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Title: And Liberty For All
Author name: Icarus
Author email: icarus_ancalion@yahoo.com
Category: Gen
Sub Category: Humor
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: John, Rodney
Summary: "You're a Republican?!"
DISCLAIMER: The characters and universe contained in this story are Copyright MGM, Showtime, Gekko, Double Secret. No infringement on their copyright is implied. Copyright © 2007 by Icarus Ancalion. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or part without the author's explicit permission. Ask, guys. I'm easy to reach and usually quite generous.
Author notes: Yes, I do think he probably is.


And Liberty For All
By Icarus

"You're a Republican?!" Rodney was aghast. Around them, the lunchroom continued its normal clatter and trickles of conversation. The commissary line moved at a steady pace without so much as a glance in their direction. Apparently everyone was used to ignoring Rodney.

John gave a patient tilt of his head as he explained it to the nice man. "I believe we need to be fiscally responsible."

"You're a Republican?!" Rodney repeated. He was beginning to sound like a broken record.

"Plus, they're usually strong on defense which is very important to me." A plaintive note had crept into John's voice as he leaned back. "Clinton now, he started cutting everything."

"How did I not know this?" Rodney asked the air, throwing up his hands.

"There're not a lot of chances to vote when we're all the way over here," John pointed out, starting to get irritated. "I don't think many of us voted in 2004, do you?"

"Yes, and look of the mess they made of things while I was gone!" Rodney huffed. He turned a chair around, straddling it as he plunked down across from John. "You are not allowed to participate in any sort of politics in the Pegasus Galaxy."

John frowned at him. "Why do you care? You're Canadian!"

"Hello?" Rodney raised a hand. "Hubble? 'Funding cuts' ring a bell?"

John made a face, eyes slanting to the side. "It's an orbiting piece of space junk."

Rodney's mouth opened and closed in horrified silence, long eyelashes blinking rapidly. John smirked at him and crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows in defiance. "I don't usually mention it because it's not exactly a popular party around here," John muttered defensively. "But I figured since, you know, you're Canadian…." He gave Rodney an accusing look.

Rodney finally recovered, saying with a wave of his hand, "Okay, we'll get back to setting you straight on the greatest boon to astronomy and astrophysics later. How could you possibly vote for—oh, I don't even want to say the name. I mean—Iraq?" His eyebrows rumpled in real distress.

John rolled his eyes and sighed, slumping a little. "Relax, Rodney. It's not like I've ever voted." He shrugged and squirmed uncomfortably. "Never really had the time. But tacitly…." He tipped his head and nodded.

Rodney stared off into space, eyes glazed. "Golf," he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. "I should have known from the golf. Only Republicans play that wasteful, stupid game."

"Hey!" John said, finally taking offense. "I'll have you know virtually every medal of honor winner played golf."

"They did?"

"No idea. But they were almost all Scottish so I like to think so," John said, amusement glimmering under the surface at successfully derailing Rodney's rant. He stood, picking up his lunch tray. "Anyway," he added as a smug parting shot. "My dad left me a little something and I'd like to see it grow." He gave a little mocking nod as he turned away.

"Aha." Rodney picked up his tray and followed him. "I begin to see whose fault this is. I'll cure you of your lemming ways yet. Daddy was wrong about a lot of things."

They both dropped off their trays with a clatter, and John ignored him as he headed for the transporters, passing bubbling tubes of water and Ancient art deco architecture. It was almost surreal to have this conversation here, ten gazillion miles from where it mattered. But Rodney was unshakeable.

Rodney trailed after him, calling out, "Aid for the homeless?"

"You can't help everyone," John fired over his shoulder, not looking back.

"Massive deficit spending?"

"Fiscal responsibility, remember? The neo-cons abandoned the basics." John lengthened his stride, trying to put some distance between himself and Rodney.

Rodney cast about himself helplessly. Then he pointed at John, victorious. "The environment!" He pulled out the big guns, stopping. "Drilling in the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge."

John paused with a wince. He turned and looked at Rodney. "Okay. I kinda disagree with them there. That's the last American frontier. I always wanted to live in a cabin in Alaska, just for one year, see if I could hack it."

Rodney trumpeted his victory, pumping his fist. "Aha. Leverage!"

John rolled his eyes. He stepped into the transporter and hit the location for the gateroom. He said dryly, folding his hands, "Right about now I'm kinda glad you don't have access to the internet." Because there was no way a kid who'd build a nuclear bomb knew all that much about the environment.

"I don't need it," Rodney said cheerfully, eyes alight with glee. He spread his arms. "I have an entire botany department!" John groaned.

As the transporter doors slid shut, John heard Rodney talking on his radio.

"Hello, Katie? Yes, well, drop whatever you're doing because this is an emergency."


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