Sigh. More fic.
Someday, I vow, I will fucking finish a goddamned story!!!
I also wrote another section of the sadly-long-neglected McShep High School AU. Will post that later.
Also, WTF? *glares at music player*
9.
It may be the growing season on Athos, but Atlantis is cold and dark and damp. Rodney’s heard the whispers of those with a ridiculously morbid turn of mind . . . the ones that mutter in corners and say that the city is in mourning.
Rodney snorts, but he’s careful, on those days, to avoid the Marine patrols.
Sometimes Rodney thinks that the only person who’s truly forgiven him is the city.
Atlantis never turned off his hot water, tripped or kicked him in the hall, added lemon juice to his tea, or short-sheeted his bed -- well, back when he had a bed, and assigned quarters, anyway.
The city has eyes everywhere, eyes and ears that most people don’t know about. She kept his secrets too, kept them from those who didn’t know that Rodney had secrets to keep, and she never felt the guilt of the others who were forced to share that secret.
Atlantis isn’t human. She’s not even intelligent in the way that years of science fiction have secretly prepared Rodney to accept. She is a machine that responds to the thoughts of the gene carriers and the typed commands of anyone with a laptop capable of interfacing with Ancient technology.
This makes Rodney’s life more difficult than he might have anticipated . . . if he’d ever given a second’s thought to things like, oh, say, consequences.
He tells himself that people washed in cold water and slept on floors for thousands of years.
Since nothing much happened to them, he'll survive, too.
*********************
I'm still offering extra points to the person who can name the song from which the title was taken!
I also wrote another section of the sadly-long-neglected McShep High School AU. Will post that later.
Also, WTF? *glares at music player*
9.
It may be the growing season on Athos, but Atlantis is cold and dark and damp. Rodney’s heard the whispers of those with a ridiculously morbid turn of mind . . . the ones that mutter in corners and say that the city is in mourning.
Rodney snorts, but he’s careful, on those days, to avoid the Marine patrols.
Sometimes Rodney thinks that the only person who’s truly forgiven him is the city.
Atlantis never turned off his hot water, tripped or kicked him in the hall, added lemon juice to his tea, or short-sheeted his bed -- well, back when he had a bed, and assigned quarters, anyway.
The city has eyes everywhere, eyes and ears that most people don’t know about. She kept his secrets too, kept them from those who didn’t know that Rodney had secrets to keep, and she never felt the guilt of the others who were forced to share that secret.
Atlantis isn’t human. She’s not even intelligent in the way that years of science fiction have secretly prepared Rodney to accept. She is a machine that responds to the thoughts of the gene carriers and the typed commands of anyone with a laptop capable of interfacing with Ancient technology.
This makes Rodney’s life more difficult than he might have anticipated . . . if he’d ever given a second’s thought to things like, oh, say, consequences.
He tells himself that people washed in cold water and slept on floors for thousands of years.
Since nothing much happened to them, he'll survive, too.
*********************
I'm still offering extra points to the person who can name the song from which the title was taken!