Fic Snippet: SGA Everybody Out Of The Pool pre-MS
I have a snippet of a fic that I'm not sure where I want to go with other than smoochage.
The whole thing is built around Shep getting to say one of my favorite sayings ever, and successfully clearing a room.
A lifeguard friend of mine used to say it in any sort of "Hey, let's all calm down" situation, and John has just the perfect voice and laid-back manner for it.
~~~
It feels like half the project is in what Rodney is privately calling the Slap and Tingle room, because that's really all it does. Slap the suspiciously rosy-pink Ancient device and get a nice pleasant tingle...all over. Even, seemingly, the brain, causing all users just to stand there like dumb posts, happily tingling, as if there were nothing strange about it. This why Rodney is only working on the controls with full gloves, because who knows what else the machine is doing to them. It's could be a friendly, glowy tingly pitcher-plant for all they know, and if there's one thing that Rodney is suspicious of in this galaxy, it's friendly things that glow and tingle.
Scientists and soldiers crowd peacefully into the room, squirming and warm and sighing and it's VERY distracting. Rodney is shrieking and trying to get people to just GO AWAY, nothing to see here, please please go away and let me work, and no I don't care if it makes gives you a happy when you touch it, GO AWAY.
It's not working, mostly because they're all so used to Rodney screaming they just don't care. And they're feeling pretty good.
John walks in, surveys the chaos, plants his hands on his hips and says in his best commanding officer/lifeguard/big-brother-who-really-means-it-this-time-tone, "Okay, that's it! Everybody out of the pool!"
There is no actual pool.
This doesn't stop everyone that is not Rodney from tucking their metaphorical tails between their legs and scuttling off, looking slightly guilty. And regretful, as if disappointing Sheppard really kicks their puppy.
He waves one hand briskly, shooing them. "That's it, just keep walking," he says in his sternest drawl.
The room clears, and John stands, magisterially, hands still on hips, surveying the now empty-but-for-Rodney-room. His expression implies this room is a good room, and he will call it...this room.
A vein starts throbbing on Rodney's forehead. Sweaty and flustered, he squeaks with fury, "How do you do that?"
John smiles mysteriously, shoves his hands in his pockets and bounces a couple of times.
Rodney glares. "I hate you."
"Aw, Rodney, don't go saying that," he drawls, entirely too pleased. He moseys over to where Rodney is angrily and protectively trying to turn off or dismantle the Slap and Tingle.
"Whatcha doin?" John asks amiably, seconds away from leaning comfortably on the rosy surface of the problem machine, just above where Rodney is working.
In microseconds, Rodney is up and shoving Sheppard away. "Don't touch that," he says a little breathlessly. He had no idea he could move that fast.
"I had no idea you could move that fast," John says, genuinely surprised. "You've been holding out on me."
"I didn't. I. Well," Rodney says helpfully. John blinks at him a few times encouragingly.
"Thanks for saving me from...?
"Not really sure, um. It, ah, causes a tingling sensation," he responds, blushing.
John's eyebrows shoot up. "Tingling?"
"And it obviously brought half the city in here like lemmings to try to touch it, so, well, I didn't want you to...be affected. Don't really know the...ramifications..."
"Thank you," John says graciously, "for protecting me from the giant Magic Fingers."
Rodney is not sure why he is holding Sheppard against the wall. "Um, well, yes," he replies. "No problem."
John licks his lower lip. "And really, who says," he wonders aloud, looking down at Rodney's hand clutching his biceps, "that I wouldn't be tingling anyway?"
Rodney looks down at his hands and back up at Sheppard and swallows, hard.
~~~
And that's where it ends, right now. Or ever. I don't know. May your evening be tingly! Comment fic welcome!
The whole thing is built around Shep getting to say one of my favorite sayings ever, and successfully clearing a room.
A lifeguard friend of mine used to say it in any sort of "Hey, let's all calm down" situation, and John has just the perfect voice and laid-back manner for it.
~~~
It feels like half the project is in what Rodney is privately calling the Slap and Tingle room, because that's really all it does. Slap the suspiciously rosy-pink Ancient device and get a nice pleasant tingle...all over. Even, seemingly, the brain, causing all users just to stand there like dumb posts, happily tingling, as if there were nothing strange about it. This why Rodney is only working on the controls with full gloves, because who knows what else the machine is doing to them. It's could be a friendly, glowy tingly pitcher-plant for all they know, and if there's one thing that Rodney is suspicious of in this galaxy, it's friendly things that glow and tingle.
Scientists and soldiers crowd peacefully into the room, squirming and warm and sighing and it's VERY distracting. Rodney is shrieking and trying to get people to just GO AWAY, nothing to see here, please please go away and let me work, and no I don't care if it makes gives you a happy when you touch it, GO AWAY.
It's not working, mostly because they're all so used to Rodney screaming they just don't care. And they're feeling pretty good.
John walks in, surveys the chaos, plants his hands on his hips and says in his best commanding officer/lifeguard/big-brother-who-really-means-it-this-time-tone, "Okay, that's it! Everybody out of the pool!"
There is no actual pool.
This doesn't stop everyone that is not Rodney from tucking their metaphorical tails between their legs and scuttling off, looking slightly guilty. And regretful, as if disappointing Sheppard really kicks their puppy.
He waves one hand briskly, shooing them. "That's it, just keep walking," he says in his sternest drawl.
The room clears, and John stands, magisterially, hands still on hips, surveying the now empty-but-for-Rodney-room. His expression implies this room is a good room, and he will call it...this room.
A vein starts throbbing on Rodney's forehead. Sweaty and flustered, he squeaks with fury, "How do you do that?"
John smiles mysteriously, shoves his hands in his pockets and bounces a couple of times.
Rodney glares. "I hate you."
"Aw, Rodney, don't go saying that," he drawls, entirely too pleased. He moseys over to where Rodney is angrily and protectively trying to turn off or dismantle the Slap and Tingle.
"Whatcha doin?" John asks amiably, seconds away from leaning comfortably on the rosy surface of the problem machine, just above where Rodney is working.
In microseconds, Rodney is up and shoving Sheppard away. "Don't touch that," he says a little breathlessly. He had no idea he could move that fast.
"I had no idea you could move that fast," John says, genuinely surprised. "You've been holding out on me."
"I didn't. I. Well," Rodney says helpfully. John blinks at him a few times encouragingly.
"Thanks for saving me from...?
"Not really sure, um. It, ah, causes a tingling sensation," he responds, blushing.
John's eyebrows shoot up. "Tingling?"
"And it obviously brought half the city in here like lemmings to try to touch it, so, well, I didn't want you to...be affected. Don't really know the...ramifications..."
"Thank you," John says graciously, "for protecting me from the giant Magic Fingers."
Rodney is not sure why he is holding Sheppard against the wall. "Um, well, yes," he replies. "No problem."
John licks his lower lip. "And really, who says," he wonders aloud, looking down at Rodney's hand clutching his biceps, "that I wouldn't be tingling anyway?"
Rodney looks down at his hands and back up at Sheppard and swallows, hard.
~~~
And that's where it ends, right now. Or ever. I don't know. May your evening be tingly! Comment fic welcome!