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Caritas; Thursday Evening

It was Wallace's first day at work, and he could already tell this would be the easiest job he's ever had. He could drink all he wanted, Tino was fun to hit on, and the band was way better than Sex Bob-Omb. Even if he couldn't understand a damn thing they were singing.

It was a pretty sweet deal.

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1. I will be afk around 7:30 but I'll be back like an hour or so later. I'm going to my sister's so she can lecture me while I zone out.

2. Scott Pilgrim opens in theaters tomorrow. You should see it.

I would go see it, but I'm still in for a looong wait.

Seriously, October 1st? JFC FINLAND, THIS SHIT DOES NOT AMUSE ME.

Thursdays meant Chuck was tending bar and John was stopping in to bug him. "Ahh, the bliss of zombie music. So much better than that French crap blasting through my apartment." Or talk bugs, whatever.

"You don't like it?" Wallace asked, leaning across the bar in what he thought was a flirty manner because, hi, hot guy. "I was kind of feeling it for a while before realizing it was gross bugs making the noise."

Was Chuck showing interest? Hmm. John was ever hopeful to meet the new clone, but come on, like he'd work for Chuck. "Celine's not really my style," John shared. "Were they Johnny Cash bugs, I might not be signing on for a week in the cabins. Feel kinda old to camp like a student."

"Come on, you're never too old for s'mores and singing around a campfire." Wallace really couldn't judge the cabins. He had spent the majority of the last few years sharing a bed with Scott because they couldn't afford two beds. He was just happy to sleep by himself.

S'mores and singing? John was 99% certain this was the new guy. "Okay, you've got me on the s'mores thing, but I guarantee no one wants to hear me sing along." That nasal voice didn't translate so well, no.

"Oh I'm sure you're very talented," Wallace said, being classy and not making an oral joke. "And I'm Wallace, by the way."

Might as well confirm John's suspicions before things got weird.

"I'm glad to hear that, Wallace," John said. "I'm John. Sheppard if you're particular." Last names were helpful when you had the second most popular name of the last century.

"You're the guy that wanted to meet me." Wallace had already become a big fan of radio. "Why's that? Aside from the fact that I'm awesome, I mean."

"Right, other than that." John couldn't disagree so far. "Mainly because I'm always intrigued by the personality differences in doubles. I dated a girl with her own taller, sluttier twin for a while."

"I'm taller than Chuck," Wallace said. "I can't tell if I'm sluttier or not yet."

Now that was an interesting comment to follow up on. "Do you think you're sluttier?"

Wallace tilted his head to the side as he thought about that. He knew the Chuck Bass reputation after all, since he was a fan of the show, but still...

"No, I'm probably not," he admitted. "But I do love having sex."

John laughed, "If you didn't, I'd say there's something wrong with you." But being less of a slut than Chuck was probably a plus for this guy.

"Okay, that's true," he said. "But what if I said I was sluttier? Would you stop talking to me?"

"No way, I'm an equal opportunity conversationalist," John declared as if this was a thing.

"Okay, that's fine then," Wallace said. "I have no room in my life for people who judge sluts."

If only John was aware of how slutty he could be.

"Some of my best friends are sluts." Teyla would hit him for that one.

Wallace raised an eyebrow. "What are you then? Slut, virgin or in-between?"

"Well, I've already kind-of rejected the slut idea," John considered, putting on his thoughtful face for Wallace. "And we missed virgin by many, many years. So, while in-between sounds vague, it's probably accurate."

"Interesting," Wallace said even if there was nothing interesting about it. "Okay, answer me this. If you met your doppelganger would you sleep with him?"

"I'd at least try," John admitted, though he wondered if his Mensa alter ego would go that way. He knew that FBI guy had flat out rejected the idea. "Wait, did you...and Chuck?"

"That is none of your damn business," Wallace said with a grin. "I was just doing some recon."

Yeah, he totally slept with dudes. Awesome.

"Recon." Nice term there. "That make you a soldier in another life?"

"No, I've just watched a lot of movies with soldiers," he said. "Besides, I'm Canadian. Even if I were involved in the military there, I doubt we'd do any cool stuff like recon."

John felt like he was meant to be surrounded by Canadians and aliens all his life. "No, but the Canadians I worked with in the military always had plenty of sunscreen and power bars. You can draw your own conclusions there."

"Canadians in the military are like den mothers. That seems about right," Wallace decided. "I hope they drew the line at breaking out juice boxes. That'd just be embarrassing."

"Man, now you have me wanting to get them to carry the juice boxes in their gear," John said, grinning at the mental picture this provided.

"Hopefully they'll realize how nerdy that is an refuse," Wallace said. He shook his head. "What am I talking about, of course they're that nerdy."

"These guys are doctors - the science kind. It doesn't get much nerdier." And wow, John needed non-nerdy friends. "Don't tell 'em I said that."

"You don't have to worry about it," Wallace told him. "Contrary to popular belief, we Canadians aren't in constant contact with each other."

"Now that's just disappointing," John complained. "Say 'eh' for me."

Wallace folded his arms across his chest. "Do I look like some Canadian plaything to you? I'll 'eh' when I'm damn good and ready."

John grinned since Wallace had, in fact, said eh. "Never gets old."

"That 'eh' totally didn't count," Wallace insisted. "That one didn't either."

"Then you definitely shouldn't say you're sore-y," John teased, trying to get another Canadianism out of the guy.

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Caritas; Thursday Evening

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Back Room

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