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SGA - Coming to Terms
First new story of the new year!
Title: Coming to Terms
Genre: SGA, Gen
Rating: PG-13
Season/Spoilers: Season 4, shortly after “Reunion”
Synopsis: Ronon and Carter come to an understanding.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from the experience.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Ronon, got a minute?” Carter asked, stepping into the gym. The only other person working out paused, looked at her with wide eyes, and quickly stepped out.
He turned around to face her, surprised to see her in what could only be described as workout attire: a sleeveless shirt and pants made out of the material the Marines favored, only hers were emblazoned with the letters USAF. Her long hair was pulled back in the style Teyla preferred, the tail swinging over her shoulders. All in all, she had a fairly impressive build, more so than what he would have expected given her current job pushing papers.
He put down the stick he had been practicing with, wiping damp hands on his own simple cloth trousers. “What did you need?” he asked, purposefully not using her title or any sign of rank. As far as he was concerned, she had not earned it yet. Aside from the rescue in the Wraith lab, which she needed to be talked into, she had not done much since she arrived.
“You and I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” she started. He agreed, but also knew neither one of them were going to admit they were at fault. “I know you listen to Sheppard, and I know you know he listens to me, for the most part,” she continued.
He nodded, biting back a grin. He listened to Sheppard about as much as Sheppard listened to her, which is to say when it went along with what he wanted to do anyway or was for the good of the people of the city. “He’s earned my trust,” was all he said.
“He’s earned your respect,” she corrected, and was not wrong. “I’d like the chance to do the same.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprised she came right out and said it. “How do you propose to do that?” he inquired, having a fairly clear idea where this was going.
She seemed thoughtful for a moment as she mused, “Well, the last time I had to do this, I offered to arm wrestle, but I’m not sure that will mean much to you.” A sly smile came over her face as she finally got to the point and suggested, “So this time I’m offering to do it in what I believe you called ‘The Satedan Way’.”
“You want to fight me?” he clarified.
“I want to challenge you,” she corrected.
He smiled, stepping onto the mat. “You’re on,” he agreed. He watched as she kicked off her shoes, tucking her socks and radio to the side. She joined him on the mat and easily assumed the ready position. “Ladies first,” he offered, purposely leaving a side open with his wide gesture.
She didn’t buy it. “Then, by all means, start,” she baited with a brief tilt of her head.
He swung forward, not surprised that she blocked the attempt. He was, however, a bit surprised at the force used to block the attempt. Determined to not let it show, he commented, “You know, Weir never would have agreed to this.”
The slight narrowing of her eyes was her only give as to the effect his words had on her. “I’m not Weir,” she said calmly. She swung out, but it was a feint, her other arm coming up and around and her fist landing solidly against the side of his head as she moved around him. She followed through with a kick that landed solidly on his ass.
“No, you’re not,” he agreed, regaining his footing. He hit out, connecting with her spine as she turned away at the last moment. He slid his foot forward, intending to trip her, but she stepped over it and used it against him, nearly costing him his balance before he landed another blow. “You’re also not quite what you seem,” he commented. He was impressed. He did not want to be.
She shrugged, wiping away a bit of blood from the corner of her mouth. “Let’s just say I have some experience,” she said, launching into another volley of hits.
“Like ten years on a gate team fighting Goa’uld?” a voice questioned. Ronon spared a glance towards the door, not surprised to see Sheppard and McKay blocking the entrance, before starting his own attack.
“Not to mention the naquada in her blood from being implanted,” Rodney scoffed.
“Might help with the strength thing,” Sheppard agreed. Ronon was no longer looking at him, but could tell from the sound of his voice he was mildly surprised at the information.
“We’re still not sure what the lasting effects are,” McKay admitted.
Ronon narrowed his eyes. “You had one of those snake things in you?” he demanded, wondering if the trust that was starting was misplaced. He tried to remember what Sheppard called it. “A Goa’uld?”
“Tok’ra,” Carter corrected, fist connecting with his jaw. Her knuckles were bloodied, but so was his lip, so he figured they were even.
“Oh, close enough,” McKay protested.
“Not really,” the woman insisted between blows.
“It’s an alien that burrows into your brain and controls you, tell me how that’s not different,” the scientist was complaining.
“There’s the whole Goa’uld try to pretend their gods and the Tok’ra try to pretend to kill them thing,” Sheppard pointed out.
Ronon made the mental connection. Goa’uld = Bad. Tok’ra = Fights the Bad. “You still have it?” he asked, ducking a punch.
She shook her head. “No,” she answered, and he was relieved to hear her slightly out of breath. “She died to save me.” Her sly smile came back as she added, “Did teach me this though.” He honestly was not certain what she did, only that it ended with him flat on his back. He levered himself up and continued the fight.
“Surely there is a better way to come to terms?” a new voice entered. Teyla. There was a slight rustle as she pushed her way through her two teammates and closer to the mat.
“No,” he answered, at the same time hearing Carter’s, “Not really.”
There was a put upon sigh followed by, “Very well.” He half expected her to try to stop them, but smiled when he saw her sit down on one of the benches, looking bored.
After several more minutes of fighting, McKay asked, “Just how long were you two planning on doing this?”
“I believe until one of them relents,” Sheppard answered.
“Oh, so for a while then?” came the response. “Should have brought popcorn.”
He could see that she was tiring, her attempts becoming slightly more sloppy, the force behind them diminishing. “You want to stop?” he asked.
“It would be the smart thing to do,” she said, punching him in the stomach.
“Yeah, it would,” he agreed, grabbing her and flipping her down to the mat. She lay there, dazed for a moment, her eyes refocusing on his outstretched hand. “Good fight, Carter,” he complimented, pulling her to her feet and giving her an out.
She shook a kink out of her shoulder and nodded towards their still grasped hands. “Call me Sam.”
He returned the gesture with a smile that stretched his split lip. “You fight dirty.”
“Thank you!” she beamed.
Teyla approached, offering them each a towel. “May I suggest a visit to Doctor Keller?” she asked as both were taken from her hands.
“She loves it when we spar,” Ronon confided, earning another smile from Carter, Sam, and an eye roll from his teammate. He wiped the sweat from his face, knowing he was staining the white red, and watching as she did the same.
He was determined not to limp as they made their way to the door. Sam bumped against him saying, “After she clears us, meet me on the South pier and we can do this the Air Force way.”
He was about to ask what she meant, but McKay answered for him, complaining, “Great, not only are they both going to have brain damage, their going for liver damage now, too.”
Ronon ignored him from long experience, grinning as he agreed, “Sounds like a plan.”
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Title: Coming to Terms
Genre: SGA, Gen
Rating: PG-13
Season/Spoilers: Season 4, shortly after “Reunion”
Synopsis: Ronon and Carter come to an understanding.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from the experience.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Ronon, got a minute?” Carter asked, stepping into the gym. The only other person working out paused, looked at her with wide eyes, and quickly stepped out.
He turned around to face her, surprised to see her in what could only be described as workout attire: a sleeveless shirt and pants made out of the material the Marines favored, only hers were emblazoned with the letters USAF. Her long hair was pulled back in the style Teyla preferred, the tail swinging over her shoulders. All in all, she had a fairly impressive build, more so than what he would have expected given her current job pushing papers.
He put down the stick he had been practicing with, wiping damp hands on his own simple cloth trousers. “What did you need?” he asked, purposefully not using her title or any sign of rank. As far as he was concerned, she had not earned it yet. Aside from the rescue in the Wraith lab, which she needed to be talked into, she had not done much since she arrived.
“You and I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” she started. He agreed, but also knew neither one of them were going to admit they were at fault. “I know you listen to Sheppard, and I know you know he listens to me, for the most part,” she continued.
He nodded, biting back a grin. He listened to Sheppard about as much as Sheppard listened to her, which is to say when it went along with what he wanted to do anyway or was for the good of the people of the city. “He’s earned my trust,” was all he said.
“He’s earned your respect,” she corrected, and was not wrong. “I’d like the chance to do the same.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprised she came right out and said it. “How do you propose to do that?” he inquired, having a fairly clear idea where this was going.
She seemed thoughtful for a moment as she mused, “Well, the last time I had to do this, I offered to arm wrestle, but I’m not sure that will mean much to you.” A sly smile came over her face as she finally got to the point and suggested, “So this time I’m offering to do it in what I believe you called ‘The Satedan Way’.”
“You want to fight me?” he clarified.
“I want to challenge you,” she corrected.
He smiled, stepping onto the mat. “You’re on,” he agreed. He watched as she kicked off her shoes, tucking her socks and radio to the side. She joined him on the mat and easily assumed the ready position. “Ladies first,” he offered, purposely leaving a side open with his wide gesture.
She didn’t buy it. “Then, by all means, start,” she baited with a brief tilt of her head.
He swung forward, not surprised that she blocked the attempt. He was, however, a bit surprised at the force used to block the attempt. Determined to not let it show, he commented, “You know, Weir never would have agreed to this.”
The slight narrowing of her eyes was her only give as to the effect his words had on her. “I’m not Weir,” she said calmly. She swung out, but it was a feint, her other arm coming up and around and her fist landing solidly against the side of his head as she moved around him. She followed through with a kick that landed solidly on his ass.
“No, you’re not,” he agreed, regaining his footing. He hit out, connecting with her spine as she turned away at the last moment. He slid his foot forward, intending to trip her, but she stepped over it and used it against him, nearly costing him his balance before he landed another blow. “You’re also not quite what you seem,” he commented. He was impressed. He did not want to be.
She shrugged, wiping away a bit of blood from the corner of her mouth. “Let’s just say I have some experience,” she said, launching into another volley of hits.
“Like ten years on a gate team fighting Goa’uld?” a voice questioned. Ronon spared a glance towards the door, not surprised to see Sheppard and McKay blocking the entrance, before starting his own attack.
“Not to mention the naquada in her blood from being implanted,” Rodney scoffed.
“Might help with the strength thing,” Sheppard agreed. Ronon was no longer looking at him, but could tell from the sound of his voice he was mildly surprised at the information.
“We’re still not sure what the lasting effects are,” McKay admitted.
Ronon narrowed his eyes. “You had one of those snake things in you?” he demanded, wondering if the trust that was starting was misplaced. He tried to remember what Sheppard called it. “A Goa’uld?”
“Tok’ra,” Carter corrected, fist connecting with his jaw. Her knuckles were bloodied, but so was his lip, so he figured they were even.
“Oh, close enough,” McKay protested.
“Not really,” the woman insisted between blows.
“It’s an alien that burrows into your brain and controls you, tell me how that’s not different,” the scientist was complaining.
“There’s the whole Goa’uld try to pretend their gods and the Tok’ra try to pretend to kill them thing,” Sheppard pointed out.
Ronon made the mental connection. Goa’uld = Bad. Tok’ra = Fights the Bad. “You still have it?” he asked, ducking a punch.
She shook her head. “No,” she answered, and he was relieved to hear her slightly out of breath. “She died to save me.” Her sly smile came back as she added, “Did teach me this though.” He honestly was not certain what she did, only that it ended with him flat on his back. He levered himself up and continued the fight.
“Surely there is a better way to come to terms?” a new voice entered. Teyla. There was a slight rustle as she pushed her way through her two teammates and closer to the mat.
“No,” he answered, at the same time hearing Carter’s, “Not really.”
There was a put upon sigh followed by, “Very well.” He half expected her to try to stop them, but smiled when he saw her sit down on one of the benches, looking bored.
After several more minutes of fighting, McKay asked, “Just how long were you two planning on doing this?”
“I believe until one of them relents,” Sheppard answered.
“Oh, so for a while then?” came the response. “Should have brought popcorn.”
He could see that she was tiring, her attempts becoming slightly more sloppy, the force behind them diminishing. “You want to stop?” he asked.
“It would be the smart thing to do,” she said, punching him in the stomach.
“Yeah, it would,” he agreed, grabbing her and flipping her down to the mat. She lay there, dazed for a moment, her eyes refocusing on his outstretched hand. “Good fight, Carter,” he complimented, pulling her to her feet and giving her an out.
She shook a kink out of her shoulder and nodded towards their still grasped hands. “Call me Sam.”
He returned the gesture with a smile that stretched his split lip. “You fight dirty.”
“Thank you!” she beamed.
Teyla approached, offering them each a towel. “May I suggest a visit to Doctor Keller?” she asked as both were taken from her hands.
“She loves it when we spar,” Ronon confided, earning another smile from Carter, Sam, and an eye roll from his teammate. He wiped the sweat from his face, knowing he was staining the white red, and watching as she did the same.
He was determined not to limp as they made their way to the door. Sam bumped against him saying, “After she clears us, meet me on the South pier and we can do this the Air Force way.”
He was about to ask what she meant, but McKay answered for him, complaining, “Great, not only are they both going to have brain damage, their going for liver damage now, too.”
Ronon ignored him from long experience, grinning as he agreed, “Sounds like a plan.”
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
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