Song & Dance, by ellex42
Song and Dance
By ellex42
Rated G
Summary: Two ficlets. Song: pre-slash, McKay/Sheppard, songfic, smarm alert. Dance: just an odd idea I had. Gen. Set during Season 2 episode Duet with a tiny spoiler for Critical Mass.
Song
The bonfire lit the faces of the people around it with flickering light, turning familiar features strange. Elizabeth could feel the heat of the fire on her own face, the chill of autumn on the Mainland at her back. It wasn't like the frigid breezes she remembered from her childhood, though. For a moment she felt the slight sting of nostalgia, of Halloweens cold enough to require a costume that included a sweater or jacket, the promise of frost in the air.
The Athosians were happy with the temperate nature of weather on the Mainland, since it let them plant winter crops. Teyla had put it best, of course, saying that the season was just cold and unpleasant enough to make one grateful for summer.
The summer crop harvest was an excellent excuse for a celebration, the cooler weather making both humans and domesticated animals restless and excitable. The Earth humans living in the unchanging city of Atlantis could feel it too, and were more than happy to attend the festivities.
There had been dancing earlier, to help work up an appetite for the huge meal to come, and the meal really was enormous. Now they were all spread out around the bonfire, bloated with too much food, listening to Sheppard telling a story to the children - something about a bunch of kids seeking stolen treasure to buy a ZPM to protect the Ancient city that was their home - and she belatedly recognized it as 'The Goonies', with various minor details changed to fit the Pegasus Galaxy.
He came to the end of the story far too soon to suit the enraptured children, who were hustled off to bed by their tired parents. The party grew quieter, bottles and skins containing various forms of alcohol being brought out and passed around. Elizabeth accepted a mug-full of something sweet that burned lightly going down her throat.
She was distracted from her contemplation of the dancing flames when Teyla crossed in front of her, bearing a large object which she presented, with teasing formality, to John Sheppard. He accepted it reluctantly, and when he settled it on his knee, Elizabeth saw that it was a stringed instrument very like a small guitar.
The soldier strummed it softly, feeling his way into the sound it produced. After a few practice chords, he began to play a slow, wistful tune that seemed familiar. She took another sip of her drink and let the music relax her even more, closing her eyes.
"Saying I love you is not the words I want to hear from you," a soft voice matched words to the notes. She opened her eyes to see who was singing, and nearly dropped her mug. "It's not that I want you not to say but if you only knew how easy it would be to show me how you feel…"
Rodney McKay sat on the bench beside Sheppard, cradling his own mug. It sat forgotten in his hands as he sang in a light voice, almost a falsetto but sweet and plaintive.
"More than words is all you have to do to make it real,
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me,
Cause I'd already know…"
Then Sheppard joined in and Elizabeth's jaw dropped. His husky tenor wove hesitantly around Rodney's voice, creating a pleasant harmony.
"All you have to do is close your eyes,
And just reach out your hands,
and touch me, hold me close, don't ever let me go…"
As she watched, Rodney glanced sideways at Sheppard, giving him a look Elizabeth had seen a thousand times before, but just this moment recognized as being affectionate. John flashed a grin back at him, and a stunned realization hit Elizabeth hard enough to make her gasp a little.
This wasn't just a song. John Sheppard and Rodney McKay weren't just friends and coworkers. There was far more between them than Elizabeth had ever suspected, and although she was fairly sure that they weren't physically involved - yet - she couldn't deny the truth of what she saw.
"More than words to show you feel
that your love for me is real.
What would you say if I took those words away,
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you…"
More Than Words by Extreme
Dance
John Sheppard followed the echoing tap-tap-tappity sound down a long hallway, one hand on his sidearm. Some days he felt a little silly carrying it around all the time - with the ZPM, Atlantis was pretty secure - but on the other hand, better safe than sorry.
His father used to say that all the time, and as a child it had driven John nuts; but as he grew older in both years and experience, he'd come to see the wisdom in the axiom. So he still wore his sidearm most of the time, even on Atlantis…even off-duty.
And one of the other ways he practiced being safe was by dedicating a portion of his time to memorizing the layout of the Ancient city. There was a pattern to it, but it was a very complicated pattern, made even more difficult by the variations in it that depended on which level you were on and which arm of the city you were in.
The area he was currently in had already been cleared, but it was one of the many uninhabited sections, and he hadn't been back to it since the initial exploration. Certainly no one else should be there, and he couldn't remember seeing anything that could have been making that odd, slightly metallic tapping noise. As he listened, he heard several perfectly spaced single taps, followed by a flurry of them in a discernable pattern. Whatever it was, the rhythm it made was the definitely product of an intelligent being, not a loose fixture being moved by a breeze from the ventilation system.
If his memory was correct, there was a large, multi-level open space at the end of this corridor, with a series of wide staircases connecting the different levels. It would be a dangerous space in which to confront a hostile person - or thing.
John drew the Beretta from its holster, the familiar weight settling comfortable into his grasp. He put his other hand up to the radio tucked in his ear, ready to key it on and yell for backup.
He took a deep breath and stood to one side of the doorway. The door in front of him slid open silently, bright light spilling through it and nearly blinding him. He squinted around the edge of the door.
John had seen many strange things in his life, both terrifying and wondrous, but none of them compared to the sight of Rodney McKay dancing down a broad staircase, giving a fairly passable impression of Fred Astaire. He skipped lightly up and down the steps, tapping and twirling with surprising grace. His arms swung easily and smoothly, a far contrast from their normal abrupt gestures.
Rodney didn't notice him until John had reached a point barely fifteen feet away. He stopped abruptly, breathing hard and blushing painfully.
"Oh shit," the scientist muttered.
'I, ah…I…have no idea what to say," John told him. "It never occurred to me that you could…and you never said anything…"
"Well," Rodney said, giving him a small grin, "tap-dancing isn’t usually the kind of skill you look for in a Marine, sir."
"Cadman?" Then this wasn't actually Rodney standing in front of him, but Lieutenant Laura Cadman, who was currently inhabiting Rodney's brain.
"Uh, yes, sir?" Belatedly, Cadman snapped to attention.
John holstered the Beretta and rubbed his hand over his face. "At ease, Lieutenant. Can, ah, can I speak to Rodney?"
"Um…no, sorry, sir. He's asleep. Really asleep. I mean, if all that…dancing…I was doing didn't wake him up..."
"Yeah. Maybe you shouldn't, you know, do...stuff when he's asleep, Lieutenant. I don't think he'd be very happy with you using him to…tap-dance."
She - he - oh god, what the hell was the correct pronoun for this? John thought. Cadman was standing at parade rest, which didn't really look all that unusual on Rodney's body. It was the little things that gave her away - the stiff set of the shoulders, the poker face, the air of respectful attention - all were totally alien to Rodney's normal body language, and all were very disturbing.
"Yes, sir. I'm sure you're right, although it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. To dance using his body, I mean. Doctor McKay has excellent balance, and he's more graceful than you'd think."
"Look, I know this has to be really…scary…but I'm sure Doctor Zelenka will figure this out and get you out of there. Just…just take McKay to bed, Lieutenant. I mean, to sleep! Okay? Please?"
She nodded, saluted again - it was so weird to see that - and headed for the door. Even the walk was off. A man's hips were never meant to sway like that. Her shoes - Rodney's shoes - made more little tapping sounds as she walked away.
"Lieutenant!" he called.
She turned with far more alacrity than Rodney would ever show. "Yes, sir?"
"Those shoes have rubber soles. How did you get them to make that sound?"
She lifted one foot to show him a cluster of round, flat bits of metal pushed into the thick, soft rubber. "Thumbtacks, sir." She put her foot back down and did a little tappity shuffle, toes twinkling as much as was possible in the sturdy shoes.
He nodded and waved her on. As soon as the door closed behind her, John staggered over to the steps and sat heavily.
The image was never going to leave him. Not if he lived for a thousand years, Ascended, came back and lived a thousand more. John Sheppard would never forget seeing Rodney tap-dancing as gracefully and confidently as if he'd been doing it for years. He had to wonder, though: it had been Cadman's mind directing the body, but the physical form was Rodney's. Was it only the controlling mental influence that had made Rodney so graceful and nimble? Or might there be more to Rodney McKay than any of them knew?
Nah…
~finis~
By ellex42
Rated G
Summary: Two ficlets. Song: pre-slash, McKay/Sheppard, songfic, smarm alert. Dance: just an odd idea I had. Gen. Set during Season 2 episode Duet with a tiny spoiler for Critical Mass.
Song
The bonfire lit the faces of the people around it with flickering light, turning familiar features strange. Elizabeth could feel the heat of the fire on her own face, the chill of autumn on the Mainland at her back. It wasn't like the frigid breezes she remembered from her childhood, though. For a moment she felt the slight sting of nostalgia, of Halloweens cold enough to require a costume that included a sweater or jacket, the promise of frost in the air.
The Athosians were happy with the temperate nature of weather on the Mainland, since it let them plant winter crops. Teyla had put it best, of course, saying that the season was just cold and unpleasant enough to make one grateful for summer.
The summer crop harvest was an excellent excuse for a celebration, the cooler weather making both humans and domesticated animals restless and excitable. The Earth humans living in the unchanging city of Atlantis could feel it too, and were more than happy to attend the festivities.
There had been dancing earlier, to help work up an appetite for the huge meal to come, and the meal really was enormous. Now they were all spread out around the bonfire, bloated with too much food, listening to Sheppard telling a story to the children - something about a bunch of kids seeking stolen treasure to buy a ZPM to protect the Ancient city that was their home - and she belatedly recognized it as 'The Goonies', with various minor details changed to fit the Pegasus Galaxy.
He came to the end of the story far too soon to suit the enraptured children, who were hustled off to bed by their tired parents. The party grew quieter, bottles and skins containing various forms of alcohol being brought out and passed around. Elizabeth accepted a mug-full of something sweet that burned lightly going down her throat.
She was distracted from her contemplation of the dancing flames when Teyla crossed in front of her, bearing a large object which she presented, with teasing formality, to John Sheppard. He accepted it reluctantly, and when he settled it on his knee, Elizabeth saw that it was a stringed instrument very like a small guitar.
The soldier strummed it softly, feeling his way into the sound it produced. After a few practice chords, he began to play a slow, wistful tune that seemed familiar. She took another sip of her drink and let the music relax her even more, closing her eyes.
"Saying I love you is not the words I want to hear from you," a soft voice matched words to the notes. She opened her eyes to see who was singing, and nearly dropped her mug. "It's not that I want you not to say but if you only knew how easy it would be to show me how you feel…"
Rodney McKay sat on the bench beside Sheppard, cradling his own mug. It sat forgotten in his hands as he sang in a light voice, almost a falsetto but sweet and plaintive.
"More than words is all you have to do to make it real,
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me,
Cause I'd already know…"
Then Sheppard joined in and Elizabeth's jaw dropped. His husky tenor wove hesitantly around Rodney's voice, creating a pleasant harmony.
"All you have to do is close your eyes,
And just reach out your hands,
and touch me, hold me close, don't ever let me go…"
As she watched, Rodney glanced sideways at Sheppard, giving him a look Elizabeth had seen a thousand times before, but just this moment recognized as being affectionate. John flashed a grin back at him, and a stunned realization hit Elizabeth hard enough to make her gasp a little.
This wasn't just a song. John Sheppard and Rodney McKay weren't just friends and coworkers. There was far more between them than Elizabeth had ever suspected, and although she was fairly sure that they weren't physically involved - yet - she couldn't deny the truth of what she saw.
"More than words to show you feel
that your love for me is real.
What would you say if I took those words away,
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you…"
More Than Words by Extreme
Dance
John Sheppard followed the echoing tap-tap-tappity sound down a long hallway, one hand on his sidearm. Some days he felt a little silly carrying it around all the time - with the ZPM, Atlantis was pretty secure - but on the other hand, better safe than sorry.
His father used to say that all the time, and as a child it had driven John nuts; but as he grew older in both years and experience, he'd come to see the wisdom in the axiom. So he still wore his sidearm most of the time, even on Atlantis…even off-duty.
And one of the other ways he practiced being safe was by dedicating a portion of his time to memorizing the layout of the Ancient city. There was a pattern to it, but it was a very complicated pattern, made even more difficult by the variations in it that depended on which level you were on and which arm of the city you were in.
The area he was currently in had already been cleared, but it was one of the many uninhabited sections, and he hadn't been back to it since the initial exploration. Certainly no one else should be there, and he couldn't remember seeing anything that could have been making that odd, slightly metallic tapping noise. As he listened, he heard several perfectly spaced single taps, followed by a flurry of them in a discernable pattern. Whatever it was, the rhythm it made was the definitely product of an intelligent being, not a loose fixture being moved by a breeze from the ventilation system.
If his memory was correct, there was a large, multi-level open space at the end of this corridor, with a series of wide staircases connecting the different levels. It would be a dangerous space in which to confront a hostile person - or thing.
John drew the Beretta from its holster, the familiar weight settling comfortable into his grasp. He put his other hand up to the radio tucked in his ear, ready to key it on and yell for backup.
He took a deep breath and stood to one side of the doorway. The door in front of him slid open silently, bright light spilling through it and nearly blinding him. He squinted around the edge of the door.
John had seen many strange things in his life, both terrifying and wondrous, but none of them compared to the sight of Rodney McKay dancing down a broad staircase, giving a fairly passable impression of Fred Astaire. He skipped lightly up and down the steps, tapping and twirling with surprising grace. His arms swung easily and smoothly, a far contrast from their normal abrupt gestures.
Rodney didn't notice him until John had reached a point barely fifteen feet away. He stopped abruptly, breathing hard and blushing painfully.
"Oh shit," the scientist muttered.
'I, ah…I…have no idea what to say," John told him. "It never occurred to me that you could…and you never said anything…"
"Well," Rodney said, giving him a small grin, "tap-dancing isn’t usually the kind of skill you look for in a Marine, sir."
"Cadman?" Then this wasn't actually Rodney standing in front of him, but Lieutenant Laura Cadman, who was currently inhabiting Rodney's brain.
"Uh, yes, sir?" Belatedly, Cadman snapped to attention.
John holstered the Beretta and rubbed his hand over his face. "At ease, Lieutenant. Can, ah, can I speak to Rodney?"
"Um…no, sorry, sir. He's asleep. Really asleep. I mean, if all that…dancing…I was doing didn't wake him up..."
"Yeah. Maybe you shouldn't, you know, do...stuff when he's asleep, Lieutenant. I don't think he'd be very happy with you using him to…tap-dance."
She - he - oh god, what the hell was the correct pronoun for this? John thought. Cadman was standing at parade rest, which didn't really look all that unusual on Rodney's body. It was the little things that gave her away - the stiff set of the shoulders, the poker face, the air of respectful attention - all were totally alien to Rodney's normal body language, and all were very disturbing.
"Yes, sir. I'm sure you're right, although it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. To dance using his body, I mean. Doctor McKay has excellent balance, and he's more graceful than you'd think."
"Look, I know this has to be really…scary…but I'm sure Doctor Zelenka will figure this out and get you out of there. Just…just take McKay to bed, Lieutenant. I mean, to sleep! Okay? Please?"
She nodded, saluted again - it was so weird to see that - and headed for the door. Even the walk was off. A man's hips were never meant to sway like that. Her shoes - Rodney's shoes - made more little tapping sounds as she walked away.
"Lieutenant!" he called.
She turned with far more alacrity than Rodney would ever show. "Yes, sir?"
"Those shoes have rubber soles. How did you get them to make that sound?"
She lifted one foot to show him a cluster of round, flat bits of metal pushed into the thick, soft rubber. "Thumbtacks, sir." She put her foot back down and did a little tappity shuffle, toes twinkling as much as was possible in the sturdy shoes.
He nodded and waved her on. As soon as the door closed behind her, John staggered over to the steps and sat heavily.
The image was never going to leave him. Not if he lived for a thousand years, Ascended, came back and lived a thousand more. John Sheppard would never forget seeing Rodney tap-dancing as gracefully and confidently as if he'd been doing it for years. He had to wonder, though: it had been Cadman's mind directing the body, but the physical form was Rodney's. Was it only the controlling mental influence that had made Rodney so graceful and nimble? Or might there be more to Rodney McKay than any of them knew?
Nah…
~finis~