[The moment John says that that was one of the best days of his life, Rodney's expression goes flat and he makes a put-upon sigh, shaking his head as he continues peering up at the mistletoe floating so unobtrusively over them as it glows.]
Don't tell me this is magic.
[Rodney says the word like it's a curse word, something particularly obscene, with that combination of disgust and disbelief. He still doesn't really believe in magic despite the number of times he's seen it in action - even now, while he's directly calling it magic, some part of him is looking for the force field generator because his formidable brain refuses to admit that magic could be real.
But when John says that second part, Rodney feels a ridiculous and completely out of place spike of hurt. His shoulders square, his brows furrow, and he looks at John for a moment before laughing a little uncomfortably.]
Well, mine too. The worst, I mean, not the best. Though, that was a good day, at least before I realized the shield was going to kill me.
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Don't tell me this is magic.
[Rodney says the word like it's a curse word, something particularly obscene, with that combination of disgust and disbelief. He still doesn't really believe in magic despite the number of times he's seen it in action - even now, while he's directly calling it magic, some part of him is looking for the force field generator because his formidable brain refuses to admit that magic could be real.
But when John says that second part, Rodney feels a ridiculous and completely out of place spike of hurt. His shoulders square, his brows furrow, and he looks at John for a moment before laughing a little uncomfortably.]
Well, mine too. The worst, I mean, not the best. Though, that was a good day, at least before I realized the shield was going to kill me.