SG_rarepairings fic: Gangbusters, Mitchell & Ronon, "jello wrestling", gen, PG-13
Title: Gangbusters
Author:
vain_glorious
Word Count: 839
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ronon and Teyla visit the SGC.
Disclaimer: Not mine
The SGC gave Ronon and Teyla each a babysitter, even if it wasn’t called that. Teyla accepted it with her usual grace, but Ronon didn’t feel the need to do any such thing. He’d been on this planet before, watched a bunch of movies about it, and lived with its natives for a couple of years now. He wasn’t an infant, he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t need an escort.
Especially one that could probably compete with Rodney McKay in the some kind of Talking-Really-Fast-And-Being-Annoying contest. Except if it had been Rodney, Ronon could have growled and shoved him a couple of times and he’d both have shut up and gone away. Yelled about it a little, first, but he had a reasonable grasp of when he wasn’t wanted and he occasionally remembered that Ronon was much bigger and could fold him into a little ball and kick him off one of the piers if he wanted to.
There weren’t any piers around here, though, since the facility was deep underground. It was dim and cavernous, a giant industrial maze, and that was part of the reason Ronon wanted out, and the whole reason why Daniel Jackson - the man who wouldn’t shut up -had to come with him.
Jackson had picked up on the fact that Ronon was pissed off, but hadn’t responded to any of his more obvious requests to be left alone or that if Ronon didn’t think SGC security would react very badly to it, he’d have already tied Jackson to one of the omnipresent industrial pipes and been on his way.
The man didn’t scare as easily as McKay did, or at least once had. He absorbed any sign of aggression with a careful blink and then a monologue trying to diffuse it. Kind of reminded him of Teyla, except he liked Teyla better and she probably would understand that he wanted to hit her at this point, too. And then she’d hit him back, which was a lot of why he liked her.
“I know you’d prefer to explore our world with one of your teammates,” Jackson was saying, “but Colonel Sheppard has a few dozen meetings to attend, I think Dr. McKay and Colonel Carter are lassoing cold fusion in the labs - that or killing each other - and I’m not sure where Ms. Emmagan is.”
That was a lie, since Ronon had watched Teyla go off with her own babysitter, a colonel named Mitchell who looked a lot like Jackson, and who had been staring at Teyla with unmistakable hunger. Ronon would have interfered - severely interfered - if he didn’t know that Teyla wouldn’t appreciate it and might also break his arm. He hoped she’d break the horny colonel’s arm.
“Anyways,” Jackson went on, pausing to assess Ronon’s face with concern. “There are a number of things going on locally I thought you might be interested in. There’s a cultural festival in Colorado Springs, including Romanian folk-dancing…”
Ronon sank back against the wall of the elevator and tuned Jackson out completely. He eyed the security camera blinking at them from the ceiling, and wondered how mad Sheppard would be if he got caught. Then, he wondered just how well-liked Jackson was. If someone smacked McKay around, he’d have to murder them, and that was probably the case here, too.
Teyla and her babysitter were waiting for them by the exit. Ronon cast an eye up and down her, just in case there were any obvious signs of mishandling. She didn’t look bothered, and the colonel didn’t look like he’d recently been kicked in the face, so Ronon assumed the man had behaved thus far.
The colonel grabbed Jackson’s arm and pulled him aside with a harried “Excuse us.”
“We have to switch,” Mitchell whispered. “I’ll take him, you take her.”
“What?” asked Jackson, less quietly. “You bribed me to get her! You promised to take Vala off my hands for a whole week, there’s no backing out of that.”
“I’m not backing out of that,” Mitchell hissed, “Although, damn, that was a really dumb decision on my part.”
“Uh-huh,” Jackson said, flatly.
“Listen, you and her,” Mitchell said, “gangbusters.” He knocked his fists together in a hand gesture that sure as hell had better not have been shorthand for fucking.
“Fine,” Jackson said. “You want to take Ronon to the cultural festival?”
Mitchell gave a short laugh. “We’ll find something cultural.”
Jackson rolled his eyes, patted Mitchell on the arm, and went over to introduce himself to Teyla. Mitchell approached Ronon, hand out in greeting.
“Cam Mitchell,” he said, and Ronon shook his palm. “I thought we’d have more fun together,” he explained, which meant Teyla had shot him down. “There’s a grand tradition here at the SGC of the first Earth event we take aliens to see.”
“What’s that?” Ronon asked, really hoping it wasn’t folk-dancing.
“Jello wrestling,” Mitchell said, and the expression on Ronon’s face made him crack a huge grin. He clapped Ronon on the arm. “Trust me, you’ll love it."
~Please Feed the Author~
Author:
vain_glorious
Word Count: 839
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ronon and Teyla visit the SGC.
Disclaimer: Not mine
The SGC gave Ronon and Teyla each a babysitter, even if it wasn’t called that. Teyla accepted it with her usual grace, but Ronon didn’t feel the need to do any such thing. He’d been on this planet before, watched a bunch of movies about it, and lived with its natives for a couple of years now. He wasn’t an infant, he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t need an escort.
Especially one that could probably compete with Rodney McKay in the some kind of Talking-Really-Fast-And-Being-Annoying contest. Except if it had been Rodney, Ronon could have growled and shoved him a couple of times and he’d both have shut up and gone away. Yelled about it a little, first, but he had a reasonable grasp of when he wasn’t wanted and he occasionally remembered that Ronon was much bigger and could fold him into a little ball and kick him off one of the piers if he wanted to.
There weren’t any piers around here, though, since the facility was deep underground. It was dim and cavernous, a giant industrial maze, and that was part of the reason Ronon wanted out, and the whole reason why Daniel Jackson - the man who wouldn’t shut up -had to come with him.
Jackson had picked up on the fact that Ronon was pissed off, but hadn’t responded to any of his more obvious requests to be left alone or that if Ronon didn’t think SGC security would react very badly to it, he’d have already tied Jackson to one of the omnipresent industrial pipes and been on his way.
The man didn’t scare as easily as McKay did, or at least once had. He absorbed any sign of aggression with a careful blink and then a monologue trying to diffuse it. Kind of reminded him of Teyla, except he liked Teyla better and she probably would understand that he wanted to hit her at this point, too. And then she’d hit him back, which was a lot of why he liked her.
“I know you’d prefer to explore our world with one of your teammates,” Jackson was saying, “but Colonel Sheppard has a few dozen meetings to attend, I think Dr. McKay and Colonel Carter are lassoing cold fusion in the labs - that or killing each other - and I’m not sure where Ms. Emmagan is.”
That was a lie, since Ronon had watched Teyla go off with her own babysitter, a colonel named Mitchell who looked a lot like Jackson, and who had been staring at Teyla with unmistakable hunger. Ronon would have interfered - severely interfered - if he didn’t know that Teyla wouldn’t appreciate it and might also break his arm. He hoped she’d break the horny colonel’s arm.
“Anyways,” Jackson went on, pausing to assess Ronon’s face with concern. “There are a number of things going on locally I thought you might be interested in. There’s a cultural festival in Colorado Springs, including Romanian folk-dancing…”
Ronon sank back against the wall of the elevator and tuned Jackson out completely. He eyed the security camera blinking at them from the ceiling, and wondered how mad Sheppard would be if he got caught. Then, he wondered just how well-liked Jackson was. If someone smacked McKay around, he’d have to murder them, and that was probably the case here, too.
Teyla and her babysitter were waiting for them by the exit. Ronon cast an eye up and down her, just in case there were any obvious signs of mishandling. She didn’t look bothered, and the colonel didn’t look like he’d recently been kicked in the face, so Ronon assumed the man had behaved thus far.
The colonel grabbed Jackson’s arm and pulled him aside with a harried “Excuse us.”
“We have to switch,” Mitchell whispered. “I’ll take him, you take her.”
“What?” asked Jackson, less quietly. “You bribed me to get her! You promised to take Vala off my hands for a whole week, there’s no backing out of that.”
“I’m not backing out of that,” Mitchell hissed, “Although, damn, that was a really dumb decision on my part.”
“Uh-huh,” Jackson said, flatly.
“Listen, you and her,” Mitchell said, “gangbusters.” He knocked his fists together in a hand gesture that sure as hell had better not have been shorthand for fucking.
“Fine,” Jackson said. “You want to take Ronon to the cultural festival?”
Mitchell gave a short laugh. “We’ll find something cultural.”
Jackson rolled his eyes, patted Mitchell on the arm, and went over to introduce himself to Teyla. Mitchell approached Ronon, hand out in greeting.
“Cam Mitchell,” he said, and Ronon shook his palm. “I thought we’d have more fun together,” he explained, which meant Teyla had shot him down. “There’s a grand tradition here at the SGC of the first Earth event we take aliens to see.”
“What’s that?” Ronon asked, really hoping it wasn’t folk-dancing.
“Jello wrestling,” Mitchell said, and the expression on Ronon’s face made him crack a huge grin. He clapped Ronon on the arm. “Trust me, you’ll love it."
~Please Feed the Author~