"Open Road"
Title: Open Road
Author: kellifer_fic
Rating: G
Category: SGA (McKay/Sheppard, Team)
Word Count: 1,156
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
It took a while.
Rodney watches the last piece of technology that could link him to the outside world fly out the car window with obvious dismay before turning wide eyes back on John. “I can’t believe you did that!” he splutters.
“You can or you wouldn’t have hidden it so well,” John disagrees and tips the rear vision mirror enough that he can see Teyla and Ronon in the back seat, curled together like tired puppies. He supposes it’s been a long day and neither of them had seen the ocean before.
Not on Earth.
John figures he could wait until they stopped for the night and Ronon was awake to ask him just want he was thinking showing Rodney how to hide things on his body so well. It must have been Ronon because Lord knows, when they were going through the metal detectors and Ronon kept going off even a full cavity search hadn’t revealed just where he’d kept that last blade.
It didn’t help that cell phones were made so damn small these days.
000
“No way.”
Rodney was dragging his heels, but now he actually puts hands on the doorframe to avoid being tugged through like a cartoon character.
“Have I asked you for anything else?” Ronon says and his tone is so mild, voice so neutral that John has to look at him for a full minute and see the small twitch just under his jaw line to see just how upset Rodney’s refusal is making him.
“There’s needles… and ink….and under the skin,” Rodney protests, but he’s flagging, John can tell. Rodney isn’t as oblivious to the subtle nuance that is other people as he tries to play off because he wants to feel justified ignoring people’s needs when he wants to. It’s just now, when there really isn’t anything to lose that he allows himself to see what his actions are causing.
“I want it tiny,” he finally relents and then holds up an imperious finger. “And where no one will actually see it.”
“Way you dress, we just need to keep it below collar and cuffs,” Ronon huffs but when he looks at John and quirks an eyebrow, John can feel a blush heat his cheeks.
Right before they leave the tattoo parlour, Rodney claiming he is wounded for life and Ronon gently glowing, they have to all talk Teyla out of adding a second tattoo to the group one they’d all decided on.
John doesn’t think his sanity would survive if he got his ass handed to him by a woman with a unicorn on her bicep.
000
They have to check in every three days and John can almost understand. He knows if he hadn’t served next to these people for two years then he might have a little trouble trusting as well, considering Earth’s track record with aliens.
John is on a payphone just outside a carnival and Ronon is tugging on his shirt like an excited kid. The lights and sounds had had him enchanted before they’d even gotten out of the car. “You quit yanking on me and I’ll buy you a cotton candy,” John promises and Ronon drops his hand, even though John is pretty sure Ronon doesn’t actually know what cotton candy is.
John goes through the usual checks, waiting to be put through to Stargate command and is surprised when he actually gets transferred through to General O’Neill.
“How’s the road trip?” the older man asks and John feels himself grinning even though he tries to keep it out of his voice.
“Fine, Sir. We just needed a good break and Ronon and Teyla risk their lives for us everyday. I just wanted them to get a small sense of what they might be saving.”
“No need to justify it to me,” O’Neill says and there is a good-natured lilt to his voice. “I just wish I’d gotten my kids out of the Mountain more often. Always seemed to be a crisis though.”
“Yes Sir,” John says, looking over at Teyla, Rodney and Ronon and feeling something break free in his chest. “I understand the feeling.”
There is an internet café of all things inside the carnival grounds and John is wondering what kind of acrobatics he’s going to have to perform to distract Rodney but he finds he doesn’t need to. Rodney is letting Ronon manhandle him towards the bumper cars with only the vaguest of protests which is high enthusiasm in the Rodney lexicon.
“He seems more relaxed,” Teyla observes, coming to stand by John and hooking a warm hand in his elbow. “Less… purple.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” John agrees.
000
Strangely, Ronon loves themed motels so that is how they find themselves in a room with stuffed animal heads on the walls and cowboy hat lamps. The wallpapers are covered with little cowboys doing little cowboy things. Lassoing a steer here, riding a bronco there.
They have adjoining rooms, Ronon and Teyla taking one and John and Rodney in the other with a communal bathroom in the middle that can be entered from either room. John finds Rodney sitting on the edge of the tub, a big claw-footed affair that seems out of place in such a cheap side-of-the-road establishment.
“The wallpaper was giving me the creeps,” Rodney says and John laughs.
“You scared of cowboys?”
“I had a strange childhood,” Rodney says but doesn’t try to explain further.
“With the lights out you can’t see the wallpaper,” John offers, reaching behind himself and flicking off the light through the doorway.
“I’m going to trip over something,” Rodney says, standing.
“I’ll guide you,” John promises, taking Rodney’s hands in his own.
000
John knows he’s taking his life in his hands by poking Ronon in the stomach, but he can’t help it when the guy goes for an eighth hot dog.
“I know running burned a lot of calories but you’re more sedentary now. Might want to start watching what you eat.” John doesn’t want to admit it but he’s actually jealous. He’s always naturally run to lean but in the last few years having an extra beer or chocolate of any kind has become… noticeable.
Rodney rolls his eyes theatrically from the other side of the table, finishing off his fourth and Teyla herself is on her third and eyeing the remaining hot dog on Rodney’s plate. The kid behind the counter at the road side cart had looked like all his Christmases had come when they’d arrived.
“It’s a great honour to grow large on Sateda,” Ronon says blithely, thumbing a bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth.
“Is that true?” John asks when Ronon has moved back to the cart, the kid already digging out another couple of rolls.
“Sounds like crap to me,” Teyla says with a shrug.
John and Rodney are still doubled over laughing when Ronon returns.
Author: kellifer_fic
Rating: G
Category: SGA (McKay/Sheppard, Team)
Word Count: 1,156
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
It took a while.
Rodney watches the last piece of technology that could link him to the outside world fly out the car window with obvious dismay before turning wide eyes back on John. “I can’t believe you did that!” he splutters.
“You can or you wouldn’t have hidden it so well,” John disagrees and tips the rear vision mirror enough that he can see Teyla and Ronon in the back seat, curled together like tired puppies. He supposes it’s been a long day and neither of them had seen the ocean before.
Not on Earth.
John figures he could wait until they stopped for the night and Ronon was awake to ask him just want he was thinking showing Rodney how to hide things on his body so well. It must have been Ronon because Lord knows, when they were going through the metal detectors and Ronon kept going off even a full cavity search hadn’t revealed just where he’d kept that last blade.
It didn’t help that cell phones were made so damn small these days.
000
“No way.”
Rodney was dragging his heels, but now he actually puts hands on the doorframe to avoid being tugged through like a cartoon character.
“Have I asked you for anything else?” Ronon says and his tone is so mild, voice so neutral that John has to look at him for a full minute and see the small twitch just under his jaw line to see just how upset Rodney’s refusal is making him.
“There’s needles… and ink….and under the skin,” Rodney protests, but he’s flagging, John can tell. Rodney isn’t as oblivious to the subtle nuance that is other people as he tries to play off because he wants to feel justified ignoring people’s needs when he wants to. It’s just now, when there really isn’t anything to lose that he allows himself to see what his actions are causing.
“I want it tiny,” he finally relents and then holds up an imperious finger. “And where no one will actually see it.”
“Way you dress, we just need to keep it below collar and cuffs,” Ronon huffs but when he looks at John and quirks an eyebrow, John can feel a blush heat his cheeks.
Right before they leave the tattoo parlour, Rodney claiming he is wounded for life and Ronon gently glowing, they have to all talk Teyla out of adding a second tattoo to the group one they’d all decided on.
John doesn’t think his sanity would survive if he got his ass handed to him by a woman with a unicorn on her bicep.
000
They have to check in every three days and John can almost understand. He knows if he hadn’t served next to these people for two years then he might have a little trouble trusting as well, considering Earth’s track record with aliens.
John is on a payphone just outside a carnival and Ronon is tugging on his shirt like an excited kid. The lights and sounds had had him enchanted before they’d even gotten out of the car. “You quit yanking on me and I’ll buy you a cotton candy,” John promises and Ronon drops his hand, even though John is pretty sure Ronon doesn’t actually know what cotton candy is.
John goes through the usual checks, waiting to be put through to Stargate command and is surprised when he actually gets transferred through to General O’Neill.
“How’s the road trip?” the older man asks and John feels himself grinning even though he tries to keep it out of his voice.
“Fine, Sir. We just needed a good break and Ronon and Teyla risk their lives for us everyday. I just wanted them to get a small sense of what they might be saving.”
“No need to justify it to me,” O’Neill says and there is a good-natured lilt to his voice. “I just wish I’d gotten my kids out of the Mountain more often. Always seemed to be a crisis though.”
“Yes Sir,” John says, looking over at Teyla, Rodney and Ronon and feeling something break free in his chest. “I understand the feeling.”
There is an internet café of all things inside the carnival grounds and John is wondering what kind of acrobatics he’s going to have to perform to distract Rodney but he finds he doesn’t need to. Rodney is letting Ronon manhandle him towards the bumper cars with only the vaguest of protests which is high enthusiasm in the Rodney lexicon.
“He seems more relaxed,” Teyla observes, coming to stand by John and hooking a warm hand in his elbow. “Less… purple.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” John agrees.
000
Strangely, Ronon loves themed motels so that is how they find themselves in a room with stuffed animal heads on the walls and cowboy hat lamps. The wallpapers are covered with little cowboys doing little cowboy things. Lassoing a steer here, riding a bronco there.
They have adjoining rooms, Ronon and Teyla taking one and John and Rodney in the other with a communal bathroom in the middle that can be entered from either room. John finds Rodney sitting on the edge of the tub, a big claw-footed affair that seems out of place in such a cheap side-of-the-road establishment.
“The wallpaper was giving me the creeps,” Rodney says and John laughs.
“You scared of cowboys?”
“I had a strange childhood,” Rodney says but doesn’t try to explain further.
“With the lights out you can’t see the wallpaper,” John offers, reaching behind himself and flicking off the light through the doorway.
“I’m going to trip over something,” Rodney says, standing.
“I’ll guide you,” John promises, taking Rodney’s hands in his own.
000
John knows he’s taking his life in his hands by poking Ronon in the stomach, but he can’t help it when the guy goes for an eighth hot dog.
“I know running burned a lot of calories but you’re more sedentary now. Might want to start watching what you eat.” John doesn’t want to admit it but he’s actually jealous. He’s always naturally run to lean but in the last few years having an extra beer or chocolate of any kind has become… noticeable.
Rodney rolls his eyes theatrically from the other side of the table, finishing off his fourth and Teyla herself is on her third and eyeing the remaining hot dog on Rodney’s plate. The kid behind the counter at the road side cart had looked like all his Christmases had come when they’d arrived.
“It’s a great honour to grow large on Sateda,” Ronon says blithely, thumbing a bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth.
“Is that true?” John asks when Ronon has moved back to the cart, the kid already digging out another couple of rolls.
“Sounds like crap to me,” Teyla says with a shrug.
John and Rodney are still doubled over laughing when Ronon returns.