[Stargate: Drabble] "Lover's Berries" [John/Rodney, G]
Title: Lover’s Berries
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 900
Prompt: mcsheplets challenge 258 ‘luxury’
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Setting: part of my On the Run ‘verse
Summary: Some things are worth the effort.
Lover's Berries
Living alone in the Pegasus Galaxy, not just without resources from Earth but without a planned expedition, meant that some planets they’d once dismissed as primitive or isolated were now important allies.
Like the people of P9X-114, who called themselves the Daiina and lived in a mountainous region of their world that was, apparently, too much trouble for the Wraith to bother with. They were subsistence farmers, who grew something like a potato but with even less taste and a kind of grain that was made into both bread and beer. But at the top of the nearby mountain - two hours of hiking away and high enough that it had snow year-round - there were thorny bushes that grew fat red berries.
They were about the size of an American dime, not that John had any spare change to compare them to, and he still hadn’t found the right words to describe the taste. Sweet but not too sweet, with juice so thick it almost wasn’t a liquid anymore, wrapped in skin that seemed to dissolve on the tongue.
Since they’d discovered a semi-functional stasis pod that worked pretty well as a fridge/freezer, John and Rodney had been trading with the Daiina for foodstuffs to supplement their rapidly-dwindling supply of MREs. They’d never have been able to spare enough for the entire expedition, when they were in Atlantis, but could easily trade bread, cheese and meat enough for four adults and a toddler. It had been several visits, improving the Daiia’s irrigation system as payment that they’d heard of the fruit, called Lover’s Berries by the elderly woman who had pressed a single one into each of their palms.
The bushes wouldn’t grow below the mountaintop and it was such a pain to harvest them - the bushes had sharp thorns but the berries were too delicate to pick wearing gloves - that it had become tradition to use them for a marriage proposal or anniversary present, as proof of love and devotion.
Of course, Rodney had loved them instantly, despairing at the four-hour-round-trip to pick them, and even though he’d never mentioned the berries again, John thought about it every time they gated to the planet, every time he looked over at the mountaintop.
And it had been two years since they’d come to Pegasus, two years since Rodney had given up everything for him. John still hadn’t managed to completely wrap his mind around that, to know that he was the single most important person in Rodney’s life - apart from Ada, of course.
So John had woken up early - before dawn on P9X-114 was about three in the morning, their local time - and slipped out of bed, pressing a kiss to Rodney’s temple as he snuffled in his sleep. He met Teyla on the walkway between their cabins and she smiled at him, pausing to touch their foreheads together in the Athosian way.
“Be safe, John,” she said, and let herself into the house.
The Daiina were pleasantly surprised to see him - it was still a few weeks from their regular trading appointment - but when he explained what he wanted, they were happy to help. The trail was easy to follow and the berries easy to find, it was only the distance and the thorns that made them special. Eilia, the woman who’d first given them a taste of the Lover’s Berries, packed him a lunch, settled a hand-knit hat over his head and sent him on his way.
The path was lined with trees, but John’s coat was warm, even as he climbed steadily upward. The trees got smaller as he went, until they disappeared altogether, leaving only the scraggly berry bushes. After about a half-hour, he spotted ones with berries on them and started picking.
It was slow work. The thorns weren’t really sharp enough to cut skin, but they left scratch marks that stung, so every fifteen minutes or so John had to stop to rub his fingers with the anti-itch wipe from his first aid kit. At midday, when he stopped for lunch, he’d half-filled the old scientific sample container he’d brought to carry them, and by the time it was completely full, he had just enough time to walk back to the village before nightfall.
Rodney was waiting for him at their stargate, Ada half-asleep against his shoulder, and he tugged John into a kiss before he could do more than say hello. “Teyla said you have a surprise for me,” he said, between a few more kisses. “And you know how I hate waiting.”
“I know,” John laughed. “Here, trade you.”
He shrugged off his pack, taking Ada from Rodney as he passed it over. She giggled and burrowed into the fleece lining of his coat. “Smell cold, Daddy,” she said.
“Cold?” Rodney repeated, then opened the pack and breathed, “John.”
“It’s been two years, Rodney,” he said softly. “I wanted to do something special.”
“You did,” his husband assured him. “This is…these are…”
He seemed to run out of words and leaned in to kiss John, long and hard. When they needed air, Rodney pulled away, holding the container up to the light.
“This must have taken you all day,” he said, using his free hand to catch John’s, “and your hands…”
“I’m fine,” said John, lacing their fingers together, “But you’re worth it,” and Rodney kissed him until Ada started giggling between them.
THE END
Current Mood:
blah
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 900
Prompt: mcsheplets challenge 258 ‘luxury’
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Setting: part of my On the Run ‘verse
Summary: Some things are worth the effort.
Lover's Berries
Living alone in the Pegasus Galaxy, not just without resources from Earth but without a planned expedition, meant that some planets they’d once dismissed as primitive or isolated were now important allies.
Like the people of P9X-114, who called themselves the Daiina and lived in a mountainous region of their world that was, apparently, too much trouble for the Wraith to bother with. They were subsistence farmers, who grew something like a potato but with even less taste and a kind of grain that was made into both bread and beer. But at the top of the nearby mountain - two hours of hiking away and high enough that it had snow year-round - there were thorny bushes that grew fat red berries.
They were about the size of an American dime, not that John had any spare change to compare them to, and he still hadn’t found the right words to describe the taste. Sweet but not too sweet, with juice so thick it almost wasn’t a liquid anymore, wrapped in skin that seemed to dissolve on the tongue.
Since they’d discovered a semi-functional stasis pod that worked pretty well as a fridge/freezer, John and Rodney had been trading with the Daiina for foodstuffs to supplement their rapidly-dwindling supply of MREs. They’d never have been able to spare enough for the entire expedition, when they were in Atlantis, but could easily trade bread, cheese and meat enough for four adults and a toddler. It had been several visits, improving the Daiia’s irrigation system as payment that they’d heard of the fruit, called Lover’s Berries by the elderly woman who had pressed a single one into each of their palms.
The bushes wouldn’t grow below the mountaintop and it was such a pain to harvest them - the bushes had sharp thorns but the berries were too delicate to pick wearing gloves - that it had become tradition to use them for a marriage proposal or anniversary present, as proof of love and devotion.
Of course, Rodney had loved them instantly, despairing at the four-hour-round-trip to pick them, and even though he’d never mentioned the berries again, John thought about it every time they gated to the planet, every time he looked over at the mountaintop.
And it had been two years since they’d come to Pegasus, two years since Rodney had given up everything for him. John still hadn’t managed to completely wrap his mind around that, to know that he was the single most important person in Rodney’s life - apart from Ada, of course.
So John had woken up early - before dawn on P9X-114 was about three in the morning, their local time - and slipped out of bed, pressing a kiss to Rodney’s temple as he snuffled in his sleep. He met Teyla on the walkway between their cabins and she smiled at him, pausing to touch their foreheads together in the Athosian way.
“Be safe, John,” she said, and let herself into the house.
The Daiina were pleasantly surprised to see him - it was still a few weeks from their regular trading appointment - but when he explained what he wanted, they were happy to help. The trail was easy to follow and the berries easy to find, it was only the distance and the thorns that made them special. Eilia, the woman who’d first given them a taste of the Lover’s Berries, packed him a lunch, settled a hand-knit hat over his head and sent him on his way.
The path was lined with trees, but John’s coat was warm, even as he climbed steadily upward. The trees got smaller as he went, until they disappeared altogether, leaving only the scraggly berry bushes. After about a half-hour, he spotted ones with berries on them and started picking.
It was slow work. The thorns weren’t really sharp enough to cut skin, but they left scratch marks that stung, so every fifteen minutes or so John had to stop to rub his fingers with the anti-itch wipe from his first aid kit. At midday, when he stopped for lunch, he’d half-filled the old scientific sample container he’d brought to carry them, and by the time it was completely full, he had just enough time to walk back to the village before nightfall.
Rodney was waiting for him at their stargate, Ada half-asleep against his shoulder, and he tugged John into a kiss before he could do more than say hello. “Teyla said you have a surprise for me,” he said, between a few more kisses. “And you know how I hate waiting.”
“I know,” John laughed. “Here, trade you.”
He shrugged off his pack, taking Ada from Rodney as he passed it over. She giggled and burrowed into the fleece lining of his coat. “Smell cold, Daddy,” she said.
“Cold?” Rodney repeated, then opened the pack and breathed, “John.”
“It’s been two years, Rodney,” he said softly. “I wanted to do something special.”
“You did,” his husband assured him. “This is…these are…”
He seemed to run out of words and leaned in to kiss John, long and hard. When they needed air, Rodney pulled away, holding the container up to the light.
“This must have taken you all day,” he said, using his free hand to catch John’s, “and your hands…”
“I’m fine,” said John, lacing their fingers together, “But you’re worth it,” and Rodney kissed him until Ada started giggling between them.
THE END
Current Mood:
blah