more Blue
II.
They were the perfect team. John hung back and drawled while Rodney got up in everyone’s faces and worried and fretted and bragged and yelled and generally personified the squeaky wheel. Then Rodney dropped back and quipped while John shot things, since they’d been too busy staring, appalled, at Rodney to even notice John had his hand on the gun. It was the perfect system.
Until John got turned into a bug. Then they had to iron out a few minor readjustments. John didn’t seem quite so harmless anymore, visibly part Iratus bug, even though his drawl was still exactly the same. And his hair. Christ, Rodney couldn’t even imagine how anyone could take the man seriously with hair like that, blueness notwithstanding.
God knew no one had ever mistaken Ronon as harmless. That was never going to change. The man just exuded danger, and hormones, while he was at it. You took one look at him and he practically screamed, “Fuck with me, I dare you. I will kick your ass black and blue and make you like it.”
Not that Rodney had thought about it, or anything. At all.
Teyla could pass for harmless, though. Not that she was. But if you didn’t know what to expect, she could seem harmless. If you didn’t know what to expect and were blind. Which, apparently, most of the Pegasus galaxy was. Better for them.
Everyone always thought Rodney was harmless. And technically, unless you registered his brain as a lethal weapon- which he totally would, if the morons who registered that sort of thing could even begin to grasp the true scope of his genius- he was. But that was okay. Because the other three on his team weren’t.
They weren’t really the flagship team anymore, thanks to John’s tricky genetics. Freaked the mundanes out, as Rodney liked to say. Wimps.
They weren’t, y’know, technically a team anymore. Teyla went on loan to a bunch of other teams, since she was better with the diplomacy stuff than almost anyone but Elizabeth, and where she went, Ronon followed, since he… really didn’t have a lot better to do. Rodney fixed things and kept the city running smoothly. John did commander-type things and kicked the crap out of everyone, even Ronon, since he had the advantage of all those Iratus-bug extras like strength, speed, the ability to leap ten feet in almost any direction without trying too hard, and climbing just about everything. Occasionally, when watching these training sessions, Rodney would have the intense desire for Kolya to attempt an attack on Atlantis again, just to see his face when John annihilated the strike force. It was his favorite non-sex fantasy on the days when the universe just seemed to hate him, a lot.
Continued here.
They were the perfect team. John hung back and drawled while Rodney got up in everyone’s faces and worried and fretted and bragged and yelled and generally personified the squeaky wheel. Then Rodney dropped back and quipped while John shot things, since they’d been too busy staring, appalled, at Rodney to even notice John had his hand on the gun. It was the perfect system.
Until John got turned into a bug. Then they had to iron out a few minor readjustments. John didn’t seem quite so harmless anymore, visibly part Iratus bug, even though his drawl was still exactly the same. And his hair. Christ, Rodney couldn’t even imagine how anyone could take the man seriously with hair like that, blueness notwithstanding.
God knew no one had ever mistaken Ronon as harmless. That was never going to change. The man just exuded danger, and hormones, while he was at it. You took one look at him and he practically screamed, “Fuck with me, I dare you. I will kick your ass black and blue and make you like it.”
Not that Rodney had thought about it, or anything. At all.
Teyla could pass for harmless, though. Not that she was. But if you didn’t know what to expect, she could seem harmless. If you didn’t know what to expect and were blind. Which, apparently, most of the Pegasus galaxy was. Better for them.
Everyone always thought Rodney was harmless. And technically, unless you registered his brain as a lethal weapon- which he totally would, if the morons who registered that sort of thing could even begin to grasp the true scope of his genius- he was. But that was okay. Because the other three on his team weren’t.
They weren’t really the flagship team anymore, thanks to John’s tricky genetics. Freaked the mundanes out, as Rodney liked to say. Wimps.
They weren’t, y’know, technically a team anymore. Teyla went on loan to a bunch of other teams, since she was better with the diplomacy stuff than almost anyone but Elizabeth, and where she went, Ronon followed, since he… really didn’t have a lot better to do. Rodney fixed things and kept the city running smoothly. John did commander-type things and kicked the crap out of everyone, even Ronon, since he had the advantage of all those Iratus-bug extras like strength, speed, the ability to leap ten feet in almost any direction without trying too hard, and climbing just about everything. Occasionally, when watching these training sessions, Rodney would have the intense desire for Kolya to attempt an attack on Atlantis again, just to see his face when John annihilated the strike force. It was his favorite non-sex fantasy on the days when the universe just seemed to hate him, a lot.
Continued here.