Title: Safely Home
Prompt:
writerverse challenge #33 amnesty round (challenge #11 random madness)
Book and Line Used: “Recognizing the situation straightaway, Ella’s father stepped forward, handing the coachman a few coins for his trouble.” (Have Courage, Be Kind: The Tale of Cinderella, by Brittany Candau, page 42)
Word Count: 451
Rating: G
Fandom/Original: Stargate Atlantis (part of my
Two Gentlemen ‘verse)
Pairings: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Summary: John returns home after a police patrol.
Note(s): originally posted to the
writerverse wv_library Safely Home
John’s patrol shift wasn’t over for another hour, so when Rodney saw the police wagon draw to a stop outside their building, he rushed out to meet it, still in his dressing gown. It wasn’t until he saw the familiar mop of dark hair through the carriage window that he realized he’d been fearing the worst and let out a shaky breath of relief.
“John Sheppard,” he snapped, turning all of his worry into anger. “What in God’s name do you mean by arriving home in this state?”
John got out of the wagon under his own power, but it was a near thing. One of his eyes was swollen almost shut, and there were dark stains- almost certainly blood- on his uniform.
Normally, Rodney quite enjoyed the sight of John in his policeman’s uniform. As a detective inspector, he wore a dark suit as well-tailored as their varied income could afford, but when he took patrols, John still wore his navy wool constable’s uniform. John claimed that it allowed him to show solidarity with the lower ranks while simultaneously encouraging the criminal element to underestimate him as merely an ‘ordinary’ policeman.
The former seemed to be working better than the latter- when Rodney caught John’s arm to prevent him from falling, face-first, into the pavement, the young officer who had been driving the carriage started forward uncertainly.
“Will Inspector Sheppard be all right?” he asked.
“He will be fine,” Rodney growled, as much a threat to John as a reassurance to the young man.
“I- Yes, sir.”
John threw the young officer a sloppy salute, nearly poking himself in the eye, and Rodney tightened his arm around John’s waist as the wagon pulled away.
“Have you seen a doctor?” Rodney demanded.
“Only a few scratches,” scoffed John.
Rodney changed direction on their front steps to bang on the door next to theirs. “Beckett!”
“Don’t wake him,” John protested, too late, “It’s only just dawn and- Good morning, Carson.”
The doctor was also in his dressing gown, clutching a cup of tea. “Rodney,” he said, “D’ye have any idea what time- John, you’re hurt!”
He went from sleepily annoyed to calmly professional, almost instantly.
“Come in, lad, let me have a look at you. Laura!” he called, to his wife, “Put on another pot of tea, won’t you, love? John’s gone and gotten himself hurt!”
“What, again?” said Mrs. Beckett, clattering down the stairs.
John scowled as Rodney led him inside, but held still as the doctor examined him. “Nothing serious, John,” said Carson. “Rodney, lad, you can take him home now.”
“Oh, can he?” John drawled, but he leaned gratefully against Rodney until they were back inside their own apartments.
THE END
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