fic: Recreational [Stargate Atlantis]
Mar. 12th, 2007 10:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenconversesTitle: Recreational
Rating: PG-13
Characters: John Sheppard and Rodney McKay
Summary: “Well, if she had just let me install the grinding rail on the gateroom stairs, I wouldn’t have had to go behind her back about all this.” John, Rodney friendship fic.
Notes: Wrote this instead of my two papers (due in one hour and tomorrow respectively) and the five zillion other fics I started over the weekend. The idea came to me at work today and I wasn't able to rest until it was written.
Rodney snorted. Barely half of the expedition would be able to use Sheppard’s little creation, himself included. He didn’t get his kicks by risking his life for fun.
“And what did Elizabeth think of your ‘outdoor rec room?’”
John colored and he shifted uncomfortably. After spending three years with the man, Rodney knew what that change in body language meant.
“Lemme guess. You haven’t told her yet.”
He at least had the decency to look somewhat guilty.
“Well, if she had just let me install the grinding rail on the gateroom stairs, I wouldn’t have had to go behind her back about all this.”
Which was standard Sheppard bullshit that translated into, “No, I haven’t told her and I expect you to tell her about it instead, Rodney old buddy, because you’re practically irreplaceable and there’s a power hungry bastard on the Daedalus just waiting for me piss Elizabeth off with something stupid like building a skate park on the South Pier and kick me off Atlantis for good. And then maybe you can finally convince her to let you build that indoor ice rink you’ve only requested for seven and half months straight.”
Rodney sighed. The headache was definitely from exasperation.
“She’s not going to be very happy with you. She’s been trying to get the flooded rooms cleaned up in the East Pier for months…speaking of which, where did you find the manpower and the time to build this stupid thing?”
“Oh, that was easy. I told the new recruits from the Daedalus that the faster they finished the half-pipe, the faster they’d be assigned to an off world team.”
Rodney directed his eyes skyward, hating whatever all-powerful crackpot of a deity had cursed him with babysitting Lt. Colonel John Sheppard.
“All right, let’s just see if we can’t spot the humongous gaping logic hole in that plan, shall we?” John frowned at him, his brows knitting together above his glasses. “You spent the last three weeks making your new Marines build you your very own life-size Tony Hawk play set, instead of training them to – oh, I don’t know – survive in the Pegasus Galaxy? Does our new strategy also involve teaching the Wraith how to build birdhouses in Atlantis Woodshop 101?”
“Relax, McKay. We had a training session on the mainland three days ago.”
“Well, that makes me feel so much better,” he replied, “I will blame you when one of my scientists dies because one of those unfortunate Marines tried to defend him with a staple gun.”
“So says the instigator of the Build Your Own Dance Dance Revolution Console Incident,” John said casually, adjusting his sunglasses. “Didn’t you use your science minions to squirrel away parts and sabotage Kusanagi’s machine when they could've been doing something useful like cleaning up the East Pier?”
“That wasn’t – I didn’t – ” Rodney floundered, knowing John had him there. The terrible results of the DDR contest had taken weeks to sort through and Kusanagi was still leaving him threat messages in his ramen noodles. He flushed and changed the subject. “Completely different situation. At least DDR didn’t result in broken necks like this thing will.”
He scuffed the ramp with his shoe empathetically.
“Ronon looked like he was about to break your neck after you beat him in DDR.”
Of course he had to bring that up too.
“How is it my fault that that Wookie lost? Just because I knew the rules and had better hand/eye coordination – ”
“You always let the Wookie win, McKay, and you most definitely do not attempt an ‘In Your Face’ victory dance afterwards. Did Han Solo teach you nothing?” John replied, moving his skateboard until it was half over the edge of the ramp. “’Sides, I won’t break my neck. I’ve been doing this for years.”
“When’s the last time you actually went skateboarding, Sheppard?” When the man actually paused to think about it, Rodney grew worried. “There is no way in hell that you are getting on that thing because I will not carry your broken body all the way back to the infirmary and then explain to Elizabeth why her chief military officer died while attempting some stupid punk trick on a half-pipe that appeared on the South Pier overnight – ”
“McKay,” John said warningly, cutting him off. He pulled his sunglasses off and fixed him with a serious stare. “I will be fine. Trust me on this one, ‘kay?”
Sometimes Rodney wished he didn’t give in so easily to John’s stupid ideas, but once that dim light bulb went on in his head, there was no stopping him.
And this was the man that had attacked a ten thousand year old Wraith with a pocketknife and nearly blew himself up (several times) for the sake of Atlantis, after all. Surely a poorly constructed wood ramp couldn’t hurt him too badly...?
Rodney stepped away and put his hand over his eyes, listening for the crash.
The things they did for simple recreation around here.
Enjoy! Off to write papers, hopefully before I zonk out from the time change!
Rating: PG-13
Characters: John Sheppard and Rodney McKay
Summary: “Well, if she had just let me install the grinding rail on the gateroom stairs, I wouldn’t have had to go behind her back about all this.” John, Rodney friendship fic.
Notes: Wrote this instead of my two papers (due in one hour and tomorrow respectively) and the five zillion other fics I started over the weekend. The idea came to me at work today and I wasn't able to rest until it was written.
Recreational
Rodney couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on as he stared at sloping bottom of the wooden ramp twenty-five feet below him. Whether it was out of exasperation or sheer nerves, he hadn’t yet decided.
“So this is why you stole my best engineers for three weeks? Whatever happened to the ‘important modifications’ to the South Pier decks or the ‘structural’ work you told me you would be doing, huh? You are such a liar.”
John turned to him, tinted frames glinting in the alien sunlight, as he maneuvered the skateboard under his foot.
“So I twisted the truth a bit,” he said unapologetically. “It doesn’t change the fact that you still believed me.”
“Because you made it sound beneficial to the expedition’s needs – ”
“An outdoor rec room is beneficial to the expedition, McKay. It’s a morale booster and it gets people like you outdoors.”
Rodney snorted. Barely half of the expedition would be able to use Sheppard’s little creation, himself included. He didn’t get his kicks by risking his life for fun.
“And what did Elizabeth think of your ‘outdoor rec room?’”
John colored and he shifted uncomfortably. After spending three years with the man, Rodney knew what that change in body language meant.
“Lemme guess. You haven’t told her yet.”
He at least had the decency to look somewhat guilty.
“Well, if she had just let me install the grinding rail on the gateroom stairs, I wouldn’t have had to go behind her back about all this.”
Which was standard Sheppard bullshit that translated into, “No, I haven’t told her and I expect you to tell her about it instead, Rodney old buddy, because you’re practically irreplaceable and there’s a power hungry bastard on the Daedalus just waiting for me piss Elizabeth off with something stupid like building a skate park on the South Pier and kick me off Atlantis for good. And then maybe you can finally convince her to let you build that indoor ice rink you’ve only requested for seven and half months straight.”
Rodney sighed. The headache was definitely from exasperation.
“She’s not going to be very happy with you. She’s been trying to get the flooded rooms cleaned up in the East Pier for months…speaking of which, where did you find the manpower and the time to build this stupid thing?”
“Oh, that was easy. I told the new recruits from the Daedalus that the faster they finished the half-pipe, the faster they’d be assigned to an off world team.”
Rodney directed his eyes skyward, hating whatever all-powerful crackpot of a deity had cursed him with babysitting Lt. Colonel John Sheppard.
“All right, let’s just see if we can’t spot the humongous gaping logic hole in that plan, shall we?” John frowned at him, his brows knitting together above his glasses. “You spent the last three weeks making your new Marines build you your very own life-size Tony Hawk play set, instead of training them to – oh, I don’t know – survive in the Pegasus Galaxy? Does our new strategy also involve teaching the Wraith how to build birdhouses in Atlantis Woodshop 101?”
“Relax, McKay. We had a training session on the mainland three days ago.”
“Well, that makes me feel so much better,” he replied, “I will blame you when one of my scientists dies because one of those unfortunate Marines tried to defend him with a staple gun.”
“So says the instigator of the Build Your Own Dance Dance Revolution Console Incident,” John said casually, adjusting his sunglasses. “Didn’t you use your science minions to squirrel away parts and sabotage Kusanagi’s machine when they could've been doing something useful like cleaning up the East Pier?”
“That wasn’t – I didn’t – ” Rodney floundered, knowing John had him there. The terrible results of the DDR contest had taken weeks to sort through and Kusanagi was still leaving him threat messages in his ramen noodles. He flushed and changed the subject. “Completely different situation. At least DDR didn’t result in broken necks like this thing will.”
He scuffed the ramp with his shoe empathetically.
“Ronon looked like he was about to break your neck after you beat him in DDR.”
Of course he had to bring that up too.
“How is it my fault that that Wookie lost? Just because I knew the rules and had better hand/eye coordination – ”
“You always let the Wookie win, McKay, and you most definitely do not attempt an ‘In Your Face’ victory dance afterwards. Did Han Solo teach you nothing?” John replied, moving his skateboard until it was half over the edge of the ramp. “’Sides, I won’t break my neck. I’ve been doing this for years.”
“When’s the last time you actually went skateboarding, Sheppard?” When the man actually paused to think about it, Rodney grew worried. “There is no way in hell that you are getting on that thing because I will not carry your broken body all the way back to the infirmary and then explain to Elizabeth why her chief military officer died while attempting some stupid punk trick on a half-pipe that appeared on the South Pier overnight – ”
“McKay,” John said warningly, cutting him off. He pulled his sunglasses off and fixed him with a serious stare. “I will be fine. Trust me on this one, ‘kay?”
Sometimes Rodney wished he didn’t give in so easily to John’s stupid ideas, but once that dim light bulb went on in his head, there was no stopping him.
And this was the man that had attacked a ten thousand year old Wraith with a pocketknife and nearly blew himself up (several times) for the sake of Atlantis, after all. Surely a poorly constructed wood ramp couldn’t hurt him too badly...?
Rodney stepped away and put his hand over his eyes, listening for the crash.
The things they did for simple recreation around here.
Enjoy! Off to write papers, hopefully before I zonk out from the time change!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 07:42 am (UTC)Loved it!
Although now I feel vastly inadequate to writing humour-fic.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 12:20 pm (UTC)Pretty much how I feel whenever you post a sparkly new fic for our fannish consumption. ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-20 08:35 pm (UTC)