TEAM FINE: wish list, "Here's to Hoping"
Title: Here's to Hoping
Author: roaringmice
Team: Fine
Prompt: wish list
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word count: 1078
Summary: John hates the stupid Wraith.
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**
John shivered. Rain pooled around his feet, and yet he sat on the ground anyway. He was soaked, despite the protection of the rocky outcrop. He sniffed, the scent of damp and moss, then sneezed. He hated being cold and miserable, and this planet, so far, had been nothing but. He leaned back against the damp rock, feeling the cold despite the weight of his jacket and the body heat of the man huddled beside him in their tiny space. Then, as if to add insult to injury, he heard the Wraith ships screeching by overhead. Again. They had to wait out the Wraith before they could get back to the Gate. Again. It seemed like no matter where they went, the Wraith would eventually show up. Again. “I hate the stupid Wraith,” he added aloud.
John watched as Rodney, seemingly oblivious to the rain flowing past the opening of their tiny shelter, took out a small notebook and pencil, wrote maybe two words in the book, and then slipped it back into the inner pocket of his jacket.
Seeing John’s quizzical expression, Rodney said, “Just adding that one to my ‘wish list’.”
Which one? John wondered. But aloud, he said, “That’s… oddly sentimental of you.”
“The Wraith?” Rodney asked, clearly puzzled.
“No…” John drawled. “The wish list.”
Rodney nudged him with a shoulder. “You wouldn’t think that if you saw some of the stuff I have in there. Look. C’mere,” Rodney said needlessly, with John crammed right next to him. Rodney tugged out the tiny book again. “I’ve got stuff in here like…” Rodney flipped back a few pages. “Win the Nobel in physics.” He flipped back again. “Beat Teyla in a sparring match.” He looked up through damp lashes. “Admittedly, some of this stuff is more realistic than other things.”
John wondered which of those two Rodney considered realistic, decided it couldn’t possibly be beating Teyla, and moved on.
“Um,” Rodney flipped pages again. He put a hand over the page. “Ah, erm… no. Some of this stuff’s private.”
“You have a wish list,” John said, deadpan. “With secrets in it. How… thirteen-year-old girl of you.”
Rodney actually blushed. “Listen, my sister gave me this stupid book, and told me to write in it, so what was I going to do? Stupid book is only, what… two inches tall?” he said, hands flying in the small space. “And that’s just stupid. What am I supposed to do with a two inch tall book? Not like I can use it for calculations or anything. So I started using it as a “to do” list, and then it just kind of expanded. It’s a good way to remember stuff. And not all of my goals are so… I mean, look at this one…”
“Apologize when someone points out that you’ve been an insufferable ass,” John read aloud. “I could see how you might find that one useful.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Rodney said, obviously not meaning it. He returned the book to its pocket. “You can’t tell me you don’t have any goals or…” He made a vague, circular motion with his hand, “…Anything.”
“I do, I guess,” John said with a shrug. “Never really thought of them as a “wish list”, but I guess they are, yeah.”
“Such as…?”
John thought a moment. “Meet someone and, I guess… live a happy life. Retire from the military rather than the whole ‘Wraith sucks the life out of you’ thing.”
Rodney nodded. “That would be nice,” he said, with only a hint of sarcasm.
“Wouldn’t mind beating Teyla at least once.”
“Figured you’d say Ronon,” Rodney replied.
“Teyla’s tougher.”
John watched Rodney stare out at the rain. “So, you ever meet someone special, like you wanted?” Rodney asked after a moment.
“I did.” John hesitated before saying the next bit. “Thought so, anyway.” He exhaled, then said, “Didn’t work out. You?”
“Yeah. Didn’t work out.” Rodney glanced at him. “That’s where the ‘apologize for being an insufferable ass’ idea came from.” Rodney’s eyebrow rose. “Anyone here you’d… you know?”
“Here?” John asked, waving out at the rain and pretending confusion, knowing that doing so would wind Rodney up.
“Not here, here,” Rodney said, pointing, exasperated, to the opening of their shelter. “Here, Atlantis, here.”
John shook his head, even though he knew Rodney wasn’t looking at him. “Half the people are under my direct chain of command, so no.”
“How about someone who isn’t military?”
“This situation isn’t exactly conducive to that type of stuff.” John winced. “And three quarters of the people here are male.”
“Yeah, and the rest are too smart to date either one of us,” Rodney said with a laugh.
The rain fell, sending little splashes up from the puddles just outside the opening. John realized that they hadn’t heard a Wraith ship in a while. Maybe in a bit, they might be able to make a dash for the Gate, get out of here, get back to Atlantis, where they could dry off.
“You wouldn’t date a guy?” Rodney asked, softly.
John stiffened, nearly coming to attention despite being seated. “You’re not supposed to ask me that.”
“Come on, I’m not military. I’m not even American.” Rodney peered at him from the corner of his eye, and in a massively awful fake French accent, said, “Your rules, they do not apply to me.”
“Yeah, well,” John said, tension ratcheting down a notch. “Your accent is crap.”
“Thank you. I try.” Rodney took out his book and noted something.
“What’d you just write?” John asked.
Rodney turned to the page, which now said, “No Wraith”. “I like that one. Haven’t heard a ship in a while.”
John nodded. “Here’s to hoping.”
“You know, there are things I really hate about the US,” Rodney said, seemingly out of nowhere. “And that’s one of them.
“Which… that?” John said, his confusion genuine this time.
“That whole, ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy. It’s idiotic.” He pulled out the book and scribbled something in it. “There,” he said, self-satisfied. He held the book out.
John leaned in close to see. “REPEAL DADT” in all caps, and underlined.
“I like that one,” John said after a while, very quietly.
Rodney nudged his shoulder again, and this time, didn’t move away. “Here’s to hoping.”
**
Poll
Author: roaringmice
Team: Fine
Prompt: wish list
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word count: 1078
Summary: John hates the stupid Wraith.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
John shivered. Rain pooled around his feet, and yet he sat on the ground anyway. He was soaked, despite the protection of the rocky outcrop. He sniffed, the scent of damp and moss, then sneezed. He hated being cold and miserable, and this planet, so far, had been nothing but. He leaned back against the damp rock, feeling the cold despite the weight of his jacket and the body heat of the man huddled beside him in their tiny space. Then, as if to add insult to injury, he heard the Wraith ships screeching by overhead. Again. They had to wait out the Wraith before they could get back to the Gate. Again. It seemed like no matter where they went, the Wraith would eventually show up. Again. “I hate the stupid Wraith,” he added aloud.
John watched as Rodney, seemingly oblivious to the rain flowing past the opening of their tiny shelter, took out a small notebook and pencil, wrote maybe two words in the book, and then slipped it back into the inner pocket of his jacket.
Seeing John’s quizzical expression, Rodney said, “Just adding that one to my ‘wish list’.”
Which one? John wondered. But aloud, he said, “That’s… oddly sentimental of you.”
“The Wraith?” Rodney asked, clearly puzzled.
“No…” John drawled. “The wish list.”
Rodney nudged him with a shoulder. “You wouldn’t think that if you saw some of the stuff I have in there. Look. C’mere,” Rodney said needlessly, with John crammed right next to him. Rodney tugged out the tiny book again. “I’ve got stuff in here like…” Rodney flipped back a few pages. “Win the Nobel in physics.” He flipped back again. “Beat Teyla in a sparring match.” He looked up through damp lashes. “Admittedly, some of this stuff is more realistic than other things.”
John wondered which of those two Rodney considered realistic, decided it couldn’t possibly be beating Teyla, and moved on.
“Um,” Rodney flipped pages again. He put a hand over the page. “Ah, erm… no. Some of this stuff’s private.”
“You have a wish list,” John said, deadpan. “With secrets in it. How… thirteen-year-old girl of you.”
Rodney actually blushed. “Listen, my sister gave me this stupid book, and told me to write in it, so what was I going to do? Stupid book is only, what… two inches tall?” he said, hands flying in the small space. “And that’s just stupid. What am I supposed to do with a two inch tall book? Not like I can use it for calculations or anything. So I started using it as a “to do” list, and then it just kind of expanded. It’s a good way to remember stuff. And not all of my goals are so… I mean, look at this one…”
“Apologize when someone points out that you’ve been an insufferable ass,” John read aloud. “I could see how you might find that one useful.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Rodney said, obviously not meaning it. He returned the book to its pocket. “You can’t tell me you don’t have any goals or…” He made a vague, circular motion with his hand, “…Anything.”
“I do, I guess,” John said with a shrug. “Never really thought of them as a “wish list”, but I guess they are, yeah.”
“Such as…?”
John thought a moment. “Meet someone and, I guess… live a happy life. Retire from the military rather than the whole ‘Wraith sucks the life out of you’ thing.”
Rodney nodded. “That would be nice,” he said, with only a hint of sarcasm.
“Wouldn’t mind beating Teyla at least once.”
“Figured you’d say Ronon,” Rodney replied.
“Teyla’s tougher.”
John watched Rodney stare out at the rain. “So, you ever meet someone special, like you wanted?” Rodney asked after a moment.
“I did.” John hesitated before saying the next bit. “Thought so, anyway.” He exhaled, then said, “Didn’t work out. You?”
“Yeah. Didn’t work out.” Rodney glanced at him. “That’s where the ‘apologize for being an insufferable ass’ idea came from.” Rodney’s eyebrow rose. “Anyone here you’d… you know?”
“Here?” John asked, waving out at the rain and pretending confusion, knowing that doing so would wind Rodney up.
“Not here, here,” Rodney said, pointing, exasperated, to the opening of their shelter. “Here, Atlantis, here.”
John shook his head, even though he knew Rodney wasn’t looking at him. “Half the people are under my direct chain of command, so no.”
“How about someone who isn’t military?”
“This situation isn’t exactly conducive to that type of stuff.” John winced. “And three quarters of the people here are male.”
“Yeah, and the rest are too smart to date either one of us,” Rodney said with a laugh.
The rain fell, sending little splashes up from the puddles just outside the opening. John realized that they hadn’t heard a Wraith ship in a while. Maybe in a bit, they might be able to make a dash for the Gate, get out of here, get back to Atlantis, where they could dry off.
“You wouldn’t date a guy?” Rodney asked, softly.
John stiffened, nearly coming to attention despite being seated. “You’re not supposed to ask me that.”
“Come on, I’m not military. I’m not even American.” Rodney peered at him from the corner of his eye, and in a massively awful fake French accent, said, “Your rules, they do not apply to me.”
“Yeah, well,” John said, tension ratcheting down a notch. “Your accent is crap.”
“Thank you. I try.” Rodney took out his book and noted something.
“What’d you just write?” John asked.
Rodney turned to the page, which now said, “No Wraith”. “I like that one. Haven’t heard a ship in a while.”
John nodded. “Here’s to hoping.”
“You know, there are things I really hate about the US,” Rodney said, seemingly out of nowhere. “And that’s one of them.
“Which… that?” John said, his confusion genuine this time.
“That whole, ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy. It’s idiotic.” He pulled out the book and scribbled something in it. “There,” he said, self-satisfied. He held the book out.
John leaned in close to see. “REPEAL DADT” in all caps, and underlined.
“I like that one,” John said after a while, very quietly.
Rodney nudged his shoulder again, and this time, didn’t move away. “Here’s to hoping.”
**
Poll