FIC: Kavanaugh, the Soft-Hearted Misogynist
LJ-cut for space...
Ok, I am very hesitantly posting this. I was cleaning out my laptop when I found this old snippet of fic I wrote way back when…. Actually, I can’t really recall when. It must have been around the founding of the Atlantis Anti-Jerk Society ML, back when people like Cynical and Ellex and myself decided that we liked the “villains” and tried to find some good in them. This fic was born then, an attempt to have my favorite SGA jerk act like a human being.
Well….
It’s didn’t quite turn out that way. And, for some reason, it’s been languishing on my hard drive for MONTHS. (The poor quality was probably a factor.) But now, having lost a dare, I now post it for all the world to see and mock. *runs and hides* Leave comments if you dare but please be kind. I never meant the world to see this…..
Title: Kavanaugh, the Soft-Hearted Misogynist
Author: Lady DarkAngel
Archive: Whoever wants it, just let me know
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: McShep if you *really* squint
Summary: Kavanaugh not really that big of an asshole. ……Okay, he is.
Note: Takes place mid-season 1
Warnings: Our boy Calvin has a nasty, dirty mouth sometimes
Beta'd?: Ummm…. no.
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis. There. I said it. *cries* Why did you have to ruin my fantasy and make me say it?! Are you happy now?!
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”
I’m rudely shoved into the wall. Turning around, I see the frowning face of Lieutenant Ford as he stumbles away. Further back, I see a smirking Major Sheppard and behind him the Athosian woman holding on to McKay’s arm. I push off from the wall just as the Lt. scowls at me. It’s a pathetic attempt at intimidation. I’ve seen better on four year olds.
“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear us coming or something?” The annoyance of radiating off him is tedious. I began to walk down the hall, fully planning on ignoring them as the pitiful timewasters they are when a hand roughly grabs me by the bicep.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to answer a question when it was asked?” The Major’s voice is deceptively pleasant.
“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands yourself? Was that something you missed after the policeman doubtlessly lectured you on assault and battery in your misbegotten youth? Or perhaps you’re under the mistaken impression that you can go about manhandling your betters just because you’ve managed to tame a regrettable excuse for a scientist into doing your bidding and carrying your extra ammo clips?”
“Leave him alone, Major. It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel like associating with human beings. After all, why would he bother dealing with a higher species when he can crawl back to the swamp that spawned him?” McKay’s glare is minimal, clearly not his best work by a long shot. Something’s up.
“Oh please. Seeing the way you came back from the last mission, the swamp you crawled out of receives regular conjugal visits. The sheer amount of mud and ooze you trailed through the gateroom is enough to start your own little breeding pool.” This earns me an ugly glare from Marine Jr. but strangely enough, not from my target. Intrigued, I decide to stay for a few more moments. Something’s not quite right here and my curiosity’s been piqued.
Of course, the Major and company are looking mutinous. They form a semi-circle around the man, as if to protect him from my words. Pathetic, truly. As if he needs defending when it comes to an argument. In fact, if this really was a war of wits, they’d be nothing more then cannon fodder. That’s why they’re the grunts, after all.
“Maybe it would be best if you just continued on your way, Doctor. Some of us actually have things to do that are worth the time and air that's used to accomplish them.” Sheppard thinks he’s clever. “Well, go on. Scoot. It’s not like McKay actually wants to talk to you or anything…...”
“Major!”
“What? It’s true, isn’t it? And we *were* in the middle of planning something. So what if he takes a hike?”
McKay looks unhappy, as he should. For all his whining, he detests being babied and condescended to. The look on his face is annoyance; he’s a big boy and can pick his own friends and enemies, thank you very much. He tries to get out but Sheppard pushes him back, whispering something to him. Whatever it is causes his face to clear and a smile to break out. Must be nice. I stalk away before the blatant envy I’m feeling can show. Maybe I’ll stew in the lab for a while before snapping at some dumb shmuck who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Play to your strengths and give them what they want. At least *someone’s* happy that way…….
“Kavanaugh!”
I turn at the shout. McKay’s still trapped behind his protectors but now they’re all grinning. Goddamn solidarity; nothing quite like an inside joke to make other people feel unwanted. “What do you want?” It comes out harsher then I’d intended but I’m in a bad mood. Sue me.
“Your opinion, actually. Stop by my lab later. Grodin found something rather interesting that relates to the project you’ve been working on. I have a theory I want to run by you if you’ve got time.” He gets a poke in the arm from Ford and a hissed, “Rodney!” from Sheppard. I guess that means there are plans for later this is interrupting. Oh goody. The look’s changed to a variation of oh-shit-no!, a look I’ve become familiar with just before something blows up in the lab.
I feel an evil smirk coming on. Trying to get away from the Smothering Trio, now are we? “My time is precious but I suppose I can find a moment to correct your mistakes. God knows someone has to.” That gets me three death glares and a smirk in return. I don’t care. I sense an ulterior motive here and he’s willing to try to be friendly. Plus it’s a chance to piss off the Major. How can I resist? “Ten o’clock. Be there. And bring what you need; I don’t feel like being your luggage boy today.”
“Hey!” Sheppard steps forward. McKay tries to make a break for it but the others latch onto his arms. Purely for his own protection, of course. “Where do you get off being nasty like that? He doesn’t belong to you. What the hell’s your problem?”
“Do you want the whole list, Major?” McKay’s got SAVE ME written all over his face. Whatever they have planned must well and truly suck for him to beg me of all people for rescue.
He sneers. “Nah, don’t feel like wasting my life. Come on, let’s go. The game’s waiting.” With that, he turns to leave. The other two go to follow, dragging McKay and his pathetic look along with them. Oh no, you don’t. Nobody snubs me like that and gets away with it.
“Better make that eight, McKay. I’m sure with your skill level I’ll be up all night fixing your equations. And if you gave them to the Major to do, well……. If we start now, we *might* get finished *sometime* before the heat death of the universe.” I start to walk out the door and begin to count. On two I hear several loud curses about my parentage, on five there’s a muffled cry of pain and the bang of something colliding with the wall, on twelve a bellow of “McKay, get BACK here!” follows me around the corner and by twenty-two he’s in the transporter right next to me. I have the supreme satisfaction of seeing the doors shut on Sheppard’s enraged face. I should have blown him a raspberry.
“Thanks, Calvin. I owe you.”
“Are you kidding? Football is a fate worse then death, especially if it’s the same game over and over again. Now, is there really a theory or were you just desperate as hell to escape?”
He sighs. “They mean well. It’s just…… I don’t like drinking beer and ‘hanging out.’ They don’t get that. It’s nice that they want to include me so badly but most nights, I just want my laptop, some chocolate, and Yo Yo Ma on my headphones. Alone. Me-time, not Team-time. I get bitchy when I don’t get my me-time.”
“You’re always bitchy. Can I blame it on them, then?” I arch an eyebrow for effect.
“Nice try. If I didn’t know that your collection of mp3’s and fanfiction was bigger then mine, I’d suspect a hidden insult there.” There’s a knowing look in his eye I don’t like. A distraction is called for. On to safer ground, then.
“Since when has it ever been hidden? Face it, McKay. We’re not like them. We just can’t find entertainment in sitting on our asses in front of a screen displaying anything non-geek or science related. It’s not-educational, uninformative and serves no purpose.” He’s not buying it. Time for the big guns. “I don’t know what you see in them, running with a bunch of Neanderthals around like…… like…… like a jock half the time!”
“Uh, harsh. Real harsh and so *very* high-school of you. Well let me tell you……” And he’s off and running! That didn’t take long. The whoosh of the doors drowns him out temporarily. We walk away from the transporter and I have the strangest sense of victory. Rodney McKay wants to spend time with me instead of his team, even if it is work-related/anti-football. Doesn’t care that they don’t want him to. And there’s nothing they can do about it. Take that, you bitches. Solidarity, brotherhood and all that might not be such a bad thing. You might be his companions but I’m his kind. We understand how each other thinks and why we do what we do. That’s why we make good rivals. You just happen to like him more for some damn reason. For him you call it snark, for me you term it rudeness; he gets state an opinion and complain while I whine, bitch and moan unpleasantly. It’s temporary at best and he knows it. People are fickle and we’re always left alone in the end. Nobody really likes an asshole; they just like to torment us. We’re kindred spirits.
He’s just more polite about it, that’s all.
Ok, I am very hesitantly posting this. I was cleaning out my laptop when I found this old snippet of fic I wrote way back when…. Actually, I can’t really recall when. It must have been around the founding of the Atlantis Anti-Jerk Society ML, back when people like Cynical and Ellex and myself decided that we liked the “villains” and tried to find some good in them. This fic was born then, an attempt to have my favorite SGA jerk act like a human being.
Well….
It’s didn’t quite turn out that way. And, for some reason, it’s been languishing on my hard drive for MONTHS. (The poor quality was probably a factor.) But now, having lost a dare, I now post it for all the world to see and mock. *runs and hides* Leave comments if you dare but please be kind. I never meant the world to see this…..
Title: Kavanaugh, the Soft-Hearted Misogynist
Author: Lady DarkAngel
Archive: Whoever wants it, just let me know
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: McShep if you *really* squint
Summary: Kavanaugh not really that big of an asshole. ……Okay, he is.
Note: Takes place mid-season 1
Warnings: Our boy Calvin has a nasty, dirty mouth sometimes
Beta'd?: Ummm…. no.
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis. There. I said it. *cries* Why did you have to ruin my fantasy and make me say it?! Are you happy now?!
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”
I’m rudely shoved into the wall. Turning around, I see the frowning face of Lieutenant Ford as he stumbles away. Further back, I see a smirking Major Sheppard and behind him the Athosian woman holding on to McKay’s arm. I push off from the wall just as the Lt. scowls at me. It’s a pathetic attempt at intimidation. I’ve seen better on four year olds.
“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear us coming or something?” The annoyance of radiating off him is tedious. I began to walk down the hall, fully planning on ignoring them as the pitiful timewasters they are when a hand roughly grabs me by the bicep.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to answer a question when it was asked?” The Major’s voice is deceptively pleasant.
“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands yourself? Was that something you missed after the policeman doubtlessly lectured you on assault and battery in your misbegotten youth? Or perhaps you’re under the mistaken impression that you can go about manhandling your betters just because you’ve managed to tame a regrettable excuse for a scientist into doing your bidding and carrying your extra ammo clips?”
“Leave him alone, Major. It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel like associating with human beings. After all, why would he bother dealing with a higher species when he can crawl back to the swamp that spawned him?” McKay’s glare is minimal, clearly not his best work by a long shot. Something’s up.
“Oh please. Seeing the way you came back from the last mission, the swamp you crawled out of receives regular conjugal visits. The sheer amount of mud and ooze you trailed through the gateroom is enough to start your own little breeding pool.” This earns me an ugly glare from Marine Jr. but strangely enough, not from my target. Intrigued, I decide to stay for a few more moments. Something’s not quite right here and my curiosity’s been piqued.
Of course, the Major and company are looking mutinous. They form a semi-circle around the man, as if to protect him from my words. Pathetic, truly. As if he needs defending when it comes to an argument. In fact, if this really was a war of wits, they’d be nothing more then cannon fodder. That’s why they’re the grunts, after all.
“Maybe it would be best if you just continued on your way, Doctor. Some of us actually have things to do that are worth the time and air that's used to accomplish them.” Sheppard thinks he’s clever. “Well, go on. Scoot. It’s not like McKay actually wants to talk to you or anything…...”
“Major!”
“What? It’s true, isn’t it? And we *were* in the middle of planning something. So what if he takes a hike?”
McKay looks unhappy, as he should. For all his whining, he detests being babied and condescended to. The look on his face is annoyance; he’s a big boy and can pick his own friends and enemies, thank you very much. He tries to get out but Sheppard pushes him back, whispering something to him. Whatever it is causes his face to clear and a smile to break out. Must be nice. I stalk away before the blatant envy I’m feeling can show. Maybe I’ll stew in the lab for a while before snapping at some dumb shmuck who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Play to your strengths and give them what they want. At least *someone’s* happy that way…….
“Kavanaugh!”
I turn at the shout. McKay’s still trapped behind his protectors but now they’re all grinning. Goddamn solidarity; nothing quite like an inside joke to make other people feel unwanted. “What do you want?” It comes out harsher then I’d intended but I’m in a bad mood. Sue me.
“Your opinion, actually. Stop by my lab later. Grodin found something rather interesting that relates to the project you’ve been working on. I have a theory I want to run by you if you’ve got time.” He gets a poke in the arm from Ford and a hissed, “Rodney!” from Sheppard. I guess that means there are plans for later this is interrupting. Oh goody. The look’s changed to a variation of oh-shit-no!, a look I’ve become familiar with just before something blows up in the lab.
I feel an evil smirk coming on. Trying to get away from the Smothering Trio, now are we? “My time is precious but I suppose I can find a moment to correct your mistakes. God knows someone has to.” That gets me three death glares and a smirk in return. I don’t care. I sense an ulterior motive here and he’s willing to try to be friendly. Plus it’s a chance to piss off the Major. How can I resist? “Ten o’clock. Be there. And bring what you need; I don’t feel like being your luggage boy today.”
“Hey!” Sheppard steps forward. McKay tries to make a break for it but the others latch onto his arms. Purely for his own protection, of course. “Where do you get off being nasty like that? He doesn’t belong to you. What the hell’s your problem?”
“Do you want the whole list, Major?” McKay’s got SAVE ME written all over his face. Whatever they have planned must well and truly suck for him to beg me of all people for rescue.
He sneers. “Nah, don’t feel like wasting my life. Come on, let’s go. The game’s waiting.” With that, he turns to leave. The other two go to follow, dragging McKay and his pathetic look along with them. Oh no, you don’t. Nobody snubs me like that and gets away with it.
“Better make that eight, McKay. I’m sure with your skill level I’ll be up all night fixing your equations. And if you gave them to the Major to do, well……. If we start now, we *might* get finished *sometime* before the heat death of the universe.” I start to walk out the door and begin to count. On two I hear several loud curses about my parentage, on five there’s a muffled cry of pain and the bang of something colliding with the wall, on twelve a bellow of “McKay, get BACK here!” follows me around the corner and by twenty-two he’s in the transporter right next to me. I have the supreme satisfaction of seeing the doors shut on Sheppard’s enraged face. I should have blown him a raspberry.
“Thanks, Calvin. I owe you.”
“Are you kidding? Football is a fate worse then death, especially if it’s the same game over and over again. Now, is there really a theory or were you just desperate as hell to escape?”
He sighs. “They mean well. It’s just…… I don’t like drinking beer and ‘hanging out.’ They don’t get that. It’s nice that they want to include me so badly but most nights, I just want my laptop, some chocolate, and Yo Yo Ma on my headphones. Alone. Me-time, not Team-time. I get bitchy when I don’t get my me-time.”
“You’re always bitchy. Can I blame it on them, then?” I arch an eyebrow for effect.
“Nice try. If I didn’t know that your collection of mp3’s and fanfiction was bigger then mine, I’d suspect a hidden insult there.” There’s a knowing look in his eye I don’t like. A distraction is called for. On to safer ground, then.
“Since when has it ever been hidden? Face it, McKay. We’re not like them. We just can’t find entertainment in sitting on our asses in front of a screen displaying anything non-geek or science related. It’s not-educational, uninformative and serves no purpose.” He’s not buying it. Time for the big guns. “I don’t know what you see in them, running with a bunch of Neanderthals around like…… like…… like a jock half the time!”
“Uh, harsh. Real harsh and so *very* high-school of you. Well let me tell you……” And he’s off and running! That didn’t take long. The whoosh of the doors drowns him out temporarily. We walk away from the transporter and I have the strangest sense of victory. Rodney McKay wants to spend time with me instead of his team, even if it is work-related/anti-football. Doesn’t care that they don’t want him to. And there’s nothing they can do about it. Take that, you bitches. Solidarity, brotherhood and all that might not be such a bad thing. You might be his companions but I’m his kind. We understand how each other thinks and why we do what we do. That’s why we make good rivals. You just happen to like him more for some damn reason. For him you call it snark, for me you term it rudeness; he gets state an opinion and complain while I whine, bitch and moan unpleasantly. It’s temporary at best and he knows it. People are fickle and we’re always left alone in the end. Nobody really likes an asshole; they just like to torment us. We’re kindred spirits.
He’s just more polite about it, that’s all.