SGA - Triptych: 'Twined
Trio Triptych
Three short stories focusing on the aftermath of the SGA episode “Trio”.
- Duo (McKay and Sheppard) Slash
- ‘Twined (Keller and Ronon) Het
- Double (Sam and Teyla) Femslash that’s more Friendship than Slash
Rating: PG-13 (all)
Synopsis: They are not alone. AKA the Trio becomes a Sextet.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they belong to people with far more money than me. I am only borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
‘Twined - Keller and Ronon
~~~~~~~~~~
Keller had one more Leinies with the Marines after she sent McKay off to his quarters before cutting herself off. She knew her limits enough to know she could probably handle more, but also knew in excruciating detail the effects of moderate dehydration, acute physical exertion, and bloodloss on the human body. Mix that with alcohol, and she was looking at Aleve and a gallon of water before bed.
She stopped by the infirmary on the way to her quarters, grateful Tony was on duty and understood the need for the mild drug. The damage to her own hands was not as severe as Rodney’s, so she could not justify requesting anything stronger, not to mention the fact she brought any hangover on herself at this point. He handed her a liter bottle of water with a mock scolding look, making her promise to drink at least that much before the night was through. She had finished half of that by the time she got to her room, silently musing on how much more her muscles would be hurting if it wasn’t for the near daily exercise routine she had started with Ronon after the disastrous trip to New Athos.
Speaking of the devil, she was not at all surprised to see him waiting for her just across the hall from her door. He seemed to be staring at one of the potted plants with something between a near Zen state, and murderous intent.
“Hey there, sailor, come here often?” she said by way of greeting. She took another swig of water as she watched him puzzle out what she said. Deciding to go easy on him, she explained, “It’s a joke, kind of like a greeting, but from a movie.”
His face cleared and he nodded. Movies he got. With as many as Sheppard and the Marines seemed to be forcing on him, it was no wonder. She palmed open her door and stepped through, turning around to see him still standing in the same place, propping up the wall.
She gestured to her room, and he shook his head. “I, uh, just stopped by to make sure you were okay,” he said, looking almost embarrassed.
“Come on in,” she offered. He took a couple steps forward, but hesitated again at the threshold, reminding her again that he was from a different culture and that maybe he didn’t think it was proper or right. “It’s okay,” she assured him, taking another step back. This time he followed.
The door closed behind him, but he didn’t move much further into the room. She sighed, taking her victories where she could get them. “With everything that happened, I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” he offered.
That he knew all three came back injured was not a newsflash. He had been waiting in the gateroom when they arrived, swooping in to gather Colonel Carter from them and lifting her up onto the gurney when it came. She knew he had followed them to the infirmary after that, but had disappeared somewhere along the way, the process of cleaning and debriding their wounds taking quite some time with all the little rope filaments embedded in their skin, not to mention checking on Sam to make sure she was okay.
“I’m fine,” she promised. Seeing his doubting look, she clarified, “I’m a bit sore and have some decent rope burn on my hands, but I’m going to be okay.”
He nodded, and the little lines of worry around his eyes lessened a bit. His head tilted slightly to the side and she swore his nostrils flared a bit before he asked, “Were you drinking?” The tone was tinged a bit with disbelief and bit with something else she was having trouble identifying.
“I was at the bar with McKay,” she shrugged in reply, taking another drink of her water. There it was, the thing she couldn’t identify in his voice, but saw clearly in his eyes: hurt. “No, it was nothing like that,” she rushed to assure him. “I proved something to him and bet him a beer about it. Well, technically he didn’t take the bet, but I talked him into it as a ‘hey, we survived’ sort of thing.”
She watched the range of emotions play across his face. The narrowed eyes to the raised eyebrows to the full out smile. “You got McKay drunk?” he asked approvingly.
“That would be unethical,” she said with mock solemnity. Grinning into her bottle, she added, “I did, however, get him to drink just enough that he should sleep really well tonight.” She didn’t mention the fact it was also her way of guaranteeing he had at least one full night’s sleep before the nightmares kicked in, figuring to bring that up would only emphasize her own.
Ronon must have picked up on it though, or simply knew his teammate well and factored in her experience. The smile faded as he said, “He saved you.”
She nodded, setting the now empty bottle down on her bedside table. “Yes, he did,” she agreed. She sat down on her bed, feeling her legs get a bit unsteady from the memories of falling, of catching, of looking down into the chasm below. “If he hadn’t have caught me...”
Ronon was at her side before she could pretend the moisture in her eyes was simply from being tired. “But he did,” he pointed out, crouched beside her. His hand snaked out and rested on her knee and she covered it with her bandaged own.
“Yeah, he did,” she agreed, blinking back some less than wanted tears. She dared to look over at him and saw not ridicule at her weakness, but understanding instead. “I was so scared,” she admitted in a small voice. “I hate heights, always have, and I was stuck, swinging on a rope over something so deep I couldn’t even see the bottom.” Her breath hitched and she fought the memories trying to assert themselves, trying to push them away and focus on the man before her here and now, not on the events of the past day.
Ronon shifted, somehow managing to not remove his hand, but still sit beside her, letting her lean against his bulk. It was steadying and safe, somehow, making it all the more real when he whispered, “You did it. You held on and you got to safety and you got home.”
She nodded, not quite trusting her voice. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself in his warmth, to lose herself in his dreds and leather and strength. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, letting her fit her head in the little niche between his neck and shoulder and breathe deep.
“This is not going to help my case for going offworld on missions, is it?” she mused.
She felt the rumble in his chest before it bubbled up into laughter. She pressed her injured hand against it, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong and full of life. “No, it’s really not,” he agreed, pulling back slightly to kiss her forehead before settling her against him once more. “At least not without me,” he reluctantly amended, stroking her hair.
She let her eyes drift closed as she smiled. Surprisingly, she was okay with that.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Three short stories focusing on the aftermath of the SGA episode “Trio”.
- Duo (McKay and Sheppard) Slash
- ‘Twined (Keller and Ronon) Het
- Double (Sam and Teyla) Femslash that’s more Friendship than Slash
Rating: PG-13 (all)
Synopsis: They are not alone. AKA the Trio becomes a Sextet.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they belong to people with far more money than me. I am only borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
‘Twined - Keller and Ronon
~~~~~~~~~~
Keller had one more Leinies with the Marines after she sent McKay off to his quarters before cutting herself off. She knew her limits enough to know she could probably handle more, but also knew in excruciating detail the effects of moderate dehydration, acute physical exertion, and bloodloss on the human body. Mix that with alcohol, and she was looking at Aleve and a gallon of water before bed.
She stopped by the infirmary on the way to her quarters, grateful Tony was on duty and understood the need for the mild drug. The damage to her own hands was not as severe as Rodney’s, so she could not justify requesting anything stronger, not to mention the fact she brought any hangover on herself at this point. He handed her a liter bottle of water with a mock scolding look, making her promise to drink at least that much before the night was through. She had finished half of that by the time she got to her room, silently musing on how much more her muscles would be hurting if it wasn’t for the near daily exercise routine she had started with Ronon after the disastrous trip to New Athos.
Speaking of the devil, she was not at all surprised to see him waiting for her just across the hall from her door. He seemed to be staring at one of the potted plants with something between a near Zen state, and murderous intent.
“Hey there, sailor, come here often?” she said by way of greeting. She took another swig of water as she watched him puzzle out what she said. Deciding to go easy on him, she explained, “It’s a joke, kind of like a greeting, but from a movie.”
His face cleared and he nodded. Movies he got. With as many as Sheppard and the Marines seemed to be forcing on him, it was no wonder. She palmed open her door and stepped through, turning around to see him still standing in the same place, propping up the wall.
She gestured to her room, and he shook his head. “I, uh, just stopped by to make sure you were okay,” he said, looking almost embarrassed.
“Come on in,” she offered. He took a couple steps forward, but hesitated again at the threshold, reminding her again that he was from a different culture and that maybe he didn’t think it was proper or right. “It’s okay,” she assured him, taking another step back. This time he followed.
The door closed behind him, but he didn’t move much further into the room. She sighed, taking her victories where she could get them. “With everything that happened, I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” he offered.
That he knew all three came back injured was not a newsflash. He had been waiting in the gateroom when they arrived, swooping in to gather Colonel Carter from them and lifting her up onto the gurney when it came. She knew he had followed them to the infirmary after that, but had disappeared somewhere along the way, the process of cleaning and debriding their wounds taking quite some time with all the little rope filaments embedded in their skin, not to mention checking on Sam to make sure she was okay.
“I’m fine,” she promised. Seeing his doubting look, she clarified, “I’m a bit sore and have some decent rope burn on my hands, but I’m going to be okay.”
He nodded, and the little lines of worry around his eyes lessened a bit. His head tilted slightly to the side and she swore his nostrils flared a bit before he asked, “Were you drinking?” The tone was tinged a bit with disbelief and bit with something else she was having trouble identifying.
“I was at the bar with McKay,” she shrugged in reply, taking another drink of her water. There it was, the thing she couldn’t identify in his voice, but saw clearly in his eyes: hurt. “No, it was nothing like that,” she rushed to assure him. “I proved something to him and bet him a beer about it. Well, technically he didn’t take the bet, but I talked him into it as a ‘hey, we survived’ sort of thing.”
She watched the range of emotions play across his face. The narrowed eyes to the raised eyebrows to the full out smile. “You got McKay drunk?” he asked approvingly.
“That would be unethical,” she said with mock solemnity. Grinning into her bottle, she added, “I did, however, get him to drink just enough that he should sleep really well tonight.” She didn’t mention the fact it was also her way of guaranteeing he had at least one full night’s sleep before the nightmares kicked in, figuring to bring that up would only emphasize her own.
Ronon must have picked up on it though, or simply knew his teammate well and factored in her experience. The smile faded as he said, “He saved you.”
She nodded, setting the now empty bottle down on her bedside table. “Yes, he did,” she agreed. She sat down on her bed, feeling her legs get a bit unsteady from the memories of falling, of catching, of looking down into the chasm below. “If he hadn’t have caught me...”
Ronon was at her side before she could pretend the moisture in her eyes was simply from being tired. “But he did,” he pointed out, crouched beside her. His hand snaked out and rested on her knee and she covered it with her bandaged own.
“Yeah, he did,” she agreed, blinking back some less than wanted tears. She dared to look over at him and saw not ridicule at her weakness, but understanding instead. “I was so scared,” she admitted in a small voice. “I hate heights, always have, and I was stuck, swinging on a rope over something so deep I couldn’t even see the bottom.” Her breath hitched and she fought the memories trying to assert themselves, trying to push them away and focus on the man before her here and now, not on the events of the past day.
Ronon shifted, somehow managing to not remove his hand, but still sit beside her, letting her lean against his bulk. It was steadying and safe, somehow, making it all the more real when he whispered, “You did it. You held on and you got to safety and you got home.”
She nodded, not quite trusting her voice. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself in his warmth, to lose herself in his dreds and leather and strength. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, letting her fit her head in the little niche between his neck and shoulder and breathe deep.
“This is not going to help my case for going offworld on missions, is it?” she mused.
She felt the rumble in his chest before it bubbled up into laughter. She pressed her injured hand against it, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong and full of life. “No, it’s really not,” he agreed, pulling back slightly to kiss her forehead before settling her against him once more. “At least not without me,” he reluctantly amended, stroking her hair.
She let her eyes drift closed as she smiled. Surprisingly, she was okay with that.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.