"Oh, come on, Sheppard!" Rodney stared up at John where he was perched on a beautiful bay stallion. "We used to be friends."

"War changes things, McKay," John said, but Rodney could see that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "Take it off."

Rodney glowered at him, but began unbuttoning his grey tunic. "Can't believe you turned Yankee on me, Sheppard," he muttered.

"It's not my fault my family moved, Rodney," John said quietly. "Do you think I wanted to go?"

"Yes," Rodney said, dropping the tunic to the ground and bending to pull his boots off. "You didn't even bother to say goodbye." He wouldn't look up. He couldn't stand to see Sheppard's face anymore.

He'd just pulled off one sock when he heard John dismount. He took off the other and stood, turning his face away. He flinched when John's gloved hand dropped to his shoulder and turned him around.

"I didn't want to leave, Rodney," he said quietly. "I didn't want to leave you."

Rodney pulled away, staring at the ground. He looked up when a pair of gloves hit the ground by his feet. John was unbuttoning his own blue tunic.

"I missed you," John said.