Fic: Baker's Dozen - Drabble Collection (SGA and Who; Max rating = R)
Title: Baker's Dozen
Author:
wojelah
Rating: R, max
Fandom: Mostly SGA, with a little Who thrown in. Ronon, Ronon/Keller, McKay/Sheppard, McKay/Sheppard/Weir, Sheppard/Weir/Sumner, Ronon/Teyla if you squint, Tenth Doctor
Summary: Twelve drabbles from generously donated prompts, plus one drabble in response to a drabble from
smittywing
Getting Wet, for
colonel_taisa , who asked for "Ronon and surfing because I totally think he should surf."
Ronon understands why Sheppard likes surfing - the roar of the ocean, the slice of the board through water, dependent purely on skill and willpower. Now, Ronon flops onto the sand, content, muscles limp with fatigue and skin scratchy with sand.
The first time out, though, the wave thrumming behind him, it was too much like running. Terror froze him to the board, tumbled him into the water. Sheppard looked at him, saying nothing, louder than most men talked. They went back out.
Now, Ronon likes surfing because it reminds him he's staying put, and all failure means is getting wet.
Down and Dirty, for
ubiquitous_girl , who asked for "Elizabeth, mudwrestling." Pick your own male perspective/ :D
He'd never underestimated Weir. Even so, the first time things went haywire with her along, it was a shock to see her down in the mud, wrestling with weird-ass bat-things that had swooped down out of nowhere. Strange, to see her delicate frame turn lithe and wiry, her face contorted with effort, her eyes sparking green. Stranger still to see her scramble up after his carefully placed shot, shoving her hair back, a smear of mud painting her cheek. Strangest yet, that he'd see her across the next day. calm and composed, and flash on that image, and want.
Better Than Chocolate, for
_wwsd_ , who asked for "Rodney McKay and chocolate."
There are three main ways to keep Rodney McKay operating calmly. It's common knowledge in his department; they bludgeon it into the neophytes immediately upon arrival. First, keep the coffee hot, plentiful, and caffeinated. Second, wait until noon to bring up non-critical questions; even then, check with Zelenka first to make sure one's concept of critical matches McKay Standard Usage. Third, do not touch the emergency stash of chocolate unless things are dire. If there's any question, then it's not an emergency.
John knows a fourth method. Looking at Rodney, dazed and pliant beneath him, John's not inclined to share.
Lassie Has Some Learnin' To Do, for
starrylizard , who asked for "The Doctor (tenth please) hanging out with a "real" canine companion. (He'd so treat it just like a human companion). :)"
He goes to Barcelona, after, to see a dog about a girl. The thing is, he really doesn't want to talk about it, about Rose, and the noseless dogs of Barcelona are old friends.
Clinging to a cliff, an pair of ears barely visible up above, he realizes maybe he should've thought about the present excursion more carefully.
"Look," he shouts, "could you get help? Opposable thumbs are a plus, not that I'm maligning quadrupeds..."
Doctor, comes the thoughtprint, crystal-clear, as a rope tumbles down, I want to meet this Lassie, so I can kick her ass."
Everybody Wins, for
omglawdork , who asked for "Rodney on his favorite sport."
They argue sports constantly on Atlantis; with so many nationalities, it's hardly surprising. He's argued hockey v. football so many times that he can practically have the conversation in his sleep. And yet, hockey isn't his favorite sport.
Rodney's favorite game - and he'd laugh at anyone who'd say it wasn't athletic enough for a sport, because John Sheppard is a wiry, wily bastard - his favorite pastime is taking John Sheppard apart, touch by touch, until Sheppard's eyes are open wide and they're both shuddering hard enough to fall to pieces. It's a pretty good sport, Rodney figures: everybody wins.
Passing The Bar, for
smittywing , who asked for "SGA, Ronon, changes in personnel."
Ronon's reserving judgement, mostly. He's still dubious about Carter, about the people she brought along. He knows it goes both ways.
He'd felt that way about Keller, until she started losing her memory. He'd learned the hard way that you see who you really are only when you start losing yourself. Keller'd been scared, yeah, but calm, and determined, and damn smart. He'd found her, tiny and crumpled and unconscious. He'd stuck around until she'd woken up, grabbing her hand when she started to panic. He'd helped her set up triage.
He's reserving judgement, but not on her. Not anymore.
Practice Makes Perfect, for the exceedingly patient
trobadora , who asked for "McShep, something sleepy and comfortable."
Rodney's never been good at gratitude. Mostly he's convinced the world's out to get him; when things go right, it's just desserts, not serendipity. For the last month, there's been a moment every day, when the light paints them gold and Rodney's just shy of waking, that he looks at John's face mashed into the pillow next to his, and realizes that this is his, for keeps, for real, and the joy of it takes his breath and weighs him down, John's hip warm under his hand. He's not good at gratitude, but once a day, he's happy to practice.
Denouement, for
irony_rocks , who asked for "SGA, Rodney/John/Elizabeth. Water." Post-Grace Under Pressure
Two days post-rescue-by-pseudo-cetacean, Carson kicks Rodney out. He wants sleep, but can't convince himself unconsciousness is safe. He heads for the balcony, for some air, and Elizabeth's there, hands white-knuckled around the railing. When one of them wraps around his own, he realizes she's shaking with relief - and over him. Then Sheppard walks out, face pale, only to back away when he sees them. For once his expression's almost naked; so much so that Rodney reaches out without thinking, but so does Elizabeth, and the three of them just hold on to each other, looking out at the sea.
Nostalgia, for
kimannebb , who asked for "SGA, John misses the way he used to feel about science fiction movies/books/shows etc."
Sometimes John wishes he could go back to when the world stretched wide open. Heinlein, Batman, Mr. Fantastic, James T. Kirk - they all pushed the envelope, saw the impossible. John wanted that. Flying was the closest he could get to the edges of space-time - so John flew.
Now, John lives next-door to infinity, where space-time is more like a guideline and impossible is pretty much normal. He knows, now, that it all has a cost. He can't see the forest for the trees, some days. Those days, he'd almost give it all up, just to go back. Almost. Not quite.
Reconnaissance, for
daisycm83 , who asked for "Ronon, sunset."
The city's the same, though the planet's different. The city's the same, except the northwest pier's now northeast and the mess catches the rising sun, which bites if you're not a morning person. The change doesn't bother Ronon, but he scopes things out for Teyla, who finds sunset meditation peaceful when it's possible. He agrees because it's something he can do, more than a hand on a shoulder. Ronon's not good at comfort. He's not good at grieving, either; if his face is damp when he steps onto the perfect balcony, there's only the ocean and the sunset to see.
Terminal Boredom, for
aesc , who asked for "John and Rodney fighting over Doctor Who."
It was a goodwill gesture, really. Rodney had broken ribs, a concussion, and terminal boredom. Keller was coping, but John knew that look. So he'd hunted down all available episodes of Doctor Who and headed for the infirmary. He only sort of regretted it.
"Please," Rodney scoffed. "You just like Ten's sneakers." John tuned out Douglas-Adams-eats-Russell-T.-Davies-for-lunch, round infinity-minus-one, scoffing when appropriate, more focused on Four battling Sontarans, until it dawned that Rodney was remarkably quiet. Was, actually, asleep against John's shoulder, drooling through his shirt-sleeve. Regret, he realized, was too strong a word. Gratitude might be closer to the mark.
Arachnida Cadillaca, for
toft_froggy , who asked for "John, Rodney, spiders and/or towels."
It started with Rodney over the headset. "Sheppard, gym showers, now."
"McKay, what the -"
"Now, Sheppard. Explanations later." McKay sounded... strained. John shrugged, and went.
The place was empty: just a towel on the floor and a weird ticking coming from the showers. "McKay?"
"Sheppard, watch-" and John stopped listening, because a child-sized spider rounded the corner and headed straight for him.
A clip later, it was dead-but-twitching, Carter wanted an explanation for the gunfire, biologists were en route, and McKay was still MIA.
"Rodney?"
"Colonel. Before those peons come barreling in?"
"Yeah?"
"Pass the damn towel."
And the bonus round: untitled Real World tag, set in an AU
smittywing 's AU where Sumner didn't die.
smittywing kicked it off, with:
"That was stupid, Sheppard," Sumner yelled as soon as they were clear of Elizabeth's isolation tent. Carson was busy shuttling Sheppard into a plastic case of his own, but Sumner kept a half step behind, careful not to get in the way, careful not to touch him.
"She needs to keep fighting," Sheppard snapped as Carson zipped him in. "She needs to know we're here for her!"
"She knows!" Sumner shot back. "Now stop taking stupid risks! With your life and with hers!"
Sheppard's eyes narrowed as he fired back, "You're just afraid I love her more than you do."
And then I answered:
Mack hauled in a breath, feeling sucker-punched. His hands fisted. "You young fuck. I'm afraid I'm going to lose both of you." Sheppard's eyebrows damn near hit his hairline, about the same time Mack's brain caught up. "Colonel. You will stay put until Carson clears you of any and all contamination. That is anorder. Do you understand?"
Sheppard nodded, and Mack headed for the door, his pace just slow enough that he couldn't be accused of fleeing. If he spent the next several hours watching the infirmary feed over his laptop, that wasn't anyone's business but his own.
Watch this space - this one's growing a life of its own....
Author:
wojelah
Rating: R, max
Fandom: Mostly SGA, with a little Who thrown in. Ronon, Ronon/Keller, McKay/Sheppard, McKay/Sheppard/Weir, Sheppard/Weir/Sumner, Ronon/Teyla if you squint, Tenth Doctor
Summary: Twelve drabbles from generously donated prompts, plus one drabble in response to a drabble from
smittywing
Getting Wet, for
colonel_taisa , who asked for "Ronon and surfing because I totally think he should surf."
Ronon understands why Sheppard likes surfing - the roar of the ocean, the slice of the board through water, dependent purely on skill and willpower. Now, Ronon flops onto the sand, content, muscles limp with fatigue and skin scratchy with sand.
The first time out, though, the wave thrumming behind him, it was too much like running. Terror froze him to the board, tumbled him into the water. Sheppard looked at him, saying nothing, louder than most men talked. They went back out.
Now, Ronon likes surfing because it reminds him he's staying put, and all failure means is getting wet.
Down and Dirty, for
ubiquitous_girl , who asked for "Elizabeth, mudwrestling." Pick your own male perspective/ :D
He'd never underestimated Weir. Even so, the first time things went haywire with her along, it was a shock to see her down in the mud, wrestling with weird-ass bat-things that had swooped down out of nowhere. Strange, to see her delicate frame turn lithe and wiry, her face contorted with effort, her eyes sparking green. Stranger still to see her scramble up after his carefully placed shot, shoving her hair back, a smear of mud painting her cheek. Strangest yet, that he'd see her across the next day. calm and composed, and flash on that image, and want.
Better Than Chocolate, for
_wwsd_ , who asked for "Rodney McKay and chocolate."
There are three main ways to keep Rodney McKay operating calmly. It's common knowledge in his department; they bludgeon it into the neophytes immediately upon arrival. First, keep the coffee hot, plentiful, and caffeinated. Second, wait until noon to bring up non-critical questions; even then, check with Zelenka first to make sure one's concept of critical matches McKay Standard Usage. Third, do not touch the emergency stash of chocolate unless things are dire. If there's any question, then it's not an emergency.
John knows a fourth method. Looking at Rodney, dazed and pliant beneath him, John's not inclined to share.
Lassie Has Some Learnin' To Do, for
starrylizard , who asked for "The Doctor (tenth please) hanging out with a "real" canine companion. (He'd so treat it just like a human companion). :)"
He goes to Barcelona, after, to see a dog about a girl. The thing is, he really doesn't want to talk about it, about Rose, and the noseless dogs of Barcelona are old friends.
Clinging to a cliff, an pair of ears barely visible up above, he realizes maybe he should've thought about the present excursion more carefully.
"Look," he shouts, "could you get help? Opposable thumbs are a plus, not that I'm maligning quadrupeds..."
Doctor, comes the thoughtprint, crystal-clear, as a rope tumbles down, I want to meet this Lassie, so I can kick her ass."
Everybody Wins, for
omglawdork , who asked for "Rodney on his favorite sport."
They argue sports constantly on Atlantis; with so many nationalities, it's hardly surprising. He's argued hockey v. football so many times that he can practically have the conversation in his sleep. And yet, hockey isn't his favorite sport.
Rodney's favorite game - and he'd laugh at anyone who'd say it wasn't athletic enough for a sport, because John Sheppard is a wiry, wily bastard - his favorite pastime is taking John Sheppard apart, touch by touch, until Sheppard's eyes are open wide and they're both shuddering hard enough to fall to pieces. It's a pretty good sport, Rodney figures: everybody wins.
Passing The Bar, for
smittywing , who asked for "SGA, Ronon, changes in personnel."
Ronon's reserving judgement, mostly. He's still dubious about Carter, about the people she brought along. He knows it goes both ways.
He'd felt that way about Keller, until she started losing her memory. He'd learned the hard way that you see who you really are only when you start losing yourself. Keller'd been scared, yeah, but calm, and determined, and damn smart. He'd found her, tiny and crumpled and unconscious. He'd stuck around until she'd woken up, grabbing her hand when she started to panic. He'd helped her set up triage.
He's reserving judgement, but not on her. Not anymore.
Practice Makes Perfect, for the exceedingly patient
trobadora , who asked for "McShep, something sleepy and comfortable."
Rodney's never been good at gratitude. Mostly he's convinced the world's out to get him; when things go right, it's just desserts, not serendipity. For the last month, there's been a moment every day, when the light paints them gold and Rodney's just shy of waking, that he looks at John's face mashed into the pillow next to his, and realizes that this is his, for keeps, for real, and the joy of it takes his breath and weighs him down, John's hip warm under his hand. He's not good at gratitude, but once a day, he's happy to practice.
Denouement, for
irony_rocks , who asked for "SGA, Rodney/John/Elizabeth. Water." Post-Grace Under Pressure
Two days post-rescue-by-pseudo-cetacean, Carson kicks Rodney out. He wants sleep, but can't convince himself unconsciousness is safe. He heads for the balcony, for some air, and Elizabeth's there, hands white-knuckled around the railing. When one of them wraps around his own, he realizes she's shaking with relief - and over him. Then Sheppard walks out, face pale, only to back away when he sees them. For once his expression's almost naked; so much so that Rodney reaches out without thinking, but so does Elizabeth, and the three of them just hold on to each other, looking out at the sea.
Nostalgia, for
kimannebb , who asked for "SGA, John misses the way he used to feel about science fiction movies/books/shows etc."
Sometimes John wishes he could go back to when the world stretched wide open. Heinlein, Batman, Mr. Fantastic, James T. Kirk - they all pushed the envelope, saw the impossible. John wanted that. Flying was the closest he could get to the edges of space-time - so John flew.
Now, John lives next-door to infinity, where space-time is more like a guideline and impossible is pretty much normal. He knows, now, that it all has a cost. He can't see the forest for the trees, some days. Those days, he'd almost give it all up, just to go back. Almost. Not quite.
Reconnaissance, for
daisycm83 , who asked for "Ronon, sunset."
The city's the same, though the planet's different. The city's the same, except the northwest pier's now northeast and the mess catches the rising sun, which bites if you're not a morning person. The change doesn't bother Ronon, but he scopes things out for Teyla, who finds sunset meditation peaceful when it's possible. He agrees because it's something he can do, more than a hand on a shoulder. Ronon's not good at comfort. He's not good at grieving, either; if his face is damp when he steps onto the perfect balcony, there's only the ocean and the sunset to see.
Terminal Boredom, for
aesc , who asked for "John and Rodney fighting over Doctor Who."
It was a goodwill gesture, really. Rodney had broken ribs, a concussion, and terminal boredom. Keller was coping, but John knew that look. So he'd hunted down all available episodes of Doctor Who and headed for the infirmary. He only sort of regretted it.
"Please," Rodney scoffed. "You just like Ten's sneakers." John tuned out Douglas-Adams-eats-Russell-T.-Davies-for-lunch, round infinity-minus-one, scoffing when appropriate, more focused on Four battling Sontarans, until it dawned that Rodney was remarkably quiet. Was, actually, asleep against John's shoulder, drooling through his shirt-sleeve. Regret, he realized, was too strong a word. Gratitude might be closer to the mark.
Arachnida Cadillaca, for
toft_froggy , who asked for "John, Rodney, spiders and/or towels."
It started with Rodney over the headset. "Sheppard, gym showers, now."
"McKay, what the -"
"Now, Sheppard. Explanations later." McKay sounded... strained. John shrugged, and went.
The place was empty: just a towel on the floor and a weird ticking coming from the showers. "McKay?"
"Sheppard, watch-" and John stopped listening, because a child-sized spider rounded the corner and headed straight for him.
A clip later, it was dead-but-twitching, Carter wanted an explanation for the gunfire, biologists were en route, and McKay was still MIA.
"Rodney?"
"Colonel. Before those peons come barreling in?"
"Yeah?"
"Pass the damn towel."
And the bonus round: untitled Real World tag, set in an AU
smittywing 's AU where Sumner didn't die.
smittywing kicked it off, with:
"That was stupid, Sheppard," Sumner yelled as soon as they were clear of Elizabeth's isolation tent. Carson was busy shuttling Sheppard into a plastic case of his own, but Sumner kept a half step behind, careful not to get in the way, careful not to touch him.
"She needs to keep fighting," Sheppard snapped as Carson zipped him in. "She needs to know we're here for her!"
"She knows!" Sumner shot back. "Now stop taking stupid risks! With your life and with hers!"
Sheppard's eyes narrowed as he fired back, "You're just afraid I love her more than you do."
And then I answered:
Mack hauled in a breath, feeling sucker-punched. His hands fisted. "You young fuck. I'm afraid I'm going to lose both of you." Sheppard's eyebrows damn near hit his hairline, about the same time Mack's brain caught up. "Colonel. You will stay put until Carson clears you of any and all contamination. That is anorder. Do you understand?"
Sheppard nodded, and Mack headed for the door, his pace just slow enough that he couldn't be accused of fleeing. If he spent the next several hours watching the infirmary feed over his laptop, that wasn't anyone's business but his own.
Watch this space - this one's growing a life of its own....