Ficlets: Five Things Responses (SGA, SN)
Sep. 16th, 2006 11:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereI started this meme weeks ago and still haven't finished answering all the responses (only one to go!).
Sports Night:
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phoebesmum: five reasons Dan and Casey couldn't live without cable TV
1. Sports on demand.
2. No, really, sports on demand. Any minute of any day, we can watch sports.
3. Our show. No cable TV, no SportsNight. No SportsNight, no... well, no life as we know it.
4. The WB. (Or as Casey would say, crappy teen dramas.)
5. ...um, did we mention the ability to watch sports whenever we want?
Forlaylee: Five things Charlie has given to Casey for Father's day.
1. A gift certificate to Borders. Casey used it to buy novels in French.
2. A pair of glove to match his cool scarf.
3. A homemade father's day card, scribbled in blue and orange crayon. (Charlie was only six at the time.)
4. The boxed set of the Rocky movies on DVD. Casey marathoned-watched them all night and got chided by Dana, Natalie and Isaac for showing up tired. (He got teased by everyone when he fell asleep during a C-break. At the desk. With his head hanging back, mouth open, and the soft sound of almost-snores being picked up by his mike.)
5. Tickets for two to Disneyworld and a double room booked. Charlie had to apologize because he couldn't get the time off work to go with Dan and Casey, but his card wished them a good time.
Forcatwalksalone: Five things that Casey thinks are cool but really aren't.
1) Speaking foreign languages fluently. When it comes to ordering in an up-market French restaurant, Casey's not entirely wrong. When it comes to watching German copshows in the office because he's the only one who gets the jokes -- it's not cool.
2) Magnetic notepads for fridges. Casey thinks they're a great idea and highly useful.
3) A developed understanding of the physical world around us (read: weather patterns). While knowing when to bring, or not bring, an umbrella is important for both health and appearance, a fascination with the Weather Channel will never become a sign of cool.
4) Compilation CDs, like "Time Life: Sounds of [insert decade here]'s". Danny hasn't bothered explaining that compilation CD's are always two degrees less cool than the most uncool song/artist featured on them. A handful of three cool songs drowning in a CD of misplaced nostalgia cannot hope to offset the uncool factor.
5) Polka-dot bowties. The logic that goes that if Dan -- a self-proclaimed authority on all that is cool and all that is not -- wears one on-air, they must be cool.
Forcelli: Five things Dan and/or Casey gave up to get where they are today.
1. Sunrises -- but they get fantastic sunsets through their office window.
2. Anonymous blind dates -- these days, most of their dates have at least seen them in a commercial.
3. Driving their own cars -- publicists tend to frown on that sort of thing. It makes them look less like stars and more like sports nerds.
4. Personal privacy -- when half of your conversations are miked and the other half occur in shared offices, bullpens and editing rooms, very little stays private for long.
5. Doing their own laundry -- when there's a random chance of having your photo taken, you can't afford to be seen doing your laundry in tie-dyed drawstring pants and a wifebeater because it's laundry-day and they were the only clean things you had left.
Stargate: Atlantis
Forin_the_bottle: Five things John never said to Rodney
1. "I like the sound of your voice when you panic. As long as you can complain, things aren't too bad."
2. "You're amazingly brave. When you don't think about it."
3. "You snore. That's the reason we always share a tent on overnight missions. Teyla or Ronon would probably kill you in your sleep for that noise."
4. "Chaya asked me to stay with her. I almost accepted."
5. "If everything I've done led me here, to Atlantis, to you, then it was all worth it. Every moment in Afghanistan, every bloodied corpse. Given the choice, I'd probably do it all over again.
Foraurora_84: Five misconceptions Rodney has/had about John
1. That John was an idiot
This misconception started the day -- no, probably the minute -- that Rodney met John. John was standing beside the helicopter, smirking behind aviator glasses and watching Rodney haul approximately 6.7 tons of research equipment with him.
John drawled, "Anything I can carry?"
"Yes, I'm going to let the idiot pilot drop, wreck and completely destroy work that would take lesser minds decades to produce."
Clearly, the man was a moron.
2. That John was known
John trained with the other marines, went running on the catwalks, and lined up for mess hall food with the same open, half-amused grin. He knew everyone's name -- the guards, the tech-crew and even the skinny kid serving the powdered mash potatoes -- and remembered insane details about them like where they'd come from and their family life and who they'd left behind.
He'd mention the Athosian planting festival to the botanists and share tales of agricultural societies with the anthropologists. He'd talk about movies and sports, and knew just enough about anything to keep the irritating drivel of small talk flowing smoothly.
If anyone asked, he'd talk about football games and Ferris Wheels, and everyone walked away feeling like they knew him.
3. That John was shallow
Rodney blames this misconception on all the small talk. It's hard to credit anyone with deep thoughts -- or even a passing acquaintance with reason -- when the only thing they say about themselves is that they like flying and Ferris Wheels.
4. That John was safe
The guy who flies the team and charms the natives is supposed to be friendly and reliable. He's supposed to like football games and know how to shoot and when to run for your life.
He's not supposed to use the gate to kill dozens of people at a time.
5. That John was untouchable
"You're drunk," Rodney accuses when he opens his door to find John slouching with a beer bottle at his feet. He hadn't knocked on Rodney's door; Rodney's not sure what made him wake up at three in the morning to check his doorway.
John's leaning against the opposite wall, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't say anything, but his fingers are clenched into tight fists. He looks tired.
Rodney's not sure what to think, or what to say, so he grabs John's arm and pulls him inside.
Forekaterinn: Five of Rodney's mornings
1) The morning before they leave Antarctica.
Sleep is for the under-excited. Rodney is not the type of person to not understand what they're about to do -- the scope of it, the danger, the limitless, incredible possibility of it -- so he catches sleep in restless, excited dreams, checking off inventory lists real and imagined.
His alarm clock counts minutes slowly and he spends an hour watching it grind to 6am, thinking about all the things that could go wrong and how he can make sure they don't.
He gets dressed in the dark and hovers at his door, waiting for shrill beeps. When the alarm goes off, he opens the door and steps out.
2) The third morning in Atlantis
It takes three days for the scientists to claim bedrooms. Most of the military are still sleeping in make-shift dorm rooms: sixteen marines, in sleeping bags, haphazardly lying across the hall like fallen dominos. They're waiting to be assigned quarters, waiting for risk analyses and tactical concerns to tell them where to go.
The civilians -- the smart ones, at least -- aren't waiting for that. They're claiming balconies and window-views, unpacking clothes into closets. They're hanging photos on walls, emotionally investing in their space to make this feel permanent, make this feel like a choice.
Rodney spends his third morning on Atlantis pulling out certificates, arranging them on the wall.
3) The morning after Rodney got the ATA gene
Rodney wakes up to his alarm. He groans, drags himself up and stumbles towards the shower. He's still half-asleep, so he forgets to get undress before stepping under the spray.
Normally, it's the hot water on his face that wakes him up, that first shot of adrenaline as he almost drowns -- because more often than not, he's too drowsy to close his mouth when he gets in and a mouthful of water is always a sudden shock -- but this morning it takes minutes before his brain floats to true consciousness.
When it does, he realises that he's still dressed. When it does, he realises that his clothes are dry.
Then he remembers the price of invulnerability.
4) The morning of Gall and Abroms's memorial
It's a normal morning: irritating alarm, waking up tired and grumpy, stumbling into the shower, dragging on a uniform and hoping this was the clean one. Rodney goes to the mess, gets coffee and breakfast, and sits by himself because he can't see anyone he recognises and likes.
He gets a second cup of coffee and then heads down to the labs. There are reports to read through, maintenance issues to prioritise and Zelenka always works on the most interesting things when Rodney's offworld. The labs are quiet and half-deserted, which is quite common of an early morning.
It's hours later, when Rodney's trying to petition Elizabeth -- via email -- for permission for the botanists to go on another seed-harvesting trip to MR2-574, that he realises he missed the memorial.
He wouldn't have known what to say anyway.
5) The morning after they returned to Earth
Rodney awakes to a different alarm, stumbles into a different shower and spends three and a half minutes trying to remember how to work his coffee machine. After a fourth wasted minute, he decides to go down to Starbucks -- or the closest cafe he can find -- and order a double espresso.
When he orders, he can hear the girls behind him talk about nightclubs and new places, and who did what with whom on the weekend. The other conversations around him are equally mundane: a group in dark suits discussing the campaign's -- apparently "ridiculously low" -- budget, a couple considering going to mom's next Tuesday, three kids complaining about homework and essays.
He sits near the window, sunlight creeping over the big, plush armchair, and eavesdrops disinterestedly. If he ignores the conversations and the rattle-grind-hiss of coffee being made, he hears traffic. Horns and exhaust pipes that sound like rush-hour traffic, hundreds of people making their way to work and school, worrying about their everyday lives.
Rodney closes his eyes. If he listens hard, he can almost hear the ocean.
Fordzurlady: Five things John wishes Rodney would notice
1. The pained expression on another person's face when Rodney won't. Stop. Talking. John's pretty sure Rodney has absolutely no clue.
2. That people on Atlantis genuinely like Rodney. He doesn't need to be smarter than everyone else, doesn't have to be the only person with a solution, to prove his worth to these people. They'd like him whether he was useful or not.
3. That when John sys, "Could we talk about this somewhere else?" he really means that he wants to talk about it somewhere else. Two foot to the side, or around a corner, or whispering over a cafeteria table does not count as a private place and is not appropriate for any discussion involving feelings, sex or personal vulnerabilities.
4. The sunrise from one of the balconies. It's a beautiful sight that Rodney never sees.
5. That Rodney has moved his laptop, his spare uniforms, his toothbrush, mouthwash and dental floss, his underwear, his DVD collection and his pillow into John's room. The only thing missing is his collection of framed ego-memorabilia; when that moves over, John hopes Rodney will notice that they're living together.
Sports Night:
For
phoebesmum: five reasons Dan and Casey couldn't live without cable TV1. Sports on demand.
2. No, really, sports on demand. Any minute of any day, we can watch sports.
3. Our show. No cable TV, no SportsNight. No SportsNight, no... well, no life as we know it.
4. The WB. (Or as Casey would say, crappy teen dramas.)
5. ...um, did we mention the ability to watch sports whenever we want?
For
laylee: Five things Charlie has given to Casey for Father's day.1. A gift certificate to Borders. Casey used it to buy novels in French.
2. A pair of glove to match his cool scarf.
3. A homemade father's day card, scribbled in blue and orange crayon. (Charlie was only six at the time.)
4. The boxed set of the Rocky movies on DVD. Casey marathoned-watched them all night and got chided by Dana, Natalie and Isaac for showing up tired. (He got teased by everyone when he fell asleep during a C-break. At the desk. With his head hanging back, mouth open, and the soft sound of almost-snores being picked up by his mike.)
5. Tickets for two to Disneyworld and a double room booked. Charlie had to apologize because he couldn't get the time off work to go with Dan and Casey, but his card wished them a good time.
For
catwalksalone: Five things that Casey thinks are cool but really aren't.1) Speaking foreign languages fluently. When it comes to ordering in an up-market French restaurant, Casey's not entirely wrong. When it comes to watching German copshows in the office because he's the only one who gets the jokes -- it's not cool.
2) Magnetic notepads for fridges. Casey thinks they're a great idea and highly useful.
3) A developed understanding of the physical world around us (read: weather patterns). While knowing when to bring, or not bring, an umbrella is important for both health and appearance, a fascination with the Weather Channel will never become a sign of cool.
4) Compilation CDs, like "Time Life: Sounds of [insert decade here]'s". Danny hasn't bothered explaining that compilation CD's are always two degrees less cool than the most uncool song/artist featured on them. A handful of three cool songs drowning in a CD of misplaced nostalgia cannot hope to offset the uncool factor.
5) Polka-dot bowties. The logic that goes that if Dan -- a self-proclaimed authority on all that is cool and all that is not -- wears one on-air, they must be cool.
For
celli: Five things Dan and/or Casey gave up to get where they are today.1. Sunrises -- but they get fantastic sunsets through their office window.
2. Anonymous blind dates -- these days, most of their dates have at least seen them in a commercial.
3. Driving their own cars -- publicists tend to frown on that sort of thing. It makes them look less like stars and more like sports nerds.
4. Personal privacy -- when half of your conversations are miked and the other half occur in shared offices, bullpens and editing rooms, very little stays private for long.
5. Doing their own laundry -- when there's a random chance of having your photo taken, you can't afford to be seen doing your laundry in tie-dyed drawstring pants and a wifebeater because it's laundry-day and they were the only clean things you had left.
Stargate: Atlantis
For
in_the_bottle: Five things John never said to Rodney1. "I like the sound of your voice when you panic. As long as you can complain, things aren't too bad."
2. "You're amazingly brave. When you don't think about it."
3. "You snore. That's the reason we always share a tent on overnight missions. Teyla or Ronon would probably kill you in your sleep for that noise."
4. "Chaya asked me to stay with her. I almost accepted."
5. "If everything I've done led me here, to Atlantis, to you, then it was all worth it. Every moment in Afghanistan, every bloodied corpse. Given the choice, I'd probably do it all over again.
For
aurora_84: Five misconceptions Rodney has/had about John1. That John was an idiot
This misconception started the day -- no, probably the minute -- that Rodney met John. John was standing beside the helicopter, smirking behind aviator glasses and watching Rodney haul approximately 6.7 tons of research equipment with him.
John drawled, "Anything I can carry?"
"Yes, I'm going to let the idiot pilot drop, wreck and completely destroy work that would take lesser minds decades to produce."
Clearly, the man was a moron.
2. That John was known
John trained with the other marines, went running on the catwalks, and lined up for mess hall food with the same open, half-amused grin. He knew everyone's name -- the guards, the tech-crew and even the skinny kid serving the powdered mash potatoes -- and remembered insane details about them like where they'd come from and their family life and who they'd left behind.
He'd mention the Athosian planting festival to the botanists and share tales of agricultural societies with the anthropologists. He'd talk about movies and sports, and knew just enough about anything to keep the irritating drivel of small talk flowing smoothly.
If anyone asked, he'd talk about football games and Ferris Wheels, and everyone walked away feeling like they knew him.
3. That John was shallow
Rodney blames this misconception on all the small talk. It's hard to credit anyone with deep thoughts -- or even a passing acquaintance with reason -- when the only thing they say about themselves is that they like flying and Ferris Wheels.
4. That John was safe
The guy who flies the team and charms the natives is supposed to be friendly and reliable. He's supposed to like football games and know how to shoot and when to run for your life.
He's not supposed to use the gate to kill dozens of people at a time.
5. That John was untouchable
"You're drunk," Rodney accuses when he opens his door to find John slouching with a beer bottle at his feet. He hadn't knocked on Rodney's door; Rodney's not sure what made him wake up at three in the morning to check his doorway.
John's leaning against the opposite wall, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't say anything, but his fingers are clenched into tight fists. He looks tired.
Rodney's not sure what to think, or what to say, so he grabs John's arm and pulls him inside.
For
ekaterinn: Five of Rodney's mornings1) The morning before they leave Antarctica.
Sleep is for the under-excited. Rodney is not the type of person to not understand what they're about to do -- the scope of it, the danger, the limitless, incredible possibility of it -- so he catches sleep in restless, excited dreams, checking off inventory lists real and imagined.
His alarm clock counts minutes slowly and he spends an hour watching it grind to 6am, thinking about all the things that could go wrong and how he can make sure they don't.
He gets dressed in the dark and hovers at his door, waiting for shrill beeps. When the alarm goes off, he opens the door and steps out.
2) The third morning in Atlantis
It takes three days for the scientists to claim bedrooms. Most of the military are still sleeping in make-shift dorm rooms: sixteen marines, in sleeping bags, haphazardly lying across the hall like fallen dominos. They're waiting to be assigned quarters, waiting for risk analyses and tactical concerns to tell them where to go.
The civilians -- the smart ones, at least -- aren't waiting for that. They're claiming balconies and window-views, unpacking clothes into closets. They're hanging photos on walls, emotionally investing in their space to make this feel permanent, make this feel like a choice.
Rodney spends his third morning on Atlantis pulling out certificates, arranging them on the wall.
3) The morning after Rodney got the ATA gene
Rodney wakes up to his alarm. He groans, drags himself up and stumbles towards the shower. He's still half-asleep, so he forgets to get undress before stepping under the spray.
Normally, it's the hot water on his face that wakes him up, that first shot of adrenaline as he almost drowns -- because more often than not, he's too drowsy to close his mouth when he gets in and a mouthful of water is always a sudden shock -- but this morning it takes minutes before his brain floats to true consciousness.
When it does, he realises that he's still dressed. When it does, he realises that his clothes are dry.
Then he remembers the price of invulnerability.
4) The morning of Gall and Abroms's memorial
It's a normal morning: irritating alarm, waking up tired and grumpy, stumbling into the shower, dragging on a uniform and hoping this was the clean one. Rodney goes to the mess, gets coffee and breakfast, and sits by himself because he can't see anyone he recognises and likes.
He gets a second cup of coffee and then heads down to the labs. There are reports to read through, maintenance issues to prioritise and Zelenka always works on the most interesting things when Rodney's offworld. The labs are quiet and half-deserted, which is quite common of an early morning.
It's hours later, when Rodney's trying to petition Elizabeth -- via email -- for permission for the botanists to go on another seed-harvesting trip to MR2-574, that he realises he missed the memorial.
He wouldn't have known what to say anyway.
5) The morning after they returned to Earth
Rodney awakes to a different alarm, stumbles into a different shower and spends three and a half minutes trying to remember how to work his coffee machine. After a fourth wasted minute, he decides to go down to Starbucks -- or the closest cafe he can find -- and order a double espresso.
When he orders, he can hear the girls behind him talk about nightclubs and new places, and who did what with whom on the weekend. The other conversations around him are equally mundane: a group in dark suits discussing the campaign's -- apparently "ridiculously low" -- budget, a couple considering going to mom's next Tuesday, three kids complaining about homework and essays.
He sits near the window, sunlight creeping over the big, plush armchair, and eavesdrops disinterestedly. If he ignores the conversations and the rattle-grind-hiss of coffee being made, he hears traffic. Horns and exhaust pipes that sound like rush-hour traffic, hundreds of people making their way to work and school, worrying about their everyday lives.
Rodney closes his eyes. If he listens hard, he can almost hear the ocean.
For
dzurlady: Five things John wishes Rodney would notice1. The pained expression on another person's face when Rodney won't. Stop. Talking. John's pretty sure Rodney has absolutely no clue.
2. That people on Atlantis genuinely like Rodney. He doesn't need to be smarter than everyone else, doesn't have to be the only person with a solution, to prove his worth to these people. They'd like him whether he was useful or not.
3. That when John sys, "Could we talk about this somewhere else?" he really means that he wants to talk about it somewhere else. Two foot to the side, or around a corner, or whispering over a cafeteria table does not count as a private place and is not appropriate for any discussion involving feelings, sex or personal vulnerabilities.
4. The sunrise from one of the balconies. It's a beautiful sight that Rodney never sees.
5. That Rodney has moved his laptop, his spare uniforms, his toothbrush, mouthwash and dental floss, his underwear, his DVD collection and his pillow into John's room. The only thing missing is his collection of framed ego-memorabilia; when that moves over, John hopes Rodney will notice that they're living together.
