Challenge fic #10 'No Shelter' (PG)
Author: Devera
Title: No Shelter (Challenge #10 - Resignation)
Rating: PG
Words: 550 approx
Summary: That's life in the Pegasus Galaxy for you.
Note: Deliberately no mention of the actual event/issue, so could be set anywhere in S2/S3... I was kind of (unsuccessfully) playing with mood and metaphor. Hope this isn't too late!
Rodney's anger, in contrast to what most people believe, is like an approaching storm. At first, it's nothing but a drop in pressure - Rodney acting like nothing is wrong almost gives John a nosebleed; it certainly gives him a headache. John just smiles and keeps his eye on the darkening horizon. Before long, others are noticing too, heading for cover, subdued voices and worried looks going John's way whenever he walks into the lab, or a meeting, but there's nothing to do but dig in and wait. They probably think he's stupid; they certainly look at him like he's insane, but that's probably a reasonably fair estimate, even if for the wrong reasons.
John's just glad they're somewhere relatively private when the storm front finally hits - okay, he's just glad Rodney's barometric decrease over the last few days has managed to scare everyone, even Zelenka, out of the labs because really, no matter how far away John saw it coming, he really doesn't need an audience now it's here.
"Tell me, Sheppard; how would you like it?" Rodney demands without preamble, and tension rattles in his voice like the lick of lightning.
"I wouldn't," he says, not pretending to misunderstand.
"Then why the hell do you do it?! If you understand, then for God's sake, stop! It's not like you aren't a reasonably intelligent human being; but you insist on continually making these stupid, spur-of-the-moment, ad-hoc, fatalistic decisions without any consultation or -"
The decision in question was all of those things, of course; John won't deny it. It's not that he relies on luck, or inspiration. It's not that he likes to improvise; no soldier does. It's just that he doesn't usually have any choice.
"You know why." Which is about as close as he'll come - as he ever comes - to actually talking about it.
"I can't keep doing this," Rodney declares, but he always says that.
"I can take you off the team, if you want." John doesn't want to, but he'll offer anyway.
"Thanks. Thankyou very much. That's an enormous improvement on actually being there when one of your gung-ho ideas actually manages to kill you. Yes, I'd much rather be working here, in blissful ignorance, just waiting for someone to come in to tell me that you're not coming back, that something went wrong and you're dead on some stupid planet that I've never seen, but hey, you managed to save your people, good for you!"
"That's a no, then?" John asks, just to be a bastard. "You could dump me."
"Like that'll make one iota of difference!"
John smiles a bit. "Sorry," but it's not the decision he's apologising for, and they both know it.
"Fine," Rodney sighs, and abruptly the storm dissipates. Promise of clear skies again, at least for a little while. John can live with that. "Fine. Come here and let me kiss you. Maybe it'll convince you to be less of an idiot next time."
John goes - like rain, wind or snow could keep him away - and Rodney kisses him long and thoroughly, until John is a little stupid with it - stupider.
"I think it's working," he manages, when Rodney finally draws back. "Wanna keep trying?"
Rodney rolls his eyes and almost smiles. "Of course it's not working, but like I have a choice."
"Yeah," John agrees, because he already knows how that feels, and shelter's overrated anyway.
Title: No Shelter (Challenge #10 - Resignation)
Rating: PG
Words: 550 approx
Summary: That's life in the Pegasus Galaxy for you.
Note: Deliberately no mention of the actual event/issue, so could be set anywhere in S2/S3... I was kind of (unsuccessfully) playing with mood and metaphor. Hope this isn't too late!
Rodney's anger, in contrast to what most people believe, is like an approaching storm. At first, it's nothing but a drop in pressure - Rodney acting like nothing is wrong almost gives John a nosebleed; it certainly gives him a headache. John just smiles and keeps his eye on the darkening horizon. Before long, others are noticing too, heading for cover, subdued voices and worried looks going John's way whenever he walks into the lab, or a meeting, but there's nothing to do but dig in and wait. They probably think he's stupid; they certainly look at him like he's insane, but that's probably a reasonably fair estimate, even if for the wrong reasons.
John's just glad they're somewhere relatively private when the storm front finally hits - okay, he's just glad Rodney's barometric decrease over the last few days has managed to scare everyone, even Zelenka, out of the labs because really, no matter how far away John saw it coming, he really doesn't need an audience now it's here.
"Tell me, Sheppard; how would you like it?" Rodney demands without preamble, and tension rattles in his voice like the lick of lightning.
"I wouldn't," he says, not pretending to misunderstand.
"Then why the hell do you do it?! If you understand, then for God's sake, stop! It's not like you aren't a reasonably intelligent human being; but you insist on continually making these stupid, spur-of-the-moment, ad-hoc, fatalistic decisions without any consultation or -"
The decision in question was all of those things, of course; John won't deny it. It's not that he relies on luck, or inspiration. It's not that he likes to improvise; no soldier does. It's just that he doesn't usually have any choice.
"You know why." Which is about as close as he'll come - as he ever comes - to actually talking about it.
"I can't keep doing this," Rodney declares, but he always says that.
"I can take you off the team, if you want." John doesn't want to, but he'll offer anyway.
"Thanks. Thankyou very much. That's an enormous improvement on actually being there when one of your gung-ho ideas actually manages to kill you. Yes, I'd much rather be working here, in blissful ignorance, just waiting for someone to come in to tell me that you're not coming back, that something went wrong and you're dead on some stupid planet that I've never seen, but hey, you managed to save your people, good for you!"
"That's a no, then?" John asks, just to be a bastard. "You could dump me."
"Like that'll make one iota of difference!"
John smiles a bit. "Sorry," but it's not the decision he's apologising for, and they both know it.
"Fine," Rodney sighs, and abruptly the storm dissipates. Promise of clear skies again, at least for a little while. John can live with that. "Fine. Come here and let me kiss you. Maybe it'll convince you to be less of an idiot next time."
John goes - like rain, wind or snow could keep him away - and Rodney kisses him long and thoroughly, until John is a little stupid with it - stupider.
"I think it's working," he manages, when Rodney finally draws back. "Wanna keep trying?"
Rodney rolls his eyes and almost smiles. "Of course it's not working, but like I have a choice."
"Yeah," John agrees, because he already knows how that feels, and shelter's overrated anyway.