x-over fic, ch. 5 revised
Sorry for the long wait, but things have just been really hectic lately.
Thanks for all the comments and suggestions! *luff you all* And great news, Sal has agreed to be my beta from now on. Her first - and very good - point was that Ronon opened up to Dean too quickly in the last chapter, so I've rewritten the second half. Here it is, let me know what you think. I'll have the next chapter up later today as well, gotta do a bit of tweaking due to a suggestion from my wonderful beta.
“Kick butt first, drink beer later?” Dean stood and stretched, working the stiff muscles in his shoulders. “Sounds like a plan.”
An hour later the former runner and the hunter were sitting on the South Pier in comfortable silence, legs dangling over the water.
“Awesome what you can do with those sticks, dude,” Dean finally said, gratefully rolling his cold beer can over the bruise that was forming on his cheek bone. “Where’d you learn that?”
Ronon took a swallow from his own drink. “Satedan military. Basic training. Then the Wraith hunted me for seven years. Had to fight back.”
“Yeah, somebody mentioned you’d been a ‘Runner’ before you came here.” Dean looked across the water at the lights of Atlantis’ towers. “So how do you kill a Wraith?” When he saw Ronon’s questioning look he shrugged. “Professional curiosity.”
“It helps when they’re hungry. Less self healing power. A P-90 will do then.”
Dean had the leather diary out and was taking notes on a blank page at the end.
“How about hand-to-hand combat? Any weak spots?”
Ronon shrugged. “Their bodies are different. Cutting their throats is no good, but running ‘em through with something often does enough damage.”
When Ronon paused, Dean looked up.
“Anything else?”
There was a dangerous glint in Ronon’s eye.
“If you wanna make sure, chop off their heads.”
Dean grinned. “Just like our vampires on earth. My favorite hunt.” He sighed. “Too bad that’s not what we’re up against here. I’d love to have a stab at one of your space fangs.”
Crushing his empty beer can in his big hands, Ronon muttered, “Be careful what you wish for. The Wraith tend to show up when you least expect it.”
Thanks for all the comments and suggestions! *luff you all* And great news, Sal has agreed to be my beta from now on. Her first - and very good - point was that Ronon opened up to Dean too quickly in the last chapter, so I've rewritten the second half. Here it is, let me know what you think. I'll have the next chapter up later today as well, gotta do a bit of tweaking due to a suggestion from my wonderful beta.
“Kick butt first, drink beer later?” Dean stood and stretched, working the stiff muscles in his shoulders. “Sounds like a plan.”
An hour later the former runner and the hunter were sitting on the South Pier in comfortable silence, legs dangling over the water.
“Awesome what you can do with those sticks, dude,” Dean finally said, gratefully rolling his cold beer can over the bruise that was forming on his cheek bone. “Where’d you learn that?”
Ronon took a swallow from his own drink. “Satedan military. Basic training. Then the Wraith hunted me for seven years. Had to fight back.”
“Yeah, somebody mentioned you’d been a ‘Runner’ before you came here.” Dean looked across the water at the lights of Atlantis’ towers. “So how do you kill a Wraith?” When he saw Ronon’s questioning look he shrugged. “Professional curiosity.”
“It helps when they’re hungry. Less self healing power. A P-90 will do then.”
Dean had the leather diary out and was taking notes on a blank page at the end.
“How about hand-to-hand combat? Any weak spots?”
Ronon shrugged. “Their bodies are different. Cutting their throats is no good, but running ‘em through with something often does enough damage.”
When Ronon paused, Dean looked up.
“Anything else?”
There was a dangerous glint in Ronon’s eye.
“If you wanna make sure, chop off their heads.”
Dean grinned. “Just like our vampires on earth. My favorite hunt.” He sighed. “Too bad that’s not what we’re up against here. I’d love to have a stab at one of your space fangs.”
Crushing his empty beer can in his big hands, Ronon muttered, “Be careful what you wish for. The Wraith tend to show up when you least expect it.”