the apartment, Geoffrey dropped down onto the sofa. He made a curving gesture with his hand. "I don't like that," he told John. He wasn't sure about this newfound jealous streak. "And I don't particularly like that I don't like it."

John remained standing. "It's...a sign of respect and thanks. It doesn't have any hidden meaning."

Geoffrey nodded. "Okay," he said. "Go take a shower."

John sniffed at one armpit. "Are you saying I smell?"

"Absolutely," Geoffrey said, then he slumped down on his couch to try and figure out just when he'd gotten so possessive.

John hadn't lied when he said he was jealous. He wanted to be the one that Rodney turned to for everything. Realistically, he knew he couldn't be, but he was pretty sure that he'd be a lot less jealous if it was Jeanne comforting Rodney instead of Pete.

Though, John had to admit that he'd enjoyed his time with Geoffrey. It was like the aimless screwing around that he hadn't been able to do in years. Watching Geoffrey deftly herd the actors, trying to drive them to one small moment of genius, had reminded him of the way Rodney worked with his scientists or he himself worked with his men. Beating up the actors under the guise of training had been pretty fun, too.

John felt a rush of cool air when the bathroom door opened, then another when Rodney stepped into the shower with him.

"Hey," John said mildly. Rodney just leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

John soaped his hands and rubbed them over Rodney's chest, drawing slow circles to work up more suds. Rodney closed his eyes and kept his hands down by his sides.

John washed Rodney from head to toe, then washed himself, stopping from time to time to reach out. He touched Rodney's neck, his arm, his temple, his hip. John was surprised when Rodney reached for the conditioner and turned him to face the wall. John went without protest and just moaned quietly as Rodney opened him up and then slid slowly inside.

"Yeah," John said softly. Rodney hadn't touched him like this since Carson's death, had only clutched John like a lifeline under cover of darkness. John felt his chest tighten as Rodney moved so carefully in and out, so gently and sweetly. Rodney held him firmly by the hips, but made no effort to speed the pace. Pushing all the way in, he stopped and hooked his chin over John's shoulder.

"I almost made a mistake," Rodney said. "I almost lost another friend. And you."

John pressed his temple to Rodney's. "It's okay," he said. "Everything's okay now."

Rodney started moving again, as much as he could while keeping his chin over John's shoulder. Finally Rodney moved back far enough to get his hand onto John's cock, moving at the same languid pace as his hips.

John came just a moment before Rodney, both moaning quietly, quieter than the rainfall of the shower. When Rodney stilled against him, John pulled away, turning to ease Rodney into his arms.

"I almost," Rodney said, his breath hitching against John's neck.

"It's okay," John said, one hand splaying wide and warm against the small of Rodney's back. "Everything's fine," John soothed. "Welcome back."