Happy Birthday Bluespirit!
Today is bluespirit_star’s birthday, so celebrations are once again in order! *throws more confetti* I hope you have a lovely day and a wonderful holiday, sweetheart! *hugs*
Title: Safe
Author: the_cephalopod
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1500
Author’s Notes: A little established-relationship story written for the lovely bluespirit_star for her birthday. Following her practice of taking inspiration from country music, the title for this piece is from Martina McBride’s wonderful song Safe in the Arms of Love.
Acknowledgements: My thanks to the utterly awesome sgamadison for the beta.
Safe
For Bluespirit
When the Feynman diagrams on the page in front of him begin to spiral in a rather disconcerting manner, the photon paths elongating so that they wiggle across the entire length and breadth of the page, Rodney decides that he’s probably done enough work for the day. He backs up his latest set of diagrams and then snaps the lid of his laptop shut, lifting a hand to rub his eyes as he does so in an effort to erase the images of his calculations which seem to have burnt themselves onto his retinas.
He slowly gets to his feet and, bracing both his hands against his lower back, leans backwards to stretch out his cramping muscles. He hears his back crack sharply with the motion and feels a bright flash of pain before the area finally relaxes. In his mind’s eye, he can see Teyla shaking her head at him and hears her berating him for the poor treatment of his body. It has been a week since his last session with her in the Atlantis dojo and Rodney knows from her increasingly pointed comments at breakfast that she’ll be hunting him down before long and dragging him back in there by force if he misses another one of their sessions. He smiles at the thought - both pleased and still a little surprised that he could engender such a caring response. Not that this means he actually enjoys the bantos sessions or anything, of course.
A quick glance at the clock shows that it is nearing eight in the evening. Despite the lateness of the hour, there is still a fair amount of daylight coming in through the large picture windows that along run almost the entire length of Rodney’s quarters. He wanders over from his desk to stare out across the city and to the ocean beyond. The long summer days on Atlantis are something Rodney has always loved, judging them to be certainly worth the price of the long winter nights that go along with the city’s high latitude. Tonight, however, rather than the bright sunshine of earlier in the week, the daylight is filtered through a thick grey layer of cloud. Rodney shudders a little at the sight - it looks like a storm is coming.
As soon as the thought crosses his mind, the weather responds as if by command and heavy drops of rain start to fall. Rodney watches as the downpour increases steadily over the next few minutes until the rain is coming down in seemingly endless cascading sheets. The sound of it beating against his windowsill elicits a strange mixture of emotions in Rodney. From a very young age, he has always loved the rain - he’d always found something inherently comforting about being all dry and cosy when outside he could hear the discord of nature. He’d been a solitary child - isolated from his peers by both his intelligence and his sharp tongue - and had found his own amusement in the books which had slowly revealed to him the secrets of world around him. Even once he’d grasped the concepts of cloud formation and atmospheric pressure, his innate emotional response the actual experience of rain, or rather of being protected from it, had never left him. As he’d grown and learned first hand of the knocks that life could bring, part of him still luxuriated in the sense of safety to be found watching the wind gust and the rain fall from inside the protected comfort of wherever his research had happened to have taken him. Of course, in Siberia and Antarctica it had been snowflakes rather than raindrops, but the same principle had applied and Rodney, alone with his formulae, had always found a small measure of solace from the experience.
But Pegasus has managed to change that, as it has so many things in Rodney’s life. Now rain has very different associations for him. Watching it fall no longer conjures feelings of safety; instead it brings to mind the stench of fear, the sour taste of failure and the eerily painless sensation of the sharp blade of a knife. Rodney feels his breathing speed up and notices that he’s cradling his left arm protectively against his chest. He takes a deep breath and forces his arm back down to his side, trying to relax despite his mounting tension.
“Hey, buddy,” a voice sounds from the doorway.
“Hey,” Rodney mumbles in automatic response, his eyes still focused on the storm before him and his mind still unhappily locked in the past.
The sound of soft footfalls herald John’s approach and Rodney lifts his eyes to look at the reflection of John in the glass. John’s dressed in his black BDUs, complete with thigh holster and black armband, his dog tags clearly visible through the taut material of his t-shirt. He looks sturdy and solid - every inch the soldier; strong, brave and true.
Suddenly a bright bolt of lightening streaks across the sky, its accompanying clap of thunder making Rodney jump. Instantly strong arms come around his body, holding him close, and John’s chin comes to rest on Rodney’s shoulder. Rodney can feel the entire length of John’s body against his own, and he can’t help but lean back slightly into John’s embrace.
“Quite some weather we’re getting,” John says as he links his hands together across Rodney’s middle. “You doin’ alright?”
Rodney closes his eyes as the warmth of John’s body starts to seep into him. “Yeah,” he says, opening his eyes once more as he realises that it is true. The rain is still coming down hard and there’s another bolt of lighting and a low rumble of thunder, but now they seem to have lost their power over him.
Things have changed and, perhaps more importantly, he has changed with them. During his time on Atlantis, he’s grown. The struggle for survival has forced him to push himself beyond his natural comfort zone and has meant that he’s had no choice but to open himself up to the new people and the new possibilities Atlantis represents. And therein lies the answer - the principles of physics may be universal, but it’s the people who make the difference.
Moving with deliberate care, Rodney brings his arms up and places his hands over John’s. He then proceeds to move their joined hands up so the rest over the centre of his chest, over his heart. As suddenly as it begun, the weather turns once more; the rain starting to dissipate as the steady downpour becoming a light trickle which quickly fades into a gentle mist. Rays of sunlight start to break through, illuminating the spires of Atlantis and making the crests of the ocean waves sparkle.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” John asks softly and Rodney hums his agreement. They stand there for long moments, still wrapped around each other and watch as the sun finally starts to set, turning their city and her ocean to burnished gold.
“So,” Rodney says, breaking the silence at last. “Dinner?”
John laughs, soft puffs of air gusting into Rodney’s ear, and his arms tighten about Rodney for a moment. “Definitely,” he replies “Besides, I heard a rumor that there’s chocolate cake for dessert and made sure Philips set a couple of pieces aside for us.”
Rodney grins at that, turning in John’s embrace to beam at him. “I knew there was a reason I keep you around,” he replies.
“Well,” John said. “You know me - ace pilot, defender of astrophysicists and protector of all things chocolate.”
“Don’t forget light-switch in chief,” Rodney adds, memories of John painting the spirals of the Milky Way on the ceiling of an Antarctic Ancient outpost flickering briefly before his eyes.
“Yes, how could I ever forget that?” John asks with a fond look as he leans forward to kiss Rodney gently. The kiss is light and soft and Rodney feels a little twirl of joy twist gleefully in his stomach at the touch of John’s lips. His stomach then proceeds to growl in hunger.
John pulls back and cocks an eyebrow. “Okay, so I’m thinking dinner first and then we should come back here and finish this conversation.”
Rodney opens his mouth to respond, but John silences him before he can utter a word by another quick kiss. “Hypoglycemia - I know, I know,” he says as he pulls back and starts steering Rodney towards the door. “Come on then. After all, we wouldn’t want any passing out - manly or otherwise - now would we?”
Rodney rolls his eyes, but otherwise refrains from responding to John’s taunts - reciprocal teasing is, after all, one of the foundations of their relationship, and he already has a variety of imaginative and highly enjoyable ideas about how to exact his revenge.
Yes, he thinks as he and John make their way out into the corridor and start heading towards the commissary. Here, in this galaxy, amongst the Wraith, the Genii, and the countless other threats they’ve yet to encounter, he is finally safe.
~fin~
Title: Safe
Author: the_cephalopod
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1500
Author’s Notes: A little established-relationship story written for the lovely bluespirit_star for her birthday. Following her practice of taking inspiration from country music, the title for this piece is from Martina McBride’s wonderful song Safe in the Arms of Love.
Acknowledgements: My thanks to the utterly awesome sgamadison for the beta.
Safe
For Bluespirit
When the Feynman diagrams on the page in front of him begin to spiral in a rather disconcerting manner, the photon paths elongating so that they wiggle across the entire length and breadth of the page, Rodney decides that he’s probably done enough work for the day. He backs up his latest set of diagrams and then snaps the lid of his laptop shut, lifting a hand to rub his eyes as he does so in an effort to erase the images of his calculations which seem to have burnt themselves onto his retinas.
He slowly gets to his feet and, bracing both his hands against his lower back, leans backwards to stretch out his cramping muscles. He hears his back crack sharply with the motion and feels a bright flash of pain before the area finally relaxes. In his mind’s eye, he can see Teyla shaking her head at him and hears her berating him for the poor treatment of his body. It has been a week since his last session with her in the Atlantis dojo and Rodney knows from her increasingly pointed comments at breakfast that she’ll be hunting him down before long and dragging him back in there by force if he misses another one of their sessions. He smiles at the thought - both pleased and still a little surprised that he could engender such a caring response. Not that this means he actually enjoys the bantos sessions or anything, of course.
A quick glance at the clock shows that it is nearing eight in the evening. Despite the lateness of the hour, there is still a fair amount of daylight coming in through the large picture windows that along run almost the entire length of Rodney’s quarters. He wanders over from his desk to stare out across the city and to the ocean beyond. The long summer days on Atlantis are something Rodney has always loved, judging them to be certainly worth the price of the long winter nights that go along with the city’s high latitude. Tonight, however, rather than the bright sunshine of earlier in the week, the daylight is filtered through a thick grey layer of cloud. Rodney shudders a little at the sight - it looks like a storm is coming.
As soon as the thought crosses his mind, the weather responds as if by command and heavy drops of rain start to fall. Rodney watches as the downpour increases steadily over the next few minutes until the rain is coming down in seemingly endless cascading sheets. The sound of it beating against his windowsill elicits a strange mixture of emotions in Rodney. From a very young age, he has always loved the rain - he’d always found something inherently comforting about being all dry and cosy when outside he could hear the discord of nature. He’d been a solitary child - isolated from his peers by both his intelligence and his sharp tongue - and had found his own amusement in the books which had slowly revealed to him the secrets of world around him. Even once he’d grasped the concepts of cloud formation and atmospheric pressure, his innate emotional response the actual experience of rain, or rather of being protected from it, had never left him. As he’d grown and learned first hand of the knocks that life could bring, part of him still luxuriated in the sense of safety to be found watching the wind gust and the rain fall from inside the protected comfort of wherever his research had happened to have taken him. Of course, in Siberia and Antarctica it had been snowflakes rather than raindrops, but the same principle had applied and Rodney, alone with his formulae, had always found a small measure of solace from the experience.
But Pegasus has managed to change that, as it has so many things in Rodney’s life. Now rain has very different associations for him. Watching it fall no longer conjures feelings of safety; instead it brings to mind the stench of fear, the sour taste of failure and the eerily painless sensation of the sharp blade of a knife. Rodney feels his breathing speed up and notices that he’s cradling his left arm protectively against his chest. He takes a deep breath and forces his arm back down to his side, trying to relax despite his mounting tension.
“Hey, buddy,” a voice sounds from the doorway.
“Hey,” Rodney mumbles in automatic response, his eyes still focused on the storm before him and his mind still unhappily locked in the past.
The sound of soft footfalls herald John’s approach and Rodney lifts his eyes to look at the reflection of John in the glass. John’s dressed in his black BDUs, complete with thigh holster and black armband, his dog tags clearly visible through the taut material of his t-shirt. He looks sturdy and solid - every inch the soldier; strong, brave and true.
Suddenly a bright bolt of lightening streaks across the sky, its accompanying clap of thunder making Rodney jump. Instantly strong arms come around his body, holding him close, and John’s chin comes to rest on Rodney’s shoulder. Rodney can feel the entire length of John’s body against his own, and he can’t help but lean back slightly into John’s embrace.
“Quite some weather we’re getting,” John says as he links his hands together across Rodney’s middle. “You doin’ alright?”
Rodney closes his eyes as the warmth of John’s body starts to seep into him. “Yeah,” he says, opening his eyes once more as he realises that it is true. The rain is still coming down hard and there’s another bolt of lighting and a low rumble of thunder, but now they seem to have lost their power over him.
Things have changed and, perhaps more importantly, he has changed with them. During his time on Atlantis, he’s grown. The struggle for survival has forced him to push himself beyond his natural comfort zone and has meant that he’s had no choice but to open himself up to the new people and the new possibilities Atlantis represents. And therein lies the answer - the principles of physics may be universal, but it’s the people who make the difference.
Moving with deliberate care, Rodney brings his arms up and places his hands over John’s. He then proceeds to move their joined hands up so the rest over the centre of his chest, over his heart. As suddenly as it begun, the weather turns once more; the rain starting to dissipate as the steady downpour becoming a light trickle which quickly fades into a gentle mist. Rays of sunlight start to break through, illuminating the spires of Atlantis and making the crests of the ocean waves sparkle.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” John asks softly and Rodney hums his agreement. They stand there for long moments, still wrapped around each other and watch as the sun finally starts to set, turning their city and her ocean to burnished gold.
“So,” Rodney says, breaking the silence at last. “Dinner?”
John laughs, soft puffs of air gusting into Rodney’s ear, and his arms tighten about Rodney for a moment. “Definitely,” he replies “Besides, I heard a rumor that there’s chocolate cake for dessert and made sure Philips set a couple of pieces aside for us.”
Rodney grins at that, turning in John’s embrace to beam at him. “I knew there was a reason I keep you around,” he replies.
“Well,” John said. “You know me - ace pilot, defender of astrophysicists and protector of all things chocolate.”
“Don’t forget light-switch in chief,” Rodney adds, memories of John painting the spirals of the Milky Way on the ceiling of an Antarctic Ancient outpost flickering briefly before his eyes.
“Yes, how could I ever forget that?” John asks with a fond look as he leans forward to kiss Rodney gently. The kiss is light and soft and Rodney feels a little twirl of joy twist gleefully in his stomach at the touch of John’s lips. His stomach then proceeds to growl in hunger.
John pulls back and cocks an eyebrow. “Okay, so I’m thinking dinner first and then we should come back here and finish this conversation.”
Rodney opens his mouth to respond, but John silences him before he can utter a word by another quick kiss. “Hypoglycemia - I know, I know,” he says as he pulls back and starts steering Rodney towards the door. “Come on then. After all, we wouldn’t want any passing out - manly or otherwise - now would we?”
Rodney rolls his eyes, but otherwise refrains from responding to John’s taunts - reciprocal teasing is, after all, one of the foundations of their relationship, and he already has a variety of imaginative and highly enjoyable ideas about how to exact his revenge.
Yes, he thinks as he and John make their way out into the corridor and start heading towards the commissary. Here, in this galaxy, amongst the Wraith, the Genii, and the countless other threats they’ve yet to encounter, he is finally safe.
~fin~