Ficlet: Momentum (John, Ronon, Keller) (SGA) PG
Title: Momentum
Fandom: SGA
Characters: John, Ronon, Keller (references to Ronon/Keller)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For Quarantine
Word Count: 839
A/N: I wrote Perpetual Motion a while back, and Quaratine (as well as a comment by poisontaster) pompted this.
*
John's spent countless hours beneath the city, watching Ronon propel himself forward like a force of nature, up and over and across barriers that might as well not exist.
He's also watched, from a close distance, as Ronon's made the west section of the city--with its short buildings and close rooftops--his own playground, tethered at John's insistence and scoffing of the safety measure (which has admittedly been unnecessary so far but which John still won't let him do without).
He's stood on more than a few balconies with Ronon and stared up at the central tower, while Ronon's assessed the architecture with narrowed eyes, his limbs twitching absently as he made the ascent in his mind.
"It'd be easy," Ronon's said. He's pointed out handholds, places where he could jump off from, grab points at which he could swing his body up-and-forward-always-moving, hooks around which he could curl his ankle or knee and continue his momentum.
*
It's only because of Ronon that John even comes up with the idea of climbing from the lab to the control room.
It is not, despite Ronon's assertion, easy. At all. Which shouldn't be surprising, since John and Ronon have vastly different ideas of easy.
They also have entirely different approaches. John's been trained in climbing, in scaling, but what Ronon does is entirely different. Where John is dangling and scrambling for someplace to hook his fingers, Ronon would be swinging and swaying without concern, years of Running having instilled in him a gut instinct for seeing opportunities where others don't and a desperate need to keep move-move-moving.
*
Several months later, it's John who invites Dr. Keller down to the lowest level of the south section of the city. She gets there just as Ronon hits his zone, where nothing exists but his obstacle course of foundation spires, tension wires and access catwalks.
Keller steps up beside John, hesitant and confused. "Colonel?"
"Watch," John says. "Just watch."
Ronon crosses the massive expanse of the entire south part of the city faster than John could run it. He catapults from catwalks, swings himself forward from the spires, and uses the tensile flexibility of the tension wires to cover large distances with a minimum of effort.
"Oh," Keller breathes. "It's--what is this? Why is he doing this?"
John watches as Ronon leaps from a small platform to a wall where he automatically fits his booted foot into a crevice and propels himself to the left so that he can hook an arm around a spire foundation and--well, keep going for so long that if John were to describe each motion it would be one long, never ending, run-on sentence.
Ronon is a body never at rest and always in motion. It's beautiful to watch, like some kind of mid-air ballet, or some sort of Cirque du Soleil performance. John can even admit without shame that Ronon himself is beautiful like this, doing this.
"This is Ronon." John looks at Keller and shrugs. "I just thought you should see it, know it."
Keller's face tightens and she folds her arms across her chest. "I know Ronon."
John doesn't doubt that, is absolutely certain that there are things she knows about Ronon that even John never will. That's not the point.
"Did you know this?"
She shakes her head reluctantly. "No. I mean, it makes sense, but...no."
John nods and then they watch Ronon again. When it becomes obvious that his target destination is a certain platform and that he's almost there, Keller takes a breath.
"Thank you. For this. I couldn't--I wouldn't have known this on my own."
She's already gone when John turns to reply.
*
On a balcony afterwards, Ronon stares at John pointedly, proving that he's always entirely aware of his surroundings even when he looks like he isn't.
John sighs. "I know it wasn't my place to show her, but you weren't going to do it. So."
"It's okay." Ronon's smile is small but genuine. "Thanks."
*
The next time, it's Ronon who brings Keller and leads her to the vantage point John's already staked out. This time they're not under the city but in one of the unused sections filled with detritus.
Before walking off to start, Ronon whispers something in Keller's ear that has her looking at John curiously.
"What?" John asks, but she just shrugs and shakes her head.
John lets it be and instead watches Ronon, breathes in metered time to Ronon's movements, and loses himself in the arcs and arches, the twists and spins, the measured and constant motion.
"Oh," Keller says at one point, faint and surprised. John makes a questioning noise and turns to her. She's staring at John, her eyes soft and her lips curled slightly. "Nothing. Just--watch him."
John does. When he looks back a short while later, she's gone.
She doesn't come to watch again, but she always joins them afterwards on whatever balcony they've retreated to and draws Ronon away with a smile.
*
.End
Fandom: SGA
Characters: John, Ronon, Keller (references to Ronon/Keller)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For Quarantine
Word Count: 839
A/N: I wrote Perpetual Motion a while back, and Quaratine (as well as a comment by poisontaster) pompted this.
*
John's spent countless hours beneath the city, watching Ronon propel himself forward like a force of nature, up and over and across barriers that might as well not exist.
He's also watched, from a close distance, as Ronon's made the west section of the city--with its short buildings and close rooftops--his own playground, tethered at John's insistence and scoffing of the safety measure (which has admittedly been unnecessary so far but which John still won't let him do without).
He's stood on more than a few balconies with Ronon and stared up at the central tower, while Ronon's assessed the architecture with narrowed eyes, his limbs twitching absently as he made the ascent in his mind.
"It'd be easy," Ronon's said. He's pointed out handholds, places where he could jump off from, grab points at which he could swing his body up-and-forward-always-moving, hooks around which he could curl his ankle or knee and continue his momentum.
*
It's only because of Ronon that John even comes up with the idea of climbing from the lab to the control room.
It is not, despite Ronon's assertion, easy. At all. Which shouldn't be surprising, since John and Ronon have vastly different ideas of easy.
They also have entirely different approaches. John's been trained in climbing, in scaling, but what Ronon does is entirely different. Where John is dangling and scrambling for someplace to hook his fingers, Ronon would be swinging and swaying without concern, years of Running having instilled in him a gut instinct for seeing opportunities where others don't and a desperate need to keep move-move-moving.
*
Several months later, it's John who invites Dr. Keller down to the lowest level of the south section of the city. She gets there just as Ronon hits his zone, where nothing exists but his obstacle course of foundation spires, tension wires and access catwalks.
Keller steps up beside John, hesitant and confused. "Colonel?"
"Watch," John says. "Just watch."
Ronon crosses the massive expanse of the entire south part of the city faster than John could run it. He catapults from catwalks, swings himself forward from the spires, and uses the tensile flexibility of the tension wires to cover large distances with a minimum of effort.
"Oh," Keller breathes. "It's--what is this? Why is he doing this?"
John watches as Ronon leaps from a small platform to a wall where he automatically fits his booted foot into a crevice and propels himself to the left so that he can hook an arm around a spire foundation and--well, keep going for so long that if John were to describe each motion it would be one long, never ending, run-on sentence.
Ronon is a body never at rest and always in motion. It's beautiful to watch, like some kind of mid-air ballet, or some sort of Cirque du Soleil performance. John can even admit without shame that Ronon himself is beautiful like this, doing this.
"This is Ronon." John looks at Keller and shrugs. "I just thought you should see it, know it."
Keller's face tightens and she folds her arms across her chest. "I know Ronon."
John doesn't doubt that, is absolutely certain that there are things she knows about Ronon that even John never will. That's not the point.
"Did you know this?"
She shakes her head reluctantly. "No. I mean, it makes sense, but...no."
John nods and then they watch Ronon again. When it becomes obvious that his target destination is a certain platform and that he's almost there, Keller takes a breath.
"Thank you. For this. I couldn't--I wouldn't have known this on my own."
She's already gone when John turns to reply.
*
On a balcony afterwards, Ronon stares at John pointedly, proving that he's always entirely aware of his surroundings even when he looks like he isn't.
John sighs. "I know it wasn't my place to show her, but you weren't going to do it. So."
"It's okay." Ronon's smile is small but genuine. "Thanks."
*
The next time, it's Ronon who brings Keller and leads her to the vantage point John's already staked out. This time they're not under the city but in one of the unused sections filled with detritus.
Before walking off to start, Ronon whispers something in Keller's ear that has her looking at John curiously.
"What?" John asks, but she just shrugs and shakes her head.
John lets it be and instead watches Ronon, breathes in metered time to Ronon's movements, and loses himself in the arcs and arches, the twists and spins, the measured and constant motion.
"Oh," Keller says at one point, faint and surprised. John makes a questioning noise and turns to her. She's staring at John, her eyes soft and her lips curled slightly. "Nothing. Just--watch him."
John does. When he looks back a short while later, she's gone.
She doesn't come to watch again, but she always joins them afterwards on whatever balcony they've retreated to and draws Ronon away with a smile.
*
.End