What He Needs - By Kellifer_k - (Debrief challenge)
Title: What He Needs
Author: kellifer_k
Rating: General
Pairing: None
Length: ~1114
Challenge: Debriefing
Summary: Rodney would complain how he didn't have time to entertain their resident barbarian, but would never ask him to leave.
Ronon got something different from each of the people he'd grown closest to, but for roughly the same thing.
He had taken to visiting Rodney in his lab, knowing the scientist loved to explain and gesticulate while working, about how grand he was and how he couldn't believe what a freakin' genius he was.
Ronon quashed the urge to ask Rodney why he was freaking, understanding without understanding the actual term that it was one of those quaint human expressions that he had had to get used to over the last few months.
Ronon knew that Rodney equated his laconic nature with being slightly dense but he enjoyed the rambling patter of the softer man and so never really corrected him. He really didn't understand half of what Rodney was talking about, but mostly because the scientist used unfamiliar terms rather than any great lack in comprehension. He would let the words wash over him in a tide, letting them block out the sound of his own breathing that he had grown to hate over the last seven years.
Rodney would often play up being put out by Ronon's presence, but Ronon had grown accustomed to watching people for hidden nuance in their behaviour over the years and noted the pleased flush Rodney would get just as Ronon entered his labs. A few moments after Ronon would enter, Rodney would complain how he didn't have time to entertain their resident barbarian, but would never ask him to leave.
Never.
Teyla was different.
She tended to be as economic with her speech as Ronon himself, not wasting words and only stating what was necessary. The only times he could get her to actually open up was when she too was explaining something to him, of her people or her customs or their traditions. She would light up as if something burned inside her and would go into great detail about the latest harvest and how the people worked the land, how they would celebrate someone's birth and the more sombre topic of death.
She would often look at him, her head canted slightly as if waiting for him to grow bored, but he would always be able to ask just the right pertinent question that would get her talking again. He would sit in a chair by her bed while she stretched and she would discuss their day and the latest mission and how hard it was to fit in with the others in the city of the ancestors and also the latest weird phrase a human had used that neither of them understood.
The sound would drown out the thudding of his own heart which was just too loud sometimes.
Doctor Weir was a little different.
She had tried to engage him in conversation a few times and he found it irked her greatly when he would only reply in monosyllables and then retreat. He watched her and saw that in all things she was assured but he managed to derail her, just a little bit.
He didn't know why but he enjoyed it when she was flustered and so sacrificed the conversation they might have to indulge himself. He knew he could never explain to her how such a small think helped make him feel normal and included, he couldn't really explain it to himself.
She thought she was failing when it came to Ronon but he felt as connected to her as to the others.
His second favourite words were spoken by Colonel Sheppard whenever they returned from a mission and debriefed. They would be gathered around the large conference table and Sheppard would speak, his hands as expressive as his face. Often Rodney would butt in with his own opinion about the way a mission went and when there was another team Sheppard would have to share the explanation with another leader, but Ronon would be reassured.
His past taskmasters had always been quick with a cruel word, berating their warriors for their failings and comparing their actions to other past, worse failings. There would be recriminations and brow beatings and he supposed they believed that the soldiers that served under them would only improve if they were striving for practically unattainable praise.
Sheppard was different from any he had ever known before.
He would play down failure and fill the room with gentle praise. Sheppard had no traditional Earth military members on his team so often had to contend with being disobeyed, especially by Rodney, but would never bring up these instances. Instead he would tell of great bravery and the faith he had in each and every member of his strange little group. Elizabeth would listen patiently, nodding where appropriate and asking questions when necessary but their debriefings were always quicker than every other team.
Elizabeth always trusted that they did their jobs and never had a reason to question a decision during a mission. Ronon would sometimes see her pull up Sheppard after the meeting to clarify some actions and he would answer honestly and succinctly but never lay blame.
Any reprimand would come individually and from Sheppard personally.
Ronon respected that.
At mealtimes when the whole team was together, Ronon would sit silent and they would assume he was brooding, but he was simply absorbing the gentle interplay of the people that surrounded him.
Sheppard would steal part of Rodney’s meal, who would intern complain bitterly that the very act doomed him to a very horrible and pain-filled death. Teyla would watch them indulgently and usually replace whatever food Rodney was missing from her own plate.
Sheppard would, invariably, steal part of this too.
After the latest meal, Sheppard touched Ronon on the shoulder before he retreated and they both stood, watching Teyla and Rodney wander away.
“What part of hold our position wasn’t clear to you?” Sheppard asked, his tone mild.
“I had a clear shot,” Ronon grumbled.
Sheppard leant forward and smacked a flat palm on Ronon’s chest. He hissed when the tender flesh above his latest bruised ribs was treated so poorly.
“So did they,” Sheppard said simply and then shrugged, quirking an eyebrow. “I’m going to smack you everyday in the ribs while you’re still bruised and repeat what I just said. Maybe then it will make it through that thick skull of yours.”
“Maybe,” Ronon said and was pleased to be awarded with a Sheppard grin.
“Good enough,” Sheppard nodded and left Ronon to his own devices.
Ronon smiled, a rare thing in troubled times.
He got something different out of these strange humans that had taken him in, but only Sheppard could reassure him that he was in the right place.
Author: kellifer_k
Rating: General
Pairing: None
Length: ~1114
Challenge: Debriefing
Summary: Rodney would complain how he didn't have time to entertain their resident barbarian, but would never ask him to leave.
Ronon got something different from each of the people he'd grown closest to, but for roughly the same thing.
He had taken to visiting Rodney in his lab, knowing the scientist loved to explain and gesticulate while working, about how grand he was and how he couldn't believe what a freakin' genius he was.
Ronon quashed the urge to ask Rodney why he was freaking, understanding without understanding the actual term that it was one of those quaint human expressions that he had had to get used to over the last few months.
Ronon knew that Rodney equated his laconic nature with being slightly dense but he enjoyed the rambling patter of the softer man and so never really corrected him. He really didn't understand half of what Rodney was talking about, but mostly because the scientist used unfamiliar terms rather than any great lack in comprehension. He would let the words wash over him in a tide, letting them block out the sound of his own breathing that he had grown to hate over the last seven years.
Rodney would often play up being put out by Ronon's presence, but Ronon had grown accustomed to watching people for hidden nuance in their behaviour over the years and noted the pleased flush Rodney would get just as Ronon entered his labs. A few moments after Ronon would enter, Rodney would complain how he didn't have time to entertain their resident barbarian, but would never ask him to leave.
Never.
Teyla was different.
She tended to be as economic with her speech as Ronon himself, not wasting words and only stating what was necessary. The only times he could get her to actually open up was when she too was explaining something to him, of her people or her customs or their traditions. She would light up as if something burned inside her and would go into great detail about the latest harvest and how the people worked the land, how they would celebrate someone's birth and the more sombre topic of death.
She would often look at him, her head canted slightly as if waiting for him to grow bored, but he would always be able to ask just the right pertinent question that would get her talking again. He would sit in a chair by her bed while she stretched and she would discuss their day and the latest mission and how hard it was to fit in with the others in the city of the ancestors and also the latest weird phrase a human had used that neither of them understood.
The sound would drown out the thudding of his own heart which was just too loud sometimes.
Doctor Weir was a little different.
She had tried to engage him in conversation a few times and he found it irked her greatly when he would only reply in monosyllables and then retreat. He watched her and saw that in all things she was assured but he managed to derail her, just a little bit.
He didn't know why but he enjoyed it when she was flustered and so sacrificed the conversation they might have to indulge himself. He knew he could never explain to her how such a small think helped make him feel normal and included, he couldn't really explain it to himself.
She thought she was failing when it came to Ronon but he felt as connected to her as to the others.
His second favourite words were spoken by Colonel Sheppard whenever they returned from a mission and debriefed. They would be gathered around the large conference table and Sheppard would speak, his hands as expressive as his face. Often Rodney would butt in with his own opinion about the way a mission went and when there was another team Sheppard would have to share the explanation with another leader, but Ronon would be reassured.
His past taskmasters had always been quick with a cruel word, berating their warriors for their failings and comparing their actions to other past, worse failings. There would be recriminations and brow beatings and he supposed they believed that the soldiers that served under them would only improve if they were striving for practically unattainable praise.
Sheppard was different from any he had ever known before.
He would play down failure and fill the room with gentle praise. Sheppard had no traditional Earth military members on his team so often had to contend with being disobeyed, especially by Rodney, but would never bring up these instances. Instead he would tell of great bravery and the faith he had in each and every member of his strange little group. Elizabeth would listen patiently, nodding where appropriate and asking questions when necessary but their debriefings were always quicker than every other team.
Elizabeth always trusted that they did their jobs and never had a reason to question a decision during a mission. Ronon would sometimes see her pull up Sheppard after the meeting to clarify some actions and he would answer honestly and succinctly but never lay blame.
Any reprimand would come individually and from Sheppard personally.
Ronon respected that.
At mealtimes when the whole team was together, Ronon would sit silent and they would assume he was brooding, but he was simply absorbing the gentle interplay of the people that surrounded him.
Sheppard would steal part of Rodney’s meal, who would intern complain bitterly that the very act doomed him to a very horrible and pain-filled death. Teyla would watch them indulgently and usually replace whatever food Rodney was missing from her own plate.
Sheppard would, invariably, steal part of this too.
After the latest meal, Sheppard touched Ronon on the shoulder before he retreated and they both stood, watching Teyla and Rodney wander away.
“What part of hold our position wasn’t clear to you?” Sheppard asked, his tone mild.
“I had a clear shot,” Ronon grumbled.
Sheppard leant forward and smacked a flat palm on Ronon’s chest. He hissed when the tender flesh above his latest bruised ribs was treated so poorly.
“So did they,” Sheppard said simply and then shrugged, quirking an eyebrow. “I’m going to smack you everyday in the ribs while you’re still bruised and repeat what I just said. Maybe then it will make it through that thick skull of yours.”
“Maybe,” Ronon said and was pleased to be awarded with a Sheppard grin.
“Good enough,” Sheppard nodded and left Ronon to his own devices.
Ronon smiled, a rare thing in troubled times.
He got something different out of these strange humans that had taken him in, but only Sheppard could reassure him that he was in the right place.