Fic: Three Faces (SGA)
Title: Three Faces
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Ronon Dex, John Sheppard (implied Ronon/Melena, Ronon/Elizabeth, Ronon/Amelia)
Word Count: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: some language
Prompts:
...stargateland BB: 14/100 points
...Story Cube: sleeping face
...scifiland ILYLP: Repeat
...5_prompts Amnesty in January: fire pic from VRP: Orange
Author's Note: Set sometime after the events of The Prodigal. Not sure if I like it before or after Enemy at the Gate or not. Decide for yourself.
It had been nearly three hours since John had moved. Ronon had been concerned at the two hour mark but now he just figured the guy was asleep. With all this miserable rain keeping them from leaving this cave and nothing to look at but the flickering flames of the fire, he was going slowly crazy. He was a man who needed to be in motion or, at the very least, needed to have a reason for the enforced stillness.
"John?" When he didn't wake up, Ronon changed his tone and modulation before repeating, "John?"
"Yeah."
"We're running out of wood. How 'bout I go get-"
"No." There was no arguing with that tone because the gods knew he'd tried already. All he'd gotten was a Sit down, Ronon. We're not going anywhere until the sun's back up. for his trouble. It was times like this that made him question his loyalty to Atlantis in general and John Sheppard specifically. If he wanted to go out in the rain, he should be able to go. Why did he have to sit still like a naughty little boy?
Still he sat here, like a statue. A statue without feeling in his ass. Well, wasn't that just lovely. With a sigh, he gave up trying to turn this day around and began to search for something to concentrate on that would get him through the rest of the night. Counting pebbles on the cave floor? Too tedious. Naming the stars that his Grandmother had pointed out to him in the night sky of his childhood? That would only make him want to be outside with even more fervor.
His stomach growled. Not a good sign. No wonder he was grouchy. They'd eaten the last of their food hours ago and there would be no more until they were able to get back to Atlantis. With a frustrated grumble, he kicked at the rocks of the fire ring that were closest to him. All he got for his tantrum was a rain of sparks onto his leg. A blackened stick rolled free, giving him an idea.
It had been sometime since he'd drawn anything. He told himself it was because time and supplies were scarce but this was an activity that reminded him of his old life. A life before the war and even, if possible, before Melena. He'd been a boy the first time he'd picked up a pencil to use it as a sketching tool.
The first line was unsteady as he grew accustomed to the feel of the stick in his hand. Both the second and third attempt were scuffed out just as the first had been. This fourth try was turning into something he hadn't intended when he started. Melena's eyes looked up at him, turned up as if there was a smile hidden under the dirt on the floor of the cave. He'd spent hours drawing these same eyes on every surface he could get his hands on. It was as if no time at all had passed since the last time his hands had created this picture. Since he'd seen the real thing. I still love you, Melena. I always will.
It was a struggle to erase the lines, as if he might be erasing the real Melena. His next picture was different although the subject matter was the same. A pair of eyes looked up at him, their shape different but just as full of intelligence. Elizabeth. He'd only just gotten to know her before she was taken away from him. A life snuffed out before it's time. You deserved more, Elizabeth. So much more. I think I could have loved you if we'd only had more of a chance together.
He didn't want to draw eyes. They hurt too much. Instead, this time he concentrated on something else that he enjoyed. A pair of lips came out easily from under his makeshift pencil, frozen between a smirk and a smile. This was his current obsession, a white-hot heat shooting through him as he thought about the woman who wore this expression. Interestingly enough, he hadn't noticed her eyes first which was odd because he normally noticed them right away. With Amelia, it had been her smile that he'd seen straight off, an expression that told him right off that she was no one to be toyed with. She wasn't playing with him or begging for his affections. If you want me, come get me that smile told him. He was enjoying the chase but damn if he wasn't looking forward to the end of these games and a soft bed with rumpled sheets and her body under his. Or above his. He would take anything that got him inside her.
Melena. Elizabeth. Amelia. All strong women who had stolen his heart. It was amazing, with all he'd gone through, that he still had a heart to give but he'd had no problem presenting it to Amelia after that first encounter. Her smile had sealed the deal. This one he would keep for all times.
John opened one eye. "Would you quiet down, already. I can hear you thinking from here. We'll be back soon enough."
"What?" Ronon set the branch down, wondering if Sheppard had gotten some new alien bug in his system that gave him the ability to read minds. It was bad enough when it happened to Rodney.
"You're mooning. Over that girl. What's her name? Amy?"
"Amelia. Like you don't know." He had to steel himself to say the name without emotion. This was the first time he'd said her name out loud to anyone and he wasn't about to mess up the moment by mooning over her like Rodney did with all his women that he fell in and out of love with on a regular basis.
The light from the fire highlighted John's knowing smile. "Amelia. Right. Just checking that you knew her name. I figured you must be sketching her because you keep sighing."
He hadn't had any idea that he'd been making any noises but he'd been concentrating on the memories and not how he was processing them. Let John think he was busy mooning over Amelia. It would make the explanations so much easier. "Yeah," he finally said. "And you were snoring."
"And how's that working out for you?"
The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his love life. Or, right now, his "hopefully hoping this ends up somewhere soon" life. Not with John Sheppard. The man was a closed book about his romances, refusing to discuss who he spent time with. The fact that he did have a love life was evident by the spring in his step from time to time but the "who" was still a mystery. If he was going to keep everything close to the chest, Ronon was going to do the same. He erased the picture with the side of his hand before throwing the stick back into the fire and leaning back against the cave wall.
"If I'd known that was going to shut you up, I would have brought the girl up a long time ago." John changed positions so his weight was on his opposite side before opening one eye. "By all means, ignore me."
Once again, Sheppard had gotten exactly what he wanted. Nothing galled Ronon more than falling for that ruse. Two could play at this game. "Have you ever seen Amelia fight? It's a thing of beauty." With a smirk, Ronon decided that two could play at this game. He had enough ammunition to last through this storm and the one next to it. He was, if nothing else, a person who watched the people around him and this particular person was one he'd been watching a lot of lately.
After fifteen minutes, John put his hands over his ears. "It's going good. I got that loud and clear. Now can I get back to sleep?"
Ronon settled back, suddenly tired himself. He hadn't said that many words at one time in... forever. It had felt good, though, both showing up John and getting to talk about Amelia. While he wasn't going to make a habit of it, he had worked off enough energy that he figured he could get some sleep now himself. Maybe have a few nice dreams. Now that was a way to wait out a storm.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Ronon Dex, John Sheppard (implied Ronon/Melena, Ronon/Elizabeth, Ronon/Amelia)
Word Count: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: some language
Prompts:
...stargateland BB: 14/100 points
...Story Cube: sleeping face
...scifiland ILYLP: Repeat
...5_prompts Amnesty in January: fire pic from VRP: Orange
Author's Note: Set sometime after the events of The Prodigal. Not sure if I like it before or after Enemy at the Gate or not. Decide for yourself.
It had been nearly three hours since John had moved. Ronon had been concerned at the two hour mark but now he just figured the guy was asleep. With all this miserable rain keeping them from leaving this cave and nothing to look at but the flickering flames of the fire, he was going slowly crazy. He was a man who needed to be in motion or, at the very least, needed to have a reason for the enforced stillness.
"John?" When he didn't wake up, Ronon changed his tone and modulation before repeating, "John?"
"Yeah."
"We're running out of wood. How 'bout I go get-"
"No." There was no arguing with that tone because the gods knew he'd tried already. All he'd gotten was a Sit down, Ronon. We're not going anywhere until the sun's back up. for his trouble. It was times like this that made him question his loyalty to Atlantis in general and John Sheppard specifically. If he wanted to go out in the rain, he should be able to go. Why did he have to sit still like a naughty little boy?
Still he sat here, like a statue. A statue without feeling in his ass. Well, wasn't that just lovely. With a sigh, he gave up trying to turn this day around and began to search for something to concentrate on that would get him through the rest of the night. Counting pebbles on the cave floor? Too tedious. Naming the stars that his Grandmother had pointed out to him in the night sky of his childhood? That would only make him want to be outside with even more fervor.
His stomach growled. Not a good sign. No wonder he was grouchy. They'd eaten the last of their food hours ago and there would be no more until they were able to get back to Atlantis. With a frustrated grumble, he kicked at the rocks of the fire ring that were closest to him. All he got for his tantrum was a rain of sparks onto his leg. A blackened stick rolled free, giving him an idea.
It had been sometime since he'd drawn anything. He told himself it was because time and supplies were scarce but this was an activity that reminded him of his old life. A life before the war and even, if possible, before Melena. He'd been a boy the first time he'd picked up a pencil to use it as a sketching tool.
The first line was unsteady as he grew accustomed to the feel of the stick in his hand. Both the second and third attempt were scuffed out just as the first had been. This fourth try was turning into something he hadn't intended when he started. Melena's eyes looked up at him, turned up as if there was a smile hidden under the dirt on the floor of the cave. He'd spent hours drawing these same eyes on every surface he could get his hands on. It was as if no time at all had passed since the last time his hands had created this picture. Since he'd seen the real thing. I still love you, Melena. I always will.
It was a struggle to erase the lines, as if he might be erasing the real Melena. His next picture was different although the subject matter was the same. A pair of eyes looked up at him, their shape different but just as full of intelligence. Elizabeth. He'd only just gotten to know her before she was taken away from him. A life snuffed out before it's time. You deserved more, Elizabeth. So much more. I think I could have loved you if we'd only had more of a chance together.
He didn't want to draw eyes. They hurt too much. Instead, this time he concentrated on something else that he enjoyed. A pair of lips came out easily from under his makeshift pencil, frozen between a smirk and a smile. This was his current obsession, a white-hot heat shooting through him as he thought about the woman who wore this expression. Interestingly enough, he hadn't noticed her eyes first which was odd because he normally noticed them right away. With Amelia, it had been her smile that he'd seen straight off, an expression that told him right off that she was no one to be toyed with. She wasn't playing with him or begging for his affections. If you want me, come get me that smile told him. He was enjoying the chase but damn if he wasn't looking forward to the end of these games and a soft bed with rumpled sheets and her body under his. Or above his. He would take anything that got him inside her.
Melena. Elizabeth. Amelia. All strong women who had stolen his heart. It was amazing, with all he'd gone through, that he still had a heart to give but he'd had no problem presenting it to Amelia after that first encounter. Her smile had sealed the deal. This one he would keep for all times.
John opened one eye. "Would you quiet down, already. I can hear you thinking from here. We'll be back soon enough."
"What?" Ronon set the branch down, wondering if Sheppard had gotten some new alien bug in his system that gave him the ability to read minds. It was bad enough when it happened to Rodney.
"You're mooning. Over that girl. What's her name? Amy?"
"Amelia. Like you don't know." He had to steel himself to say the name without emotion. This was the first time he'd said her name out loud to anyone and he wasn't about to mess up the moment by mooning over her like Rodney did with all his women that he fell in and out of love with on a regular basis.
The light from the fire highlighted John's knowing smile. "Amelia. Right. Just checking that you knew her name. I figured you must be sketching her because you keep sighing."
He hadn't had any idea that he'd been making any noises but he'd been concentrating on the memories and not how he was processing them. Let John think he was busy mooning over Amelia. It would make the explanations so much easier. "Yeah," he finally said. "And you were snoring."
"And how's that working out for you?"
The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his love life. Or, right now, his "hopefully hoping this ends up somewhere soon" life. Not with John Sheppard. The man was a closed book about his romances, refusing to discuss who he spent time with. The fact that he did have a love life was evident by the spring in his step from time to time but the "who" was still a mystery. If he was going to keep everything close to the chest, Ronon was going to do the same. He erased the picture with the side of his hand before throwing the stick back into the fire and leaning back against the cave wall.
"If I'd known that was going to shut you up, I would have brought the girl up a long time ago." John changed positions so his weight was on his opposite side before opening one eye. "By all means, ignore me."
Once again, Sheppard had gotten exactly what he wanted. Nothing galled Ronon more than falling for that ruse. Two could play at this game. "Have you ever seen Amelia fight? It's a thing of beauty." With a smirk, Ronon decided that two could play at this game. He had enough ammunition to last through this storm and the one next to it. He was, if nothing else, a person who watched the people around him and this particular person was one he'd been watching a lot of lately.
After fifteen minutes, John put his hands over his ears. "It's going good. I got that loud and clear. Now can I get back to sleep?"
Ronon settled back, suddenly tired himself. He hadn't said that many words at one time in... forever. It had felt good, though, both showing up John and getting to talk about Amelia. While he wasn't going to make a habit of it, he had worked off enough energy that he figured he could get some sleep now himself. Maybe have a few nice dreams. Now that was a way to wait out a storm.