Lessons from the Playground (John gen) G
Title: Lessons from the playground
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: None
Genre: gen, John backstory, kid!fic
Warnings: None
Word Count: 410
Summary: John’s love of flight was born at the age of four...
Author's Notes: Written for
skieswideopen's stocking. Now nominated for an award at wicked_awards. Thank you to whomever did so! I'm thrilled and flattered.
Lessons from the Playground
John’s love of flight was born at the age of four on the slightly run-down, much loved playground that his nanny favored more for its abundance of cute teenaged boys watching younger siblings than the quality of the equipment.
In retrospect, John suspected that his father knew nothing about the fact that his heir apparent was hanging out on rusty slides and rickety monkey bars instead of the custom made jungle gym he'd had installed on a discreet corner of their property. John loved his flirty nanny more than just a little bit for that.
Every trip to the park started the same way; his nanny took him straight to the merry-go-round. She’d push him around and around, shoving the yellow handles faster every time he asked until she’d lured some teenaged boy in with her maternal ways and bright laugh. Then her potential suitor would attempt to impress her with his manly strength and speed by loading his own little brother or sister on board and spinning them both until the faded colors on the wheel blurred with the motion. And John’s love of speed was born.
When the suitor was worn out or his charge about to puke they would move on to the seesaws. The seesaws were okay, the stomach drop of the freefall, the brief moment at the top of the arc when his whole body jumped off the seat, the wind ruffling his hair into artful disarray. But the real thrill, the goal that kept John cooperative and content in his role of lure, was the swings.
The swing was possibly the greatest invention ever to John's four year old mind. It had speed, it had freefall, it had the views. With a little help from his nanny or her catch of the day, he could get high above the world. He could get away from his vague concerns about the baby Mommy had growing in her belly or the hole he'd gotten in his brand new Sunday shirt. It was just him and the wind rushing past his face. The thrill of flying into the clouds and the scary surprise of rushing back to earth.
John would spend the next thirty plus years chasing that feeling of pure, uncomplicated joy. Then one extraordinary day he stepped through an ancient circle covered in ruins, and discovered a city the glowed and hummed to life at his touch. He'd found a whole new playground to love.
***
The complete list of my Stargate Atlantis fiction can be found here.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: None
Genre: gen, John backstory, kid!fic
Warnings: None
Word Count: 410
Summary: John’s love of flight was born at the age of four...
Author's Notes: Written for
skieswideopen's stocking. Now nominated for an award at wicked_awards. Thank you to whomever did so! I'm thrilled and flattered.
Lessons from the Playground
John’s love of flight was born at the age of four on the slightly run-down, much loved playground that his nanny favored more for its abundance of cute teenaged boys watching younger siblings than the quality of the equipment.
In retrospect, John suspected that his father knew nothing about the fact that his heir apparent was hanging out on rusty slides and rickety monkey bars instead of the custom made jungle gym he'd had installed on a discreet corner of their property. John loved his flirty nanny more than just a little bit for that.
Every trip to the park started the same way; his nanny took him straight to the merry-go-round. She’d push him around and around, shoving the yellow handles faster every time he asked until she’d lured some teenaged boy in with her maternal ways and bright laugh. Then her potential suitor would attempt to impress her with his manly strength and speed by loading his own little brother or sister on board and spinning them both until the faded colors on the wheel blurred with the motion. And John’s love of speed was born.
When the suitor was worn out or his charge about to puke they would move on to the seesaws. The seesaws were okay, the stomach drop of the freefall, the brief moment at the top of the arc when his whole body jumped off the seat, the wind ruffling his hair into artful disarray. But the real thrill, the goal that kept John cooperative and content in his role of lure, was the swings.
The swing was possibly the greatest invention ever to John's four year old mind. It had speed, it had freefall, it had the views. With a little help from his nanny or her catch of the day, he could get high above the world. He could get away from his vague concerns about the baby Mommy had growing in her belly or the hole he'd gotten in his brand new Sunday shirt. It was just him and the wind rushing past his face. The thrill of flying into the clouds and the scary surprise of rushing back to earth.
John would spend the next thirty plus years chasing that feeling of pure, uncomplicated joy. Then one extraordinary day he stepped through an ancient circle covered in ruins, and discovered a city the glowed and hummed to life at his touch. He'd found a whole new playground to love.
***
The complete list of my Stargate Atlantis fiction can be found here.