Woohoo! (And SGA wip)
Feb. 23rd, 2006 04:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereI got my lj fixed! Even if I'm not writing Casey, I now have an excuse to stare at him (because he's on the top of my FList too).
Also, an SGA snippet written to cheer up![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
celli:
John never sees this coming.
It's not until Krisya shows him the bed -- a four-poster monstrosity of purple velvet and steel -- that he realizes "talk more about the trade agreement" means something completely different. Something that has nothing to do with the trade negotiations or actual talking.
"Oh," is the first thing he says, followed by, "Um."
She grins at him, sharp-eyed as an eagle, and smoothes a hand over her hip. "Please, John. Make yourself comfortable."
"I think there's been a slight communication gap." He feels like he always does in this situation: sheepish and embarrassed for both of them. "You said trade negotiations, and I thought you meant... well. Trade negotiations."
Her kohl-rimmed eyes blink twice and then she frowns. "You're not attracted to me?"
"It's not that," John reassures her quickly. Her black hair is pulled back in a sharp ponytail but she's still extremely pretty. Also, she's 5'7" of curves wrapped in a thin silk shirt and snug leather pants, and John's a guy.
Just as he gets to the part where he mentally shrugs, thinks, "What the hell," and really enjoys himself, McKay bursts into the room.
McKay's science uniform is rumpled and unironed, he's sporting an ugly bruise on his left cheek (where he tripped over *his own feet* on the last mission), and instead of Krisya's sweet yet vulnerable smile, he's glaring and possibly gritting his teeth. "I don't even know why I'm surprised."
Rodney's critical, cranky and barely ever well-groomed. He's a walking, talking shrine to sarcasm, but he still makes John feel like smiling. "Krisya was just explaining--"
"Oh, please," Rodney replies, rolling his eyes extravagantly. "Don't try to rationalize this. Just... do your Kirk-thing and when you're finished, we can take a nice, leisurely, scenic route back to the city and arrive after Petersen has blown up the east wing."
Rodney storms out the door. John takes a second to check his holster -- one Beretta, yes -- and then hurries after him, picking up his P90 from the discussion table.
The flight to the gate takes ten minutes. Rodney uses the first two to snidely comment under his breath about negotiators of little virtue and the remaining eight yelling at Petersen through his headset and trying to avert disaster.
John spends his time willing the jumper to go faster and she does, gliding through the air like a hot knife through butter. The inertia dampeners make it a frictionless flight, smooth and easy, slowing down the second they hit the gate.
Then John sits back and lets Atlantis do her thing, lets her guide the jumper back to the bay and open the door. McKay dashes off, heading to the eastern generator to do something he claims any ten year old should be able to do -- but John has no idea of what it is -- leaving John, Teyla and Ronon to debrief Elizabeth.
***
John really never sees this coming.
He's used to people being friendly, smiling back when he smiles at them, making life a little more civil, a little easier. But sometimes girls take it the wrong way and he ends up in a bedroom, or sitting with a girl on his lap, and he's basically a nice guy.
He doesn't want to break anybody's heart by saying, "I'm not that into you." He doesn't want to insult anyone (or inadvertently give them more enemies). Also, he's a *guy*: bold, gorgeous women offering him sex is never going to be a bad thing.
Except when he finds himself cornered by the regents of Iardo (MX3-546).
They're twins, and almost identical with their big brown eyes and sweet round faces, orange-gold hair curling to their shoulders. They're also the rulers of the country, making the situation slightly less appealing.
Of course, the one moment he wants Rodney to burst in with a flimsy excuse for getting John out of there, Rodney's off in the science labs, drooling over an Ancient generator.
"We find you very interesting, Colonel Sheppard," Lahti says, wrapping her hand around his wrist.
"Very interesting," Larn echoes, shifting closer and leaning his hand against the wall beside John's ear.
It's not that he has a problem with the guy thing -- after all, John's nowhere near as straight as the defense forces would like -- but it's the twin thing that keeps getting him. *Twins*. There's something very wrong about being propositioned to sleep with two closely-related people.
John presses his back harder into the wall, but the wall refuses to move. On Atlantis, the wall would have moved. "Honestly, I'm flattered. Very flattered."
"We would like your opinion on the palace's security measures." Larn edges closer until the thigh holster is digging into both their legs.
Lahti smiles. "Especially in regards to the royal quarters."
"Really flattered, but..." This is where it gets difficult. They're co-rulers to a country with a strong agricultural system and enough Ancient technology that they don't need an alliance with Atlantis. If John insults them, he's going to have to go back to Elizabeth and explain it. In detail. "I'm really not comfortable with this."
"Then allow us to make you more comfortable," Lahti says, pulling open his vest and then sliding a fingertip under the waistband of John's pants.
"Okay, even less comfortable now."
And then Rodney -- his savior; his belligerent, arrogant savior -- strides into the room, cradling a new trophy gadget close to his chest. He's flushed and bright-eyed, dust and cobwebs clinging to his shoulders and back. Then he sees John, and the happy grin is quickly replaced with a scowl as he stomps over.
"Hey, McKay. You remember Lahti and Larn, right?" The twins step to the side, flanking John.
Rodney grabs John's hand and yanks him away, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, "One space bimbo isn't enough now?" under his breath. John hopes they didn't hear that.
"Excuse me, Regents," Rodney says, louder and full of cold politeness, "but the Colonel has other duties he needs to attend to immediately. He obviously should have mentioned that to you, but he must have forgotten details like responsibility and expected behaviour."
Rodney glares at him, which is a little amusing when he has a streak of dirt across his forehead and one arm hugging the device. But John knows this routine well. He nods and makes his apologies, and sticks to Rodney's side until they get back to the gate.
***
The downside to not seeing it coming is that John has no idea of signals. There are friendly smiles and there are flirting smiles, and then there are the come back to my room and have sex with me smiles. John can't tell the difference.
John's spent years being blindsided and willingly seduced. He has no idea how to be the seducer, and not the seducee.
He's tried flirting with Rodney, flattering him. Rodney either gets disconcerted and self-conscious, or suspicious and sarcastic. When John pays him attention, Rodney takes it for granted.
John's even tried using a feeble excuse to get Rodney into his bedroom, saying that his shower isn't working right. Rodney had snorted and said, "Let me make a few things clear for you. You are not living in an apartment building and I am not your super. I have far, far better things to do than make sure your hot water is just hot enough."
Then Miko had turned up at his door at half-past eleven, blinking behind huge glasses and holding a cup of coffee in her other hand. "Rodney said your bathroom needed to be fixed."
John had been forced to step aside and let her in. Ten minutes later, she was gone and his shower worked perfectly.
To Be Continued. Sometime.
Also, an SGA snippet written to cheer up
celli:John never sees this coming.
It's not until Krisya shows him the bed -- a four-poster monstrosity of purple velvet and steel -- that he realizes "talk more about the trade agreement" means something completely different. Something that has nothing to do with the trade negotiations or actual talking.
"Oh," is the first thing he says, followed by, "Um."
She grins at him, sharp-eyed as an eagle, and smoothes a hand over her hip. "Please, John. Make yourself comfortable."
"I think there's been a slight communication gap." He feels like he always does in this situation: sheepish and embarrassed for both of them. "You said trade negotiations, and I thought you meant... well. Trade negotiations."
Her kohl-rimmed eyes blink twice and then she frowns. "You're not attracted to me?"
"It's not that," John reassures her quickly. Her black hair is pulled back in a sharp ponytail but she's still extremely pretty. Also, she's 5'7" of curves wrapped in a thin silk shirt and snug leather pants, and John's a guy.
Just as he gets to the part where he mentally shrugs, thinks, "What the hell," and really enjoys himself, McKay bursts into the room.
McKay's science uniform is rumpled and unironed, he's sporting an ugly bruise on his left cheek (where he tripped over *his own feet* on the last mission), and instead of Krisya's sweet yet vulnerable smile, he's glaring and possibly gritting his teeth. "I don't even know why I'm surprised."
Rodney's critical, cranky and barely ever well-groomed. He's a walking, talking shrine to sarcasm, but he still makes John feel like smiling. "Krisya was just explaining--"
"Oh, please," Rodney replies, rolling his eyes extravagantly. "Don't try to rationalize this. Just... do your Kirk-thing and when you're finished, we can take a nice, leisurely, scenic route back to the city and arrive after Petersen has blown up the east wing."
Rodney storms out the door. John takes a second to check his holster -- one Beretta, yes -- and then hurries after him, picking up his P90 from the discussion table.
The flight to the gate takes ten minutes. Rodney uses the first two to snidely comment under his breath about negotiators of little virtue and the remaining eight yelling at Petersen through his headset and trying to avert disaster.
John spends his time willing the jumper to go faster and she does, gliding through the air like a hot knife through butter. The inertia dampeners make it a frictionless flight, smooth and easy, slowing down the second they hit the gate.
Then John sits back and lets Atlantis do her thing, lets her guide the jumper back to the bay and open the door. McKay dashes off, heading to the eastern generator to do something he claims any ten year old should be able to do -- but John has no idea of what it is -- leaving John, Teyla and Ronon to debrief Elizabeth.
***
John really never sees this coming.
He's used to people being friendly, smiling back when he smiles at them, making life a little more civil, a little easier. But sometimes girls take it the wrong way and he ends up in a bedroom, or sitting with a girl on his lap, and he's basically a nice guy.
He doesn't want to break anybody's heart by saying, "I'm not that into you." He doesn't want to insult anyone (or inadvertently give them more enemies). Also, he's a *guy*: bold, gorgeous women offering him sex is never going to be a bad thing.
Except when he finds himself cornered by the regents of Iardo (MX3-546).
They're twins, and almost identical with their big brown eyes and sweet round faces, orange-gold hair curling to their shoulders. They're also the rulers of the country, making the situation slightly less appealing.
Of course, the one moment he wants Rodney to burst in with a flimsy excuse for getting John out of there, Rodney's off in the science labs, drooling over an Ancient generator.
"We find you very interesting, Colonel Sheppard," Lahti says, wrapping her hand around his wrist.
"Very interesting," Larn echoes, shifting closer and leaning his hand against the wall beside John's ear.
It's not that he has a problem with the guy thing -- after all, John's nowhere near as straight as the defense forces would like -- but it's the twin thing that keeps getting him. *Twins*. There's something very wrong about being propositioned to sleep with two closely-related people.
John presses his back harder into the wall, but the wall refuses to move. On Atlantis, the wall would have moved. "Honestly, I'm flattered. Very flattered."
"We would like your opinion on the palace's security measures." Larn edges closer until the thigh holster is digging into both their legs.
Lahti smiles. "Especially in regards to the royal quarters."
"Really flattered, but..." This is where it gets difficult. They're co-rulers to a country with a strong agricultural system and enough Ancient technology that they don't need an alliance with Atlantis. If John insults them, he's going to have to go back to Elizabeth and explain it. In detail. "I'm really not comfortable with this."
"Then allow us to make you more comfortable," Lahti says, pulling open his vest and then sliding a fingertip under the waistband of John's pants.
"Okay, even less comfortable now."
And then Rodney -- his savior; his belligerent, arrogant savior -- strides into the room, cradling a new trophy gadget close to his chest. He's flushed and bright-eyed, dust and cobwebs clinging to his shoulders and back. Then he sees John, and the happy grin is quickly replaced with a scowl as he stomps over.
"Hey, McKay. You remember Lahti and Larn, right?" The twins step to the side, flanking John.
Rodney grabs John's hand and yanks him away, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, "One space bimbo isn't enough now?" under his breath. John hopes they didn't hear that.
"Excuse me, Regents," Rodney says, louder and full of cold politeness, "but the Colonel has other duties he needs to attend to immediately. He obviously should have mentioned that to you, but he must have forgotten details like responsibility and expected behaviour."
Rodney glares at him, which is a little amusing when he has a streak of dirt across his forehead and one arm hugging the device. But John knows this routine well. He nods and makes his apologies, and sticks to Rodney's side until they get back to the gate.
***
The downside to not seeing it coming is that John has no idea of signals. There are friendly smiles and there are flirting smiles, and then there are the come back to my room and have sex with me smiles. John can't tell the difference.
John's spent years being blindsided and willingly seduced. He has no idea how to be the seducer, and not the seducee.
He's tried flirting with Rodney, flattering him. Rodney either gets disconcerted and self-conscious, or suspicious and sarcastic. When John pays him attention, Rodney takes it for granted.
John's even tried using a feeble excuse to get Rodney into his bedroom, saying that his shower isn't working right. Rodney had snorted and said, "Let me make a few things clear for you. You are not living in an apartment building and I am not your super. I have far, far better things to do than make sure your hot water is just hot enough."
Then Miko had turned up at his door at half-past eleven, blinking behind huge glasses and holding a cup of coffee in her other hand. "Rodney said your bathroom needed to be fixed."
John had been forced to step aside and let her in. Ten minutes later, she was gone and his shower worked perfectly.
To Be Continued. Sometime.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 06:21 am (UTC)Staring at Casey is always good. Not sure you need an excuse, but now you've got one. :-)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-23 06:39 am (UTC)It should make you happy. It makes me happy. :-) I may have to click into your journal instead of just reading your entries on my f-list! ;-)