alyse: terminator genisys -full body shot of Sarah and Kyle walking away from the camera (shep fandom genes)
([personal profile] alyse Mar. 20th, 2005 05:30 pm)
The [livejournal.com profile] mckay_sheppard drabble tree is now closed, so I thought I'd post my drabbles here. After all, why not?

Ten in total, total number of words 1,733, which just goes to show that I write to the longer side. And, yes, being the anal type I am, I would normally insist that a drabble is exactly a 100 words, but I didn't start the first drabble tree, and we're following the precendent for the community of between 100-200 words being acceptable.

On to the drabbles.

~*~

"Sir, we need to talk."

That phrase has never preceded anything good in the entire history of mankind. Hell, even as a hormone addled seventeen year old I possessed enough smarts to realise it, and I did not just think about my first girlfriend and Bates in the same breath.

"Spit it out, Sergeant." My best pissed expression doesn't faze him - and why should it? It can't possibly measure up to anything Sumner threw at him. Nothing I do measures up to Sumner.

It certainly doesn't make him rethink the next words to come out of his mouth.

"Your relationship with Dr. McKay..."

He trails off but I get the message. I'd be pretty damned stupid not to, the way he's not meeting my eyes and staring past my left shoulder. Pretty damned stupid too not to know this day would come.

I consider my options and settle for blunt.

"Sergeant, we're in a whole new galaxy, facing down a soul sucking race of Goth wannabes from hell, and you're worried that I might possibly be in an inappropriate relationship with another man?"

"No, sir." Now he meets my eyes and I wish he hadn't. "Not another man. A member of your team."

And to that, I've got nothing.

~*~

She couldn't help it. In spite of her vaunted self-control, in spite of her calm demeanour and near legendary ability to focus, her eyes kept sliding sideways towards Major Sheppard.

It was stupid and it bordered on the juvenile, making her feel like the gawky teenager she'd never been. The one who spent her lunch hour eyeing up the captain of the football squad, knowing damned well she didn't stand a chance when he was already going out with half the cheerleading squad.

Still, she was only human. How could she be expected to resist?

She lowered her face towards the report in her hand again, and then slid her eyes to the left, tracing the hickey on Sheppard's neck with her gaze.

She didn't need to look across the table and see Rodney's smirk to know exactly who'd been waving the pom-poms this time.

~*~

Unlike many of her people, Sora had seen the sky. Sora had grown up beneath the sky, riding on her father's shoulders and holding her mother's hand, laughing giddily as she balanced precariously on her perch.

Until the Wraith came. The Wraith came and her mother was gone, and Sora took up arms as so many of her kin.

Her mother had been a good soldier, had died like a Genii, protecting their home by maintaining the facade of helplessness until the end.

Had pretended. Had never been helpless, because the Genii never were. Had stood firm, because that's what Genii did. Had not run out into the fields, screaming Sora's name as the darts screamed over head and she stuffed her fingers into her ears and cried beneath the hedge and waited for her mother to save her.

Her mother had died a soldier, because her father told her so, his eyes trained on the wall and grief etched in every line.

At nine, Sora thought that perhaps she understood.

~*~

Rodney was having a moment, but then Rodney tended to have a lot of them. Moments of pissiness, moments of sheer outright terror, moments when his mouth ran away with him.

Actually, scrub that. They weren't so much 'moments' as Rodney’s normal modus operandi. It was the other moments that were just that... small, stolen periods of time when something else peeked through - something funny and tender and broken. Something that struck John as being as much 'Rodney' as this - Rodney in full bloom, tearing Kavanagh a new one for some incompetence or other.

Unfortunately that meant that John was having a moment too; a moment when he had to lean against the balustrade nonchalantly just to make sure that the effect his moment was having on him wasn't noticeable.

Once Rodney had finished glorying in his moment of exultant snarkiness, John was going to have to pull him aside and glory in a few exultant moments of his own.

~*~

She drifted through the days, focus beyond her. The days passed, as days did, and this time they did not count to the harvest, unless that to be harvested lived in this place.

She was disconnected, seeing and yet not seeing. The faces around her lacked definition; she named them all as they watched her, but it was as though through a haze. This one Major Sheppard, eyes dark with concern. That Dr Weir, with whom she had less in common than she'd first suspected. And this Dr Heightmeyer, who smelled like her mother, soft and flowery and warm with a voice like honey.

"Teyla," they murmured, and she smiled and nodded, and they seemed appeased.

But always, in her mind, she heard Them. Felt their hunger. Listened as they whispered and moaned in their passion, in the rushing of the hunt in their veins.

They were coming, and not even the Atlanteans could stop them.

They were coming and they would feed.

~*~

It was just a case of relieving pent up tension. It didn't mean anything. It was just flesh on flesh, even if the flesh in question was harder and firmer than he was used to. Just two guys helping each other out, and if it had the added bonus of shutting down McKay's brain functions for a moment or two, buying him a much needed respite from the constant flapping of the man's mouth, so be it.

He told himself that kissing McKay was just a quicker way to the same thing - peace and quiet - and when McKay's mouth moved over his skin, well, that worked too.

It wasn't like he was gay, just because McKay's fingers curled around his erection. Just because McKay liked to slide his tongue into John's mouth to swallow his moan. It didn't mean anything.

Didn't mean he was in love.

~*~

He watched as slowly, slowly Rodney's fingers traced patterns over his sweaty skin, symbols that only Rodney understood. He doubted that Rodney even knew he was awake, but that was fine with John, because it gave him a chance to indulge in his favourite pastime - McKay watching. Or rather, watching Rodney when all of the defences were down.

There was something in Rodney's eyes, in Rodney's face. Some tenderness that was hidden behind the snark and the superior attitude in the daytime. This was the way that Rodney looked when they came across something thrilling, something exciting, something that set Rodney's geeky little heart beating with joy.

This was how Rodney looked at him while he thought John was asleep.

The fingers travelled further down, sliding into the thick hair at John's groin, before moving to grasp his burgeoning erection as, at the same time, Rodney's gaze slid upwards, capturing John's.

This was new.

This was how Rodney looked at him when he was awake.

~*~

He hadn't expected this when he'd stepped through the Stargate into this fucked up, crazy world. Aliens that literally sucked the life out of you, and a rather sarcastic and bitter scientist who, ten days after arriving here, tried to do the same.

But John had always been fairly adaptable. Especially when it came to getting laid. He hadn't exactly been a stranger to two guys helping each other out in the absence of an attractive woman. Not with some of the hellholes he'd been posted to, where the distance to the nearest accomodating female was measured in hundreds of miles.

But this... okay this was stretching his adaptability. This was stretching him.

"Okay?" Rodney whispered against his shoulder.

"Just. Stay. Still."

It hurt more than he'd thought, but this was Rodney, Rodney who'd kissed him then dropped to his knees and sucked him off in a lab. Rodney who held him at night, snoring and dribbling against his chest.

Rodney, who was fucking him.

He made a sound deep in his throat, flexing and feeling Rodney's flesh hard within him.

"Okay?" Rodney whispered again.

"Just... God, Rodney, move."

~*~

Somehow, he'd always thought that he'd be the one to make the first move. He was the action part of their partnership, after all. Him brawns, McKay brains, or so the theory went. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised, though. The lines were blurred between them - he certainly wasn't lacking in smarts and Rodney... well, Rodney had shown himself to have more than a little GI Joe in him.

And when Rodney took him by surprise, pinning him to a desk and kissing him senseless, he started to think that perhaps, working alongside the military for so long, Rodney may have had a GI Joe in him for real.

He dug his fingers into Rodney's arms, opening his mouth and letting Rodney kiss him like there was no tomorrow, and wondered how Rodney would feel about moving from GI Joe to the airforce.

~*~

"So... here's the thing."

Normally John would have tuned McKay out right about now. On his own mental checklist of 'when to listen to McKay and when not to', this had a number of ticks on the 'not' side of the page. Not in imminent danger of death, not dealing with alien tech.

Not naked.

However, he had to admit that there was something appealing about the way Rodney was walking up and down, waving his hands in the air. It was almost hypnotising. And since they didn't have cable here, and he'd seen every DVD they'd brought with them three times, this was what passed for entertainment.

Rodney turned to face him, his expression resolute. And terrified. Okay, the terrified put a huge tick in the 'yes' box.

"We need to be... exclusive."

He blinked. "Exclusive?"

"Yes, yes. Exclusive." Rodney was back to waving his arms around. "As in no Ford, no Teyla. No Bates. Just you and me."

Rodney wanted to do 'exclusive'?

Rodney thought he was doing Bates?

"Are you listening?"

Bates?

"Major?" That was Rodney's pissed tone, and the fear was still in Rodney's eyes. And wasn't it his job to stop Rodney from being afraid?

He needed to get better at it.

"Works for me."

~*~

In other news, I've been watching Lost finally, which [livejournal.com profile] davechicken copied for me and put on my PC after Christmas, and it's very, very addictive. Consquently I hate everyone on my flist who has tried to pimp it to me.

Good God, people! Was pimping House not enough?
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