Atlantis fic (I surrender, Sinden!)
Well I've clearly gone insane and lost the ability to both code and cut. I sincerely apologise to anyone I drove to join me.
I've also succumbed to the all conquering army that is Stargate: Atlantis. Herein my contribution to the sga_flashfic 'Documentation' challenge. Rodney/John, naturally. G.
The best - okay the second - okay, the third best - thing about getting married, Rodney decided on Day 6 of his honeymoon when he finally got out of bed, was that your stuff got married too. It wouldn't make a huge difference in Atlantis, where their entire worldly goods consisted of dvds, cds, bootlegged avi files, catering packs of Cadbury's chocolate and Blue Mountain coffee, a handful of books and an orthopedic mattress, but on Earth… On Earth, where a minion from the SGC - bless the chain of command which apparently was good for something after all - had driven out to Arizona to close out John's account at a dodgy storage facility, depositing a dozen or so very neatly packed and taped boxes in Rodney's garage… On Earth it meant that finally, after years of curiosity, he had carte blanche to go through John's things.
John initially demurred, saying that his personal effects had lived in sealed boxes for most of the last fifteen years, and could quite happily continue to do so. A smile and an ode to sharing didn't work, so Rodney pulled out the big guns and shouted that 'personal effects' sounded entirely too much like the sort of thing that was kept in a footlocker and shipped home to your grieving widow when you splattered yourself across a dusty hillside. Once he said it, he realised he actually meant it, and wasn't just playing dirty. Being able to contain your entire life in a nine square metre storage unit was just wrong, and keeping your boxes taped up and precisely labelled at all times was tantamount to admitting you were never coming back and wanted to make life easy for your next of kin.
The fight went out of John when Rodney's voice broke, and he agreed to a compromise whereby Rodney could bring some of John's stuff in if John could throw some of Rodney's stuff out. And tidy the house, but that went without saying. So John hit the bedroom, and Rodney went out to the garage with a boxcutter and a terrifying grin. John's militarily accurate labelling system made finding paydirt easy. But better than John's degrees was... John's old school reports. John looked pretty miserable, though, when he saw them, so Rodney got down some of his own as well...
Rodney's first report (cover)
Rodney's first report (body)
John's first report (cover)
John's first report (body)
Rodney (later)
John (later)
ETA: Originally posted at sga_flashfic. Reposted here for completeness.
I've also succumbed to the all conquering army that is Stargate: Atlantis. Herein my contribution to the sga_flashfic 'Documentation' challenge. Rodney/John, naturally. G.
The best - okay the second - okay, the third best - thing about getting married, Rodney decided on Day 6 of his honeymoon when he finally got out of bed, was that your stuff got married too. It wouldn't make a huge difference in Atlantis, where their entire worldly goods consisted of dvds, cds, bootlegged avi files, catering packs of Cadbury's chocolate and Blue Mountain coffee, a handful of books and an orthopedic mattress, but on Earth… On Earth, where a minion from the SGC - bless the chain of command which apparently was good for something after all - had driven out to Arizona to close out John's account at a dodgy storage facility, depositing a dozen or so very neatly packed and taped boxes in Rodney's garage… On Earth it meant that finally, after years of curiosity, he had carte blanche to go through John's things.
John initially demurred, saying that his personal effects had lived in sealed boxes for most of the last fifteen years, and could quite happily continue to do so. A smile and an ode to sharing didn't work, so Rodney pulled out the big guns and shouted that 'personal effects' sounded entirely too much like the sort of thing that was kept in a footlocker and shipped home to your grieving widow when you splattered yourself across a dusty hillside. Once he said it, he realised he actually meant it, and wasn't just playing dirty. Being able to contain your entire life in a nine square metre storage unit was just wrong, and keeping your boxes taped up and precisely labelled at all times was tantamount to admitting you were never coming back and wanted to make life easy for your next of kin.
The fight went out of John when Rodney's voice broke, and he agreed to a compromise whereby Rodney could bring some of John's stuff in if John could throw some of Rodney's stuff out. And tidy the house, but that went without saying. So John hit the bedroom, and Rodney went out to the garage with a boxcutter and a terrifying grin. John's militarily accurate labelling system made finding paydirt easy. But better than John's degrees was... John's old school reports. John looked pretty miserable, though, when he saw them, so Rodney got down some of his own as well...
Rodney's first report (cover)
Rodney's first report (body)
John's first report (cover)
John's first report (body)
Rodney (later)
John (later)
ETA: Originally posted at sga_flashfic. Reposted here for completeness.