(no subject)
Title: I Am The Weapon (a.k.a. Miles To Go Before We Sleep Together)
Rating: PG for this section. NC-17 for the series.
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Oh, all the way through to the bitter end. Seriously. Pretty much every episode.
Genre: Episode Tags
Warnings: Unbetaed AND it's the first thing (well, er, things) I've ever written of my own free will.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: They don't always get along...
A/N: Comments= Love!
For rubygirl29, who wasn't pestering me at all. :)
70 Infection
Sheppard tightened the laces on his boots and glanced around the locker room, gauging the readiness of his men. Across the bench, he watched Ronon's knife flash smoothly as it spun in his hand, easy and calm. Not agitated, not nervous, not angry, and most importantly, not so cocky or proud that he'd be likely to buck orders up on the hive.
It wasn't an omen, or anything like that. Hanging expectations on the spin of a knife was ridiculous. But Lorne's eyes followed Sheppard's to the knife. "Looks like we’re good," he agreed, before stepping away to zip up his vest.
Sheppard clapped his hands once to get their attention, which he already had, and gave the order. They were ready to go.
---
I don't have time for this shit.
"Colonel Sheppard, all due respect, we have some very valid concerns about your head injury." Ryerson waved his arms in a vain attempt to get Sheppard back into his bed. "You blacked out."
"And I'm back now, aren't I? I'm fine. Give me my damned radio. I need to check on my people."
"Your team is fine. They're almost ready to be released."
"Good." Sheppard finished buttoning his shirt. "But they're not the only people I have to worry about, okay? We lost Williams and Linden. I need to talk to Lorne and Ramirez. There's work to do. Now."
"Lorne and Ramirez didn't hit their heads. They can handle it. It's important that-"
Sheppard managed to stop his eyes from rolling, and made sure to keep his voice down. "It's important that I see to my men. If you're this worried about a bump on the head, what are you going to do about my second in command? Until I know where Lorne's head is at, I'm not sitting around waiting for you to decide that I'm ready to stand."
"While that's great, but I have to take responsibility for the lives of everyone in this city."
"Don't give me that. You're right, I don't disagree, but that's the worst argument you can give me right now." He ran a hand over his head, fingering the lump under his hair gingerly. "Because right now? Either myself of Lorne has to take responsibility for the losses of two Marines. Williams was on Lorne's team for three years, Doc, and I might have hit my head, but it's the only one in the game right now, and we've still got a wraith in the city. Understand?"
"Yes, Colonel." Ryerson's terse agreement wasn't exactly heartfelt, but it was enough for now.
"Okay then. Tell you what. I'll be back in two hours, and you can, I don't know, shine lights in my eyes again or something. That's always fun."
---
Ronon was still thinking about the hunting trip when he noticed the movement in the mess hall doorway. Parrish and Banks, heading towards the counter, nothing more. Not some wraith drone soldier, and not Sheppard. He wasn't sure who he'd been expecting. When he turned back to his work, Kanaan was trying not to laugh at him.
"You look an awful lot like McKay when you do that," Kanaan observed, examining the ragged edge of the fishing net Ronon was helping him repair. "Watching the door as if expecting your next meal or disaster to step through at any moment."
"Shouldn't I be flailing around a lot more?"
"I suppose. Try it."
"Shut up." Ronon smirked, bringing the needle around to finish another knot. "You're the one hiding out from Teyla."
"She was unimpressed with my concern. I thought it best to let her spend some time with Torren in peace and quiet," he admitted, "and wait for her sense of humor to return."
"Is she doing all right?"
"Apart from falling out of the sky and coming home to a crying child who missed his nap, she is doing quite well. Have you seen the other members of your team?"
"Last I saw, McKay was still in the infirmary, hovering over Keller's twisted ankle."
"I am sure the doctors on duty are relieved someone is there to make sure they do not accidentally amputate." Kanaan finsihed braiding the fibers back together and set about reinforcing the knot.
"Well, you never know."
"And Colonel Sheppard?"
"Probably in his office, taking out his aggression on the paperwork." When he looked up again, Kanaan was nodding at him slightly, before shaking his head and changing gears.
"So how are you doing?"
"Apparently, I'm turning into McKay. How would you feel?"
"Quite unsettled, and also like I was avoiding the question."
Ronon sighed, dropping the netting to his lap. Though he was more laid back, Kanaan could sometimes be more tenacious than Teyla. "Just thinking that today didn't end up the way I thought it would."
"You did not expect to find yourself on a hive ship, fighting the wraith, and facing certain death?"
"Actually, that didn't surprise me." He scowled, trying to think. "But losing two guys did."
"I would imagine so."
"Yeah, but," Ronon shook his head, picking up the needle again. "It didn't use to."
---
Lorne seemed tense, and a little nervous when Sheppard stopped by his quarters for the second time, but looked relieved when John didn't force him to talk, and accepted the bottle of whiskey with a quiet "Thanks."
It wouldn't help, not much, but there wasn't much else John could do right then, besides not noticing Doctor Kusanagi stopping in front of Lorne's quarters as the transporter door closed.
---
When he stepped through the door Ronon was on his bed, arms draped over flannel-clad knees, the knife twirling over his fingers lethargically.
John didn't bother asking if he'd been waiting for him. "Been sitting there long?"
He looked around, trying to get some sense of what Ronon had been up to for the past few hours, but found nothing, and wound up staring at the painting of the Satedan soldiers. It was the brightest thing in the room, and caught his attention as it often did when he was too tired to look elsewhere.
"Not really." Ronon slid his feet over, making room on the bed, and put the knife on the nightstand. "You actually get cleared to leave the infirmary this time?"
"You heard about that, huh?" John wished he didn't feel the eyes in the painting following him as he sat down to take his boots off.
"Overheard Keller talking with him about it when I went to see if she and McKay wanted to grab dinner."
"It was stupid. Went back after I sent Todd through the gate. Got checked out. I'm fine." John shook his head to clear the ghost soldiers out. "Anyhow, how're you doing?"
"Fine. Going out hunting tomorrow with Kanaan and some of the other Athosians. Want to come?"
"Can't. Tomorrow's going to be busy. But, if you're looking for more people, try Ramirez, Lorne, and their guys. They might want some distraction right now."
"Okay." Ronon leaned shifted his knee so it was pressing against John's back. "How about you?"
"I need sleep," he said, but made no move to remove his clothes. The soldiers in the painting were beginning to look blurry; he couldn't see their faces anymore.
"Okay," Ronon repeated, this time to himself, moving around on the bed and bringing his hands up around John to start working on the buttons of his shirt.
John let himself lean back against Ronon's chest, making it easier, making contact that wasn't broken until he stood to remove his BDU's.
"Almost forgot," he crawled back onto the bed, steadying himself with a hand on the side of Ronon's neck, and managed to kiss him once before his balance began to slip.
Ronon eased them both back down against the pillows, and was probably still kissing him when he fell asleep. He reached over to turn the lamp off, and curled back around John, and lay awake until their breaths began to match.
71 Identity
Rating: PG for this section. NC-17 for the series.
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Oh, all the way through to the bitter end. Seriously. Pretty much every episode.
Genre: Episode Tags
Warnings: Unbetaed AND it's the first thing (well, er, things) I've ever written of my own free will.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: They don't always get along...
A/N: Comments= Love!
For rubygirl29, who wasn't pestering me at all. :)
70 Infection
Sheppard tightened the laces on his boots and glanced around the locker room, gauging the readiness of his men. Across the bench, he watched Ronon's knife flash smoothly as it spun in his hand, easy and calm. Not agitated, not nervous, not angry, and most importantly, not so cocky or proud that he'd be likely to buck orders up on the hive.
It wasn't an omen, or anything like that. Hanging expectations on the spin of a knife was ridiculous. But Lorne's eyes followed Sheppard's to the knife. "Looks like we’re good," he agreed, before stepping away to zip up his vest.
Sheppard clapped his hands once to get their attention, which he already had, and gave the order. They were ready to go.
---
I don't have time for this shit.
"Colonel Sheppard, all due respect, we have some very valid concerns about your head injury." Ryerson waved his arms in a vain attempt to get Sheppard back into his bed. "You blacked out."
"And I'm back now, aren't I? I'm fine. Give me my damned radio. I need to check on my people."
"Your team is fine. They're almost ready to be released."
"Good." Sheppard finished buttoning his shirt. "But they're not the only people I have to worry about, okay? We lost Williams and Linden. I need to talk to Lorne and Ramirez. There's work to do. Now."
"Lorne and Ramirez didn't hit their heads. They can handle it. It's important that-"
Sheppard managed to stop his eyes from rolling, and made sure to keep his voice down. "It's important that I see to my men. If you're this worried about a bump on the head, what are you going to do about my second in command? Until I know where Lorne's head is at, I'm not sitting around waiting for you to decide that I'm ready to stand."
"While that's great, but I have to take responsibility for the lives of everyone in this city."
"Don't give me that. You're right, I don't disagree, but that's the worst argument you can give me right now." He ran a hand over his head, fingering the lump under his hair gingerly. "Because right now? Either myself of Lorne has to take responsibility for the losses of two Marines. Williams was on Lorne's team for three years, Doc, and I might have hit my head, but it's the only one in the game right now, and we've still got a wraith in the city. Understand?"
"Yes, Colonel." Ryerson's terse agreement wasn't exactly heartfelt, but it was enough for now.
"Okay then. Tell you what. I'll be back in two hours, and you can, I don't know, shine lights in my eyes again or something. That's always fun."
---
Ronon was still thinking about the hunting trip when he noticed the movement in the mess hall doorway. Parrish and Banks, heading towards the counter, nothing more. Not some wraith drone soldier, and not Sheppard. He wasn't sure who he'd been expecting. When he turned back to his work, Kanaan was trying not to laugh at him.
"You look an awful lot like McKay when you do that," Kanaan observed, examining the ragged edge of the fishing net Ronon was helping him repair. "Watching the door as if expecting your next meal or disaster to step through at any moment."
"Shouldn't I be flailing around a lot more?"
"I suppose. Try it."
"Shut up." Ronon smirked, bringing the needle around to finish another knot. "You're the one hiding out from Teyla."
"She was unimpressed with my concern. I thought it best to let her spend some time with Torren in peace and quiet," he admitted, "and wait for her sense of humor to return."
"Is she doing all right?"
"Apart from falling out of the sky and coming home to a crying child who missed his nap, she is doing quite well. Have you seen the other members of your team?"
"Last I saw, McKay was still in the infirmary, hovering over Keller's twisted ankle."
"I am sure the doctors on duty are relieved someone is there to make sure they do not accidentally amputate." Kanaan finsihed braiding the fibers back together and set about reinforcing the knot.
"Well, you never know."
"And Colonel Sheppard?"
"Probably in his office, taking out his aggression on the paperwork." When he looked up again, Kanaan was nodding at him slightly, before shaking his head and changing gears.
"So how are you doing?"
"Apparently, I'm turning into McKay. How would you feel?"
"Quite unsettled, and also like I was avoiding the question."
Ronon sighed, dropping the netting to his lap. Though he was more laid back, Kanaan could sometimes be more tenacious than Teyla. "Just thinking that today didn't end up the way I thought it would."
"You did not expect to find yourself on a hive ship, fighting the wraith, and facing certain death?"
"Actually, that didn't surprise me." He scowled, trying to think. "But losing two guys did."
"I would imagine so."
"Yeah, but," Ronon shook his head, picking up the needle again. "It didn't use to."
---
Lorne seemed tense, and a little nervous when Sheppard stopped by his quarters for the second time, but looked relieved when John didn't force him to talk, and accepted the bottle of whiskey with a quiet "Thanks."
It wouldn't help, not much, but there wasn't much else John could do right then, besides not noticing Doctor Kusanagi stopping in front of Lorne's quarters as the transporter door closed.
---
When he stepped through the door Ronon was on his bed, arms draped over flannel-clad knees, the knife twirling over his fingers lethargically.
John didn't bother asking if he'd been waiting for him. "Been sitting there long?"
He looked around, trying to get some sense of what Ronon had been up to for the past few hours, but found nothing, and wound up staring at the painting of the Satedan soldiers. It was the brightest thing in the room, and caught his attention as it often did when he was too tired to look elsewhere.
"Not really." Ronon slid his feet over, making room on the bed, and put the knife on the nightstand. "You actually get cleared to leave the infirmary this time?"
"You heard about that, huh?" John wished he didn't feel the eyes in the painting following him as he sat down to take his boots off.
"Overheard Keller talking with him about it when I went to see if she and McKay wanted to grab dinner."
"It was stupid. Went back after I sent Todd through the gate. Got checked out. I'm fine." John shook his head to clear the ghost soldiers out. "Anyhow, how're you doing?"
"Fine. Going out hunting tomorrow with Kanaan and some of the other Athosians. Want to come?"
"Can't. Tomorrow's going to be busy. But, if you're looking for more people, try Ramirez, Lorne, and their guys. They might want some distraction right now."
"Okay." Ronon leaned shifted his knee so it was pressing against John's back. "How about you?"
"I need sleep," he said, but made no move to remove his clothes. The soldiers in the painting were beginning to look blurry; he couldn't see their faces anymore.
"Okay," Ronon repeated, this time to himself, moving around on the bed and bringing his hands up around John to start working on the buttons of his shirt.
John let himself lean back against Ronon's chest, making it easier, making contact that wasn't broken until he stood to remove his BDU's.
"Almost forgot," he crawled back onto the bed, steadying himself with a hand on the side of Ronon's neck, and managed to kiss him once before his balance began to slip.
Ronon eased them both back down against the pillows, and was probably still kissing him when he fell asleep. He reached over to turn the lamp off, and curled back around John, and lay awake until their breaths began to match.
71 Identity