SGA Fic: Words and Notes
Nov. 24th, 2005 01:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: Words and Notes
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: PG for kissing
Summary: At his core, Rodney is words: imaginative and entrancing.
Disclaimer: SGA doesn't belong to me. No profit here, folks.
Notes: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
celli for betaing. A late entry for scribblinlenore's Pucker Up: The Multifandom Mini Challenge.
Words and Notes
Before flying became as important as breathing and as thrilling as sex, before numbers and math became an easy A+, John had wanted to be a writer. He wanted to write a great novel: not one that would sell well, not one that would be popular, but one that would be remembered.
When he was twelve, he spent a year with his pencil and notepad in his pocket, always ready for inspiration. If he found the perfect sentence, he wanted to write it down and protect it from being lost.
The notepad was full of doodles and words, a child's attempt to record the color of sunlight, the smell of summer. All clumsy syntax and bad spelling, it was the opposite of what he wanted it to be: clear, moving, brilliant.
Then he'd discovered algebra and calculus. Numbers were clearer, simpler, more fundamentally *true*. He didn't have the words to describe the sharp chill of a winter breeze striking his face, but he had the numbers to detail its velocity, direction and wind-chill.
So he abandoned his notebook for graph paper.
***
McKay is a physicist -- "Astrophysicist," Rodney happily points out, "and one of the leading minds in my field" -- but there's a big difference between a theoretical and a mathematical one.
John's always thought of brilliant scientists in numeric terms, all equations and insightful formulas, but Rodney's nothing like that. Rodney is fast and loud, full of hyperbole and clever insults. He may study science, may find the saving equation, but at his core, Rodney is words: imaginative and entrancing.
He makes John feel twelve again, gawky and fumbling for the right words, uncertainly stumbling over his own tongue. John's a good-looking guy who knows how to charm people into his bed; he hasn't been uncertain for years.
The one consolation is that they're in a new galaxy, surrounded by brand-new enemies and dangers. Amongst all the excitement, John doubts his uncertainty has even been noticed.
***
One of those new dangers is a carnivorous plant that uses purple flowers to poison its prey. They find it on MX3-746. John remembers being dragged back to the jumper -- Teyla and Ronon on either side of him -- before he passes out.
He wakes up in the medlab. It's dimly lit, indicating night-time, and it isn't until he shifts, and McKay grabs his arm, that he notices Rodney sitting beside him.
"You're fine. Carson said it was a mild tranquilizer. It'll wear off completely by morning," McKay says, using his other hand to rub sleepily at his eyes. He looks crumpled and tired. "You know, I'd tell you to stop doing this stuff -- this stuff that ends up with you in the infirmary, and Carson muttering under his breath -- but I'm smart enough to know that wouldn't do any good."
"Go to bed," John says, soft and drowsy. It's not really an order, so he isn't surprised that Rodney ignores it.
"You're not my usual type, you know." A dry, warm thumb starts tracing over the bones of John's wrist. It's almost mesmerizing the way that Rodney doesn't meet John's eyes. "I don't mean the military thing because, frankly, I have a weakness for intelligent air-force personnel. I mean you. You're all angular and sharp. Not physically -- well, okay, your face does have a certain angular length to it, which isn't precisely unattractive -- but you're, like, the sharp sign on a note. You take these ordinary, mundane things and make them striking and vivid. In a mess hall of marines, you're the one that stands out, humming a little higher than the rest."
Words, John thinks as McKay pulls his pulls his hand back and stands up. Rodney is always words. Even when Rodney leans over and kisses him, it's imprecise as a cliché, with Rodney's mouth landing on the top corner of John's lips, soft and eloquent and meaningful.
Adjusting his positioning, Rodney kisses him again, his lower lip sliding between John's. Rodney sucks on John's upper lip relentlessly, trapping him between the hardness of teeth and the mobility of tongue. His fingers grab onto Rodney's arms, the back of Rodney's wide neck, and it takes a moment for John to realize those pleading, begging sounds are his.
Rodney presses one quick kiss to John's lower lip -- as if he's trying to be equally affectionate, which is a thought that makes John smile -- and leans away. Sliding a finger over John's jaw, Rodney straightens up. "Carson said you're going to be groggy for a few hours, and I'm really not one to take advantage of someone in an altered state."
John doesn't think the drugs are to blame: his rapid heartbeat and shortness of breath are all Rodney's doing. "It wouldn't be taking advantage."
When Rodney smiles, his eyes crinkle up and John can see the inquisitive, brilliant child Rodney must have been. "I'm not a fan of the semi-public thing either. Especially not when nurses will be checking in on you."
"So we'll continue this later," John says, his weariness creeping up and ambushing him. He covers his mouth out of habit, yawning against the back of his fingers.
Rodney nods. "Now get some rest." Then he leaves, like the perfect phrase fading from memory, but his gestures, his smile, his kiss remains clear in John's mind, like the twisting end of a great book.
John thinks about stories and endings as he settles into the bed and rearranges pillows. He falls asleep convinced that this will have a happily ever after.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: PG for kissing
Summary: At his core, Rodney is words: imaginative and entrancing.
Disclaimer: SGA doesn't belong to me. No profit here, folks.
Notes: Thanks to
celli for betaing. A late entry for scribblinlenore's Pucker Up: The Multifandom Mini Challenge.Words and Notes
Before flying became as important as breathing and as thrilling as sex, before numbers and math became an easy A+, John had wanted to be a writer. He wanted to write a great novel: not one that would sell well, not one that would be popular, but one that would be remembered.
When he was twelve, he spent a year with his pencil and notepad in his pocket, always ready for inspiration. If he found the perfect sentence, he wanted to write it down and protect it from being lost.
The notepad was full of doodles and words, a child's attempt to record the color of sunlight, the smell of summer. All clumsy syntax and bad spelling, it was the opposite of what he wanted it to be: clear, moving, brilliant.
Then he'd discovered algebra and calculus. Numbers were clearer, simpler, more fundamentally *true*. He didn't have the words to describe the sharp chill of a winter breeze striking his face, but he had the numbers to detail its velocity, direction and wind-chill.
So he abandoned his notebook for graph paper.
***
McKay is a physicist -- "Astrophysicist," Rodney happily points out, "and one of the leading minds in my field" -- but there's a big difference between a theoretical and a mathematical one.
John's always thought of brilliant scientists in numeric terms, all equations and insightful formulas, but Rodney's nothing like that. Rodney is fast and loud, full of hyperbole and clever insults. He may study science, may find the saving equation, but at his core, Rodney is words: imaginative and entrancing.
He makes John feel twelve again, gawky and fumbling for the right words, uncertainly stumbling over his own tongue. John's a good-looking guy who knows how to charm people into his bed; he hasn't been uncertain for years.
The one consolation is that they're in a new galaxy, surrounded by brand-new enemies and dangers. Amongst all the excitement, John doubts his uncertainty has even been noticed.
***
One of those new dangers is a carnivorous plant that uses purple flowers to poison its prey. They find it on MX3-746. John remembers being dragged back to the jumper -- Teyla and Ronon on either side of him -- before he passes out.
He wakes up in the medlab. It's dimly lit, indicating night-time, and it isn't until he shifts, and McKay grabs his arm, that he notices Rodney sitting beside him.
"You're fine. Carson said it was a mild tranquilizer. It'll wear off completely by morning," McKay says, using his other hand to rub sleepily at his eyes. He looks crumpled and tired. "You know, I'd tell you to stop doing this stuff -- this stuff that ends up with you in the infirmary, and Carson muttering under his breath -- but I'm smart enough to know that wouldn't do any good."
"Go to bed," John says, soft and drowsy. It's not really an order, so he isn't surprised that Rodney ignores it.
"You're not my usual type, you know." A dry, warm thumb starts tracing over the bones of John's wrist. It's almost mesmerizing the way that Rodney doesn't meet John's eyes. "I don't mean the military thing because, frankly, I have a weakness for intelligent air-force personnel. I mean you. You're all angular and sharp. Not physically -- well, okay, your face does have a certain angular length to it, which isn't precisely unattractive -- but you're, like, the sharp sign on a note. You take these ordinary, mundane things and make them striking and vivid. In a mess hall of marines, you're the one that stands out, humming a little higher than the rest."
Words, John thinks as McKay pulls his pulls his hand back and stands up. Rodney is always words. Even when Rodney leans over and kisses him, it's imprecise as a cliché, with Rodney's mouth landing on the top corner of John's lips, soft and eloquent and meaningful.
Adjusting his positioning, Rodney kisses him again, his lower lip sliding between John's. Rodney sucks on John's upper lip relentlessly, trapping him between the hardness of teeth and the mobility of tongue. His fingers grab onto Rodney's arms, the back of Rodney's wide neck, and it takes a moment for John to realize those pleading, begging sounds are his.
Rodney presses one quick kiss to John's lower lip -- as if he's trying to be equally affectionate, which is a thought that makes John smile -- and leans away. Sliding a finger over John's jaw, Rodney straightens up. "Carson said you're going to be groggy for a few hours, and I'm really not one to take advantage of someone in an altered state."
John doesn't think the drugs are to blame: his rapid heartbeat and shortness of breath are all Rodney's doing. "It wouldn't be taking advantage."
When Rodney smiles, his eyes crinkle up and John can see the inquisitive, brilliant child Rodney must have been. "I'm not a fan of the semi-public thing either. Especially not when nurses will be checking in on you."
"So we'll continue this later," John says, his weariness creeping up and ambushing him. He covers his mouth out of habit, yawning against the back of his fingers.
Rodney nods. "Now get some rest." Then he leaves, like the perfect phrase fading from memory, but his gestures, his smile, his kiss remains clear in John's mind, like the twisting end of a great book.
John thinks about stories and endings as he settles into the bed and rearranges pillows. He falls asleep convinced that this will have a happily ever after.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 02:32 am (UTC)I love the way you've got John's thing for words flickering through this and this line is great:
Words, John thinks as McKay pulls his pulls his hand back and stands up. Rodney is always words.
ps I'm missing chatting to you on aim but i've been having a few odd days, so i'll catch up with you soon!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 10:54 pm (UTC)Thank you.
And don't stress about AIM. We'll catch up eventually.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 10:49 pm (UTC)Thanks. I wanted to play with the idea of them both thinking of the other in terms of childhood ambitions -- ie. the things they wanted to do before they figured out the things they were actually good at.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-02 03:17 pm (UTC)That concept really resonates and makes the story richer. Nicely done. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-24 10:50 pm (UTC)Thanks.
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Date: 2005-11-24 05:30 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-11-24 10:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-25 12:13 am (UTC)One sure way to make me lose all of mine. *g*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-25 07:25 pm (UTC)Even when I'm not writing my Sorkin-boys, who are canonically writers, I end up writing the SGA-boys as writers. I blame it all on Joe Flanigan and "Farewell to Harry". The idea of Lil' John carefully notetaking for his Great Novel suddenly became appealing.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-28 01:46 am (UTC)One of Joe's jobs pre-Atlantis was doing editorial work for Interview and Town and Country magazines (apparently between making copies and coffee, according to his answer at a convention appearance).
He does have the story credit for the Season 2 episode "Epiphany".
~anonymouse
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Date: 2005-11-28 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-11-25 07:24 pm (UTC)snarkyadorable.no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 07:59 am (UTC)I love this line. It is very much like Rodney and yet this wonderful story is sweet, and I can imagine John charming Rodney to calmness.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 08:31 pm (UTC)Thank you. I think that John could encourage Rodney to relax once in a while, could be that calm space where Rodney doesn't actually have to be the smartest and the loudest to get attention.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-27 05:10 pm (UTC)and I'm really not one to take advantage of someone in an altered state
That made me smile very wide.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-27 11:27 pm (UTC)*beams* Thank you. That's such a delightful compliment. (I don't think I've ever been called "charming" before.)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-02 05:57 am (UTC)Then he'd discovered algebra and calculus. Numbers were clearer, simpler, more fundamentally *true*. He didn't have the words to describe the sharp chill of a winter breeze striking his face, but he had the numbers to detail its velocity, direction and wind-chill.
Just. Wow. So totally John. :) This is one of those lovely fics that makes me heave a big happy sigh at the end.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-03 10:05 pm (UTC)Thank you. I loved the idea of playing with what the boys *loved* as kids, before they discovered where their skills lay. In John's case, it's the truth and clarity of numbers -- which just make sense to him -- and I'm thrilled that his POV worked for you.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-10 07:32 pm (UTC)Whoa, there, Rodney! Easy on the fangrrrlish gushing, or John'll get a swelled head!
*snorfles*
This is going into memories with your other SGA fics *smooches*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-11 09:57 am (UTC)*snorfles*
Hee! Rodney's approach to flattery is somewhat... unique.
This is going into memories with your other SGA fics *smooches*
*beams* I'm shockingly thrilled about that. Thank ou.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-13 05:48 am (UTC)But you've got such an appealing tone here. A really lovely style - must be a kind of economy of words or something that I'm attracted to... It's subtle, almost detached.
Can't help thinking I want more though - more of this story, more of how they get to this place... or something, I really don't know. Next time, perhaps? I'll keep an eye out for the next one. *g*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-17 10:30 pm (UTC)A really lovely style - must be a kind of economy of words or something that I'm attracted to... It's subtle, almost detached.
Thank you. It was an interesting style to play with, since it's so internally focused (on what John *thinks* of the situations, of how he connects it to past experiences, as opposed to what's happening outside of him). Which is probably part of the reason why it doesn't deal with the outcomes of the conversation or what happened to get them there. It's a tiny piece focussed on understanding how John sees it, as opposed to a plot-based romance of what happens during the relationship.
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