We Arrive by Different Streets
Jan. 1st, 2006 07:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rec50Whoo-Hoo! First rec of the Round Two set for me. Here is my Sheppard/McKay table of DOOM recs.
Claim: Stargate Atlantis: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Title: We Arrive by Different Streets
Author: the grrrl (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thegrrrl2002)
Characters: John/Rodney
Prompt: 01 - First Time
Rating: Adult
Length: Long
Brief summary: So, this is a story that has it all. John under the influence revealing things he shouldn't, and interested Rodney, and the two of them hitting the wall of clashing personalities and oppressive environment; there are bits of this that have a more realistic edge. The dialog sparks in this -- one of the thing I really enjoyed was how elliptical John is about his sexuality, even while under the influence-- and the sex is amazingly hot.
Rodney eyed the half-empty tray of food. What the hell, he might as well eat it, no sense saving it. No sense in dying on an empty stomach. Then he froze, as a sound carried down the hallway--a door opening, and heavy, scuffling footsteps.
"What's the hurry? Why are you pushing me?"
John's voice.
The words were strangely slurred, but Rodney's knees went weak--John was okay, he was alive, they hadn't killed him, thank god. They might just get out of this alive after all. "Major," he shouted, dashing up to the clear wall, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
And there John was, handcuffed, swaying in front of the door as the soldiers unlocked it. "Rodney," he exclaimed, grinning stupidly. "Hi." He shrugged a shoulder as if trying to lift an arm--to wave, probably.
"Oh, thank god," Rodney breathed, taking in John's appearance. He appeared to be unharmed--no new bruises, all body parts seemingly intact, nothing bloody or bleeding. Just oddly unsteady, hair more ruffled than usual, but before he could ponder that any further the door opened, and the soldiers immediately pointed their rifles at Rodney. "Oh right, like I'm going to make a run for it," Rodney said. "What did you do to him?"
"He'll be fine," one soldier told him.
John's face grew vague and unfocused as the guards uncuffed him. "Thank you," he nodded. "You're too kind. No really, you are."
The guards silently pushed him into the cell and he fell against Rodney. Rodney grabbed onto him, trying to hold him upright. His body was relaxed, and felt nicely warm, in contrast to the cold damp cell.
"Bye, Bob," John waved. "Bye Fred. Take care. See you soon. Don't be strangers, okay?"
The waving was too much, throwing them both off balance and against the wall. "Rodney!" John said, as if noticing him for the first time. He slid his arm comfortably around Rodney's waist, leaning against the wall to stay upright.
Rodney had been pulled close enough to notice that John's pupils were completely dilated. "Major, are you drugged?"
John nodded. "I think so." He spoke carefully.
Rodney checked John's arms, which was difficult to do, as he seemed to be tangled up inside of them. But yes, right there, on the inside of John's left elbow, the purplish remains of an injection site.
"Oh, wow," John said, staring at his arm. "I remember that now. It hurt."
A growing surge of anger because damn it, they had nothing to hide, and now the Miellians were sticking needles in John and screwing around with his head. And that wasn't right. "What the hell did they give you? Rodney asked. "Sodium pentathol?"
"Maybe." John tilted his head toward Rodney's, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "They wanted to have a talk," he whispered.
"Oh, did they?"
John nodded solemnly.
Despite the situation, Rodney couldn't help but be amused. John seemed to be unharmed, albeit rather endearingly spaced-out. "And did you talk to them?"
John shrugged. "I told them all about surfing, and then football--you know, they don't have football here--the real kind, not that soccer kind." He waved a hand dismissively. "Not either kind. But I don't think that's what they wanted to hear."
Link to the story: We Arrive by Different Streets
Claim: Stargate Atlantis: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Title: We Arrive by Different Streets
Author: the grrrl (
thegrrrl2002)Characters: John/Rodney
Prompt: 01 - First Time
Rating: Adult
Length: Long
Brief summary: So, this is a story that has it all. John under the influence revealing things he shouldn't, and interested Rodney, and the two of them hitting the wall of clashing personalities and oppressive environment; there are bits of this that have a more realistic edge. The dialog sparks in this -- one of the thing I really enjoyed was how elliptical John is about his sexuality, even while under the influence-- and the sex is amazingly hot.
Rodney eyed the half-empty tray of food. What the hell, he might as well eat it, no sense saving it. No sense in dying on an empty stomach. Then he froze, as a sound carried down the hallway--a door opening, and heavy, scuffling footsteps.
"What's the hurry? Why are you pushing me?"
John's voice.
The words were strangely slurred, but Rodney's knees went weak--John was okay, he was alive, they hadn't killed him, thank god. They might just get out of this alive after all. "Major," he shouted, dashing up to the clear wall, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
And there John was, handcuffed, swaying in front of the door as the soldiers unlocked it. "Rodney," he exclaimed, grinning stupidly. "Hi." He shrugged a shoulder as if trying to lift an arm--to wave, probably.
"Oh, thank god," Rodney breathed, taking in John's appearance. He appeared to be unharmed--no new bruises, all body parts seemingly intact, nothing bloody or bleeding. Just oddly unsteady, hair more ruffled than usual, but before he could ponder that any further the door opened, and the soldiers immediately pointed their rifles at Rodney. "Oh right, like I'm going to make a run for it," Rodney said. "What did you do to him?"
"He'll be fine," one soldier told him.
John's face grew vague and unfocused as the guards uncuffed him. "Thank you," he nodded. "You're too kind. No really, you are."
The guards silently pushed him into the cell and he fell against Rodney. Rodney grabbed onto him, trying to hold him upright. His body was relaxed, and felt nicely warm, in contrast to the cold damp cell.
"Bye, Bob," John waved. "Bye Fred. Take care. See you soon. Don't be strangers, okay?"
The waving was too much, throwing them both off balance and against the wall. "Rodney!" John said, as if noticing him for the first time. He slid his arm comfortably around Rodney's waist, leaning against the wall to stay upright.
Rodney had been pulled close enough to notice that John's pupils were completely dilated. "Major, are you drugged?"
John nodded. "I think so." He spoke carefully.
Rodney checked John's arms, which was difficult to do, as he seemed to be tangled up inside of them. But yes, right there, on the inside of John's left elbow, the purplish remains of an injection site.
"Oh, wow," John said, staring at his arm. "I remember that now. It hurt."
A growing surge of anger because damn it, they had nothing to hide, and now the Miellians were sticking needles in John and screwing around with his head. And that wasn't right. "What the hell did they give you? Rodney asked. "Sodium pentathol?"
"Maybe." John tilted his head toward Rodney's, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "They wanted to have a talk," he whispered.
"Oh, did they?"
John nodded solemnly.
Despite the situation, Rodney couldn't help but be amused. John seemed to be unharmed, albeit rather endearingly spaced-out. "And did you talk to them?"
John shrugged. "I told them all about surfing, and then football--you know, they don't have football here--the real kind, not that soccer kind." He waved a hand dismissively. "Not either kind. But I don't think that's what they wanted to hear."
Link to the story: We Arrive by Different Streets
