Ficlette - In Celebration of Joe Flanigan's Birthday
All right, tx_tart is making a list of stuff that people have put together for Joe Flanigan's birthday. So I bring you the ficlette I've written in celebration of Joe's four-oh.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOE
Title: It's My BIrthday, Damnit, and I'll Whine if I Want To
Pairing: Vague McShep
Rating: PG [he says BASTARD! OMG]
Summary: John's birthday didn't turn out quite like he'd hoped.
Author's Notes: It's fluff, it really is. There's no plot. It's like, a page and a half long. But there's whining and kicking and shit-eating grins. That's all we need.
Oh, and Unbetaed. Thrown together for this Birthday Party
John’s fingertips were numb. So were the tips of his ears and his nose. He was fairly certain the sky had been free of clouds and the temperature had been comfortably warm when they’d first stepped through the gate, and that there had been nothing mentioned about blizzards or snow or even a drop in temperature.
At least, he thought he was certain. He couldn’t be sure anymore, what with his brain having been frozen into a solid block of ice, and all.
Really, this was not how he had planned on spending his birthday. He had already felt slightly put out that they’d been assigned a mission on his birthday, but this was really the icing on the cake. He couldn’t help but wondered what sort of cherry the fates had in store for him.
He immediately regretted the thought, and wished for some wood to knock on. Unfortunately, the closest thing around bearing any resemblance to wood was Rodney’s head. John ignored the temptation to rap his knuckles on Rodney’s forehead, and instead hunkered down further, pulling the emergency blanket closer around him.
At least they had emergency blankets, John thought. There was something to be said for military protocol. Oh, and they had a cave, too.
John stared over at Ronon and Teyla, who had curled into each other for body heat and wrapped their blankets around each other. They had just been about to go fetch some firewood for the night when the blizzard had blown in.
While the cave they’d taken in shelter in wasn’t cold enough to kill them, it was still pretty cold. Teyla had suggested sleeping cuddled together for the sake of keeping warm. Ronon had jumped at the idea, and had quickly situated himself with Teyla, but John claimed that someone had to stay up to keep watch, and he was happy to do it.
In reality, he was being contrary out of spite. He wasn’t one-hundred percent sure why, but damned if he was going to spend his birthday curled up asleep n a cave, during a blizzard.
Rodney snored lightly beside him and John rolled his eyes. The man lying beside him, rolled up in an emergency blanket and resting his head on his pack, was obviously in his element. Damn Canadians and their cold-conditioning.
In a fit of misguided spite, John none-so-gently nudged at Rodney with his foot. Rodney slurred out a few mumbles, but didn’t wake. John “nudged” harder: still no luck.
“Wake up you cold, Canadian bastard,” John griped, kicking Rodney lightly.
Rodney scrambled awake, wide-eyed and apparently panic-stricken. “What’s wrong?” he cried, jumping up, the emergency blanket falling to the ground around him. After spinning around frantically a few times, arms flailing, he stilled, and turned to stare at John.
John’s grin was of the shit-eating variety, and Rodney scowled.
“Just what did I do to deserve this?” he growled, settling back down to the floor of the cave. He wrapped the blanket back around him and leaned against one of the walls.
John shrugged. “I can’t sleep,” he said.
"So your first instinct is to wake me up? Besides, I thought you were keeping watch?" Rodney pointed out.
John shrugged. "Nothing's going to happen as long as this snow is coming down, and I don't see it letting up anytime soon."
Rodney sighed. “Why can't you sleep?” he asked, resignedly. “You’ve got a blanket. This cave is reasonably efficient at retaining heat; or at least, it’s not getting any colder.”
John blinked at him. “Says you! You’re like a human furnace!” he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Rodney.
“Then huddle next to me and I’ll share my furnace-like warmth with you, the human icicle,” Rodney teased.
John pouted in response. “No.”
Rodney raised an eyebrow. “No?” he asked incredulously. “No? Since when do you turn down me-induced body heat?” He sounded insulted.
John glowered. “Since I had to spend my birthday stuck in a cave in a blizzard on some godforsaken planet, and did I mention blizzard? And cave?” he griped.
Recognition slid over Rodney’s features, and he donned a pitying expression. “Oh, poor Johnny,” Rodney said, in a sing-song voice. “Did you get stiffed on your birthday?”
John didn’t discontinue his glowering, intensifying the look instead. Rodney laughed and shook his head.
“Get over here, you idiot. I’ll even sing you ‘Happy Birthday’,” he promised.
John raised an eyebrow at that. “Sing it first,” he demanded. “Then I’ll join you.”
Rodney stared at him. “You’re the one that’s cold here, John, not me. I don’t have to do anything.”
John thought about this for a few moments, and finally decided that Rodney had a point. With a resigned sigh, John scuffled forward, trying to remain hunched into himself as he made his way over to Rodney. When he got there, he shimmied under Rodney’s blanket as Rodney lifted his arm to allow him access.
They got comfortable, with John snuggled as far into Rodney’s heat as he could get, and Rodney’s arms wrapped around him, holding the blankets in place.
“I want my birthday song, that’d be a good cherry,” John mumbled as Rodney’s warmth started to work its way through John’s body.
Rodney ignored the nonsense about cherries, and hummed a few bars of ‘Happy Birthday’. He stopped when he heard John snore loudly into his armpit. Rodney rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling slightly.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOE
Title: It's My BIrthday, Damnit, and I'll Whine if I Want To
Pairing: Vague McShep
Rating: PG [he says BASTARD! OMG]
Summary: John's birthday didn't turn out quite like he'd hoped.
Author's Notes: It's fluff, it really is. There's no plot. It's like, a page and a half long. But there's whining and kicking and shit-eating grins. That's all we need.
Oh, and Unbetaed. Thrown together for this Birthday Party
John’s fingertips were numb. So were the tips of his ears and his nose. He was fairly certain the sky had been free of clouds and the temperature had been comfortably warm when they’d first stepped through the gate, and that there had been nothing mentioned about blizzards or snow or even a drop in temperature.
At least, he thought he was certain. He couldn’t be sure anymore, what with his brain having been frozen into a solid block of ice, and all.
Really, this was not how he had planned on spending his birthday. He had already felt slightly put out that they’d been assigned a mission on his birthday, but this was really the icing on the cake. He couldn’t help but wondered what sort of cherry the fates had in store for him.
He immediately regretted the thought, and wished for some wood to knock on. Unfortunately, the closest thing around bearing any resemblance to wood was Rodney’s head. John ignored the temptation to rap his knuckles on Rodney’s forehead, and instead hunkered down further, pulling the emergency blanket closer around him.
At least they had emergency blankets, John thought. There was something to be said for military protocol. Oh, and they had a cave, too.
John stared over at Ronon and Teyla, who had curled into each other for body heat and wrapped their blankets around each other. They had just been about to go fetch some firewood for the night when the blizzard had blown in.
While the cave they’d taken in shelter in wasn’t cold enough to kill them, it was still pretty cold. Teyla had suggested sleeping cuddled together for the sake of keeping warm. Ronon had jumped at the idea, and had quickly situated himself with Teyla, but John claimed that someone had to stay up to keep watch, and he was happy to do it.
In reality, he was being contrary out of spite. He wasn’t one-hundred percent sure why, but damned if he was going to spend his birthday curled up asleep n a cave, during a blizzard.
Rodney snored lightly beside him and John rolled his eyes. The man lying beside him, rolled up in an emergency blanket and resting his head on his pack, was obviously in his element. Damn Canadians and their cold-conditioning.
In a fit of misguided spite, John none-so-gently nudged at Rodney with his foot. Rodney slurred out a few mumbles, but didn’t wake. John “nudged” harder: still no luck.
“Wake up you cold, Canadian bastard,” John griped, kicking Rodney lightly.
Rodney scrambled awake, wide-eyed and apparently panic-stricken. “What’s wrong?” he cried, jumping up, the emergency blanket falling to the ground around him. After spinning around frantically a few times, arms flailing, he stilled, and turned to stare at John.
John’s grin was of the shit-eating variety, and Rodney scowled.
“Just what did I do to deserve this?” he growled, settling back down to the floor of the cave. He wrapped the blanket back around him and leaned against one of the walls.
John shrugged. “I can’t sleep,” he said.
"So your first instinct is to wake me up? Besides, I thought you were keeping watch?" Rodney pointed out.
John shrugged. "Nothing's going to happen as long as this snow is coming down, and I don't see it letting up anytime soon."
Rodney sighed. “Why can't you sleep?” he asked, resignedly. “You’ve got a blanket. This cave is reasonably efficient at retaining heat; or at least, it’s not getting any colder.”
John blinked at him. “Says you! You’re like a human furnace!” he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Rodney.
“Then huddle next to me and I’ll share my furnace-like warmth with you, the human icicle,” Rodney teased.
John pouted in response. “No.”
Rodney raised an eyebrow. “No?” he asked incredulously. “No? Since when do you turn down me-induced body heat?” He sounded insulted.
John glowered. “Since I had to spend my birthday stuck in a cave in a blizzard on some godforsaken planet, and did I mention blizzard? And cave?” he griped.
Recognition slid over Rodney’s features, and he donned a pitying expression. “Oh, poor Johnny,” Rodney said, in a sing-song voice. “Did you get stiffed on your birthday?”
John didn’t discontinue his glowering, intensifying the look instead. Rodney laughed and shook his head.
“Get over here, you idiot. I’ll even sing you ‘Happy Birthday’,” he promised.
John raised an eyebrow at that. “Sing it first,” he demanded. “Then I’ll join you.”
Rodney stared at him. “You’re the one that’s cold here, John, not me. I don’t have to do anything.”
John thought about this for a few moments, and finally decided that Rodney had a point. With a resigned sigh, John scuffled forward, trying to remain hunched into himself as he made his way over to Rodney. When he got there, he shimmied under Rodney’s blanket as Rodney lifted his arm to allow him access.
They got comfortable, with John snuggled as far into Rodney’s heat as he could get, and Rodney’s arms wrapped around him, holding the blankets in place.
“I want my birthday song, that’d be a good cherry,” John mumbled as Rodney’s warmth started to work its way through John’s body.
Rodney ignored the nonsense about cherries, and hummed a few bars of ‘Happy Birthday’. He stopped when he heard John snore loudly into his armpit. Rodney rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling slightly.