Word count: 460
Characters: Sheppard, McKay
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Rodney makes a very good point about swimming.
"You sure you understand the point of a vacation, Rodney?" John flopped down across the foot of Rodney's bed and stared up at the hotel room ceiling -- bright white stucco with occasional patches in an almost beige tone where water damage had been painted over. The duvet on the bed smelled slightly like detergent, but it was a clean smell. Comforting. The duvet was also incredibly soft and pillowy.
"Vacation. A period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation." Rodney said without looking away from his computer. The hotel's wireless was slower than he would have liked, but it was free. "You get what you pay for," he muttered to no one.
John sat up again.
"Right. Exactly. Pleasure. Relaxation. Rest. Going to an astrophysics symposium doesn't seem to fall under any of those headings."
"Unless you're me. In that case, a symposium is not only pleasurable, it's relaxing." He turned to face John and folded his arms across his chest. "Why are you in my room?"
"I was going to head down to the pool. Thought I'd stop by, see if you wanted to come with me. Have a little swim, check out girls in bathing suits, maybe hit the bar afterward. You know. Things normal people consider fun."
Rodney counted off a list on his fingers. "It's a hotel pool. In Massachusetts. In October."
"It's a heated, indoor pool!" John interjected quickly.
"The 'girls in bathing suits' are going to be few and far between. And never mind just how disgusting a swimming pool is."
"They put che--"
"Yes. They put chemicals in the water. And you swim in those chemicals. They get into your mouth and your eyes and your ears and on your..." he gestured vaguely around his groin, "skin." He finished, drew a breath, and started again. "And does anyone really know how effective those chemicals are? You're swimming in water with strangers. Their skin is sloughing off in the water. The water's washing all sorts of contaminates and mucous and stuff off them and you're paddling around in it. In someone else's washed-off DNA! That's... that's creepy, John. But, go if you want. I'll be here. Don't come running to me if you pick up some weird disease or your skin starts to fall off or things turn green." He turned his attention back to the computer.
John stared, not quite sure what to think. He had to admit that, phrased that way, the prospect was pretty disgusting. He stood up and started for Rodney's door. "I'll be in my room if you want to get something to eat."
The closing door cut off Rodney's parting words.
"I thought you were going swimming?"
