"Ah-ha, ha. Very funny," Rodney tells John. "I'm not going to be doing any whistling. Where did that even come from?" He's gotten a reading of something or other over that-a-way, and he's this close to wandering off, but the repetition of 'trap' really doesn't make him that enthusiastic about traipsing off into the haphazard junk-piles full of rust and disease. "I don't see why we're splitting up at all, not when that's a horrible idea."

There had been a time, or uh...multiple...times, when he'd just beelined for the first Ancient tech he'd spotted, operational safety be damned. It's not that he's learned his lesson, it's more that this is a junkyard and most of the stuff here is crap and he's really going to have to go digging for some of the blips he's gotten as possible positives, and that's tedious and he'd rather have a pair of hands to get dirty that aren't his. "You can't just leave me--" Rodney visibly wrenches his brain around because he's absolutely trying to be a team player and also Nice To Ianto and adds, a little belated, "and—and Ianto to wander around through hostile territory."

Oh, yeah, and, "He's not even trained," Rodney says with some small triumph.