Skirting the Issue by _inbetween_ ( Skirt Challenge)
Title: Skirting the Issue
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Thanks to wax_jism for the boating answer, and my spela for the beta. Dedicated to _bettina_, helleboredoll and fenris_wolf0, with gratitude.
Note: Short. My first AU. It begged to be written. Loudly.
“I called my sister. Jeannie was so happy she cried! She wants you to have her wedding gown.”
Radek had it good, John thought as he looked back towards the coast. They’d left the hotel, the police and the mafia far behind, but John did not at all feel relieved. While Radek was back in pants and off with his (decidedly feminine) girl, very much in love and scot-free, John once again had to give his life - or at least his body and sanity - to save their asses. Groaning inwardly, he thought of yet another excuse that might let him off the hook without getting him thrown to the fishes.
“I can’t get married in your sister’s dress, Rodney. She and I - we’re not built the same way.”
He looked glumly at the man beside him. Rodney was humming and occasionally bouncing on the balls of his feet as he made his fancy boat take them away from one mess and surely into a much bigger one. Ever since Rodney had proposed to John, his usual preoccupied manner had turned completely quixotic. He still had a red rose stuck behind his ear, and John caught himself thinking that it looked oddly fetching.
“We can have it altered.”
John revised his opinion again. The man was a menace, and there might be some horns poking out between that fine hair. Narrowing his eyes, he decided he really had to be more direct to get through to Rodney.
“No, we can’t. I’ll level with you.” Another deep breath, and why wasn’t this as easy as he’d expected? “We can’t get married at all.”
“Why not?” Rodney asked, completely unruffled.
“I’m … I’m not a real blonde,” John announced grandly, ripping off his wig.
Rodney barely shot him a glance and kept steering them ever further from the coast, smiling serenely. “Doesn’t matter. You’re a very pretty brunette, Jane.”
“Rodney, listen, we cannot do this … I’m not Jane! I’m not the woman you think I am.”
“I like surprises.”
“I am really hairy. Hirsute! And I’m not into shaving.”
Rodney grinned broadly and winked at him. “I don’t mind.”
“Well - you won’t like this one,” John said with undisguised glee. “I’ve got a doctorate! I’m not really dumb!”
“Cool.”
The smug little smile was still in place. John rubbed his hand across his tired eyes, only to smudge his mascara further. One day, he’d laugh at this, oh yeah. Taking a deep breath, John said in his most serious and insistent voice: “I can never, ever have children.”
Rodney barely blinked before replying, “We can adopt some”.
John wanted to stamp his foot and tear his hair, then reigned himself in. He was not a girl, he could not actually marry a guy, no matter how mad and rich said guy was, and he really needed to get out of these clothes.
“I have a terrible past! I’ve been living with different men the last ten years. Mostly big, muscled guys. With guns!”
“I forgive you.”
Having reached his breaking point, John fumbled with the fastenings, then simply tore the cheap fabric of his skirt apart, shouting dramatically (or at least in a very exasperated manner):
“Rodney, you don’t understand. I’m a man!”
An expression of rapturous bliss on the mad millionaire’s face was all he got for his revelation, before Rodney let go of the throttle, bent forward, grabbed John’s hips and nuzzled his cock.
„You are perfect.“
The Beginning
Note: Obviously, this ficlet is a riff on the classic ending of Wilder’s ingenious movie.
ETA: detailed retelling.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Thanks to wax_jism for the boating answer, and my spela for the beta. Dedicated to _bettina_, helleboredoll and fenris_wolf0, with gratitude.
Note: Short. My first AU. It begged to be written. Loudly.
“I called my sister. Jeannie was so happy she cried! She wants you to have her wedding gown.”
Radek had it good, John thought as he looked back towards the coast. They’d left the hotel, the police and the mafia far behind, but John did not at all feel relieved. While Radek was back in pants and off with his (decidedly feminine) girl, very much in love and scot-free, John once again had to give his life - or at least his body and sanity - to save their asses. Groaning inwardly, he thought of yet another excuse that might let him off the hook without getting him thrown to the fishes.
“I can’t get married in your sister’s dress, Rodney. She and I - we’re not built the same way.”
He looked glumly at the man beside him. Rodney was humming and occasionally bouncing on the balls of his feet as he made his fancy boat take them away from one mess and surely into a much bigger one. Ever since Rodney had proposed to John, his usual preoccupied manner had turned completely quixotic. He still had a red rose stuck behind his ear, and John caught himself thinking that it looked oddly fetching.
“We can have it altered.”
John revised his opinion again. The man was a menace, and there might be some horns poking out between that fine hair. Narrowing his eyes, he decided he really had to be more direct to get through to Rodney.
“No, we can’t. I’ll level with you.” Another deep breath, and why wasn’t this as easy as he’d expected? “We can’t get married at all.”
“Why not?” Rodney asked, completely unruffled.
“I’m … I’m not a real blonde,” John announced grandly, ripping off his wig.
Rodney barely shot him a glance and kept steering them ever further from the coast, smiling serenely. “Doesn’t matter. You’re a very pretty brunette, Jane.”
“Rodney, listen, we cannot do this … I’m not Jane! I’m not the woman you think I am.”
“I like surprises.”
“I am really hairy. Hirsute! And I’m not into shaving.”
Rodney grinned broadly and winked at him. “I don’t mind.”
“Well - you won’t like this one,” John said with undisguised glee. “I’ve got a doctorate! I’m not really dumb!”
“Cool.”
The smug little smile was still in place. John rubbed his hand across his tired eyes, only to smudge his mascara further. One day, he’d laugh at this, oh yeah. Taking a deep breath, John said in his most serious and insistent voice: “I can never, ever have children.”
Rodney barely blinked before replying, “We can adopt some”.
John wanted to stamp his foot and tear his hair, then reigned himself in. He was not a girl, he could not actually marry a guy, no matter how mad and rich said guy was, and he really needed to get out of these clothes.
“I have a terrible past! I’ve been living with different men the last ten years. Mostly big, muscled guys. With guns!”
“I forgive you.”
Having reached his breaking point, John fumbled with the fastenings, then simply tore the cheap fabric of his skirt apart, shouting dramatically (or at least in a very exasperated manner):
“Rodney, you don’t understand. I’m a man!”
An expression of rapturous bliss on the mad millionaire’s face was all he got for his revelation, before Rodney let go of the throttle, bent forward, grabbed John’s hips and nuzzled his cock.
„You are perfect.“
The Beginning
Note: Obviously, this ficlet is a riff on the classic ending of Wilder’s ingenious movie.
ETA: detailed retelling.