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SGA - Triptych: Duo
This idea came to me shortly after the episode was aired, but I didn't get around to finishing it until now. Three stories, all inter-related, all dealing with the aftermath of the episode. Needless to say, there will be spoilers.
Trio Triptych
Three short stories focusing on the aftermath of the SGA episode “Trio”.
- Duo (McKay and Sheppard) Slash
- ‘Twined (Keller and Ronon) Het
- Double (Sam and Teyla) Femslash that’s more Friendship than Slash
Rating: PG-13 (all)
Synopsis: They are not alone. AKA the Trio becomes a Sextet.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they belong to people with far more money than me. I am only borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Duo – McKay and Sheppard
~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney stumbled back to his room in a daze. Keller had cut him off after two beers but, with the pain meds he was on, it had been more than enough. Technically, he had not lived up to his part of the bargain of buying her a beer. Technically, he got as close as he could get in this little outpost/huge Ancient city they lived in.
When Sam Carter took charge, she made the rounds, found the stills, and found the stashes of local hooch. She then had a team find a safe spot and set up an official pub. Her reasoning was clear: everyone was drinking anyway as one of the limited forms of stress relief available, might as well not make people feel guilty about it. The threat that came with that reasoning was even clearer: the first person to abuse this was to be booted through the wormhole, and she might remember to check the address for the Midway Station first.
So, he and Doctor Keller, who insisted he call her Jennifer or Jen off duty, sat at one of the tables and drank. Word had gotten around about their little adventure, and some kind Marines had dipped into the secret (and possibly locked) stash of Molson’s for him and Leinenkugel’s for her. They regaled the few people there with their story, Keller being nice enough to not mention the disaster with the makeshift grappling hook and he being kind enough to not mention her willingness to strip. The “bar trick” as she called it was a hit, and earned them both another round.
After his second and her third drink, he thanked her in his own awkward manner. She had patted his cheek with her bandaged hand and told him it was the least she could do considering he saved her life. He knew he had blushed at that, fair Canadian skin and all, which had led her to a conversation about friendship and how it was okay to get along in a non-romantic manner with someone of the opposite sex, really it was. She promised to show him the ropes, so to speak, and also promised not to sic Ronon on him, before sending him off to his own quarters before he passed out from exhaustion at the table.
He got there wanting nothing more than to lie down and pass out. This may or may not involve removing his boots and clothing first, he had not decided yet. Instead, sitting and waiting for him at the edge of his bed, was John, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and looking decidedly off duty. He also looked like he had been there for a while. The Colonel’s head shot up when he entered, an expectant look on his face.
Rodney shook his head, staggering over to his desk, using the chair for support as he kicked off his shoes. “Ugh, no talk, tired,” he mumbled, hoping his well-meaning intruder would get the point and let him pass out in peace.
It was not to be.
“I heard what happened,” Sheppard started.
“Then you know I’m exhausted and need to sleep,” Rodney countered, trying to figure out how he could get to his bed without falling on his ass.
John pushed himself up off the bed and moved to stand beside him. “I know you’ve got to hurt,” he said, resting a hand just above the bandages.
“That’s what the painkillers and alcohol are for,” Rodney pointed out. Musing more to himself than to his companion, he added, “Though, maybe I shouldn’t have had alcohol so I could have more painkillers...”
“Christ, Rodney,” John sighed, close enough he could feel his breath. “You know better than to drink and take pills,” he chided.
“Keller said it was okay!” he protested. He figured if the CMO was fine with it, he should be too.
“Keller’s from Wisconsin,” Sheppard countered, which was a good point. The bar to populace ratio there was explained to him once by one of Lorne’s Marines, who seemed to be in awe of such a figure.
“She stopped me after two,” he said feebly. He felt John nod behind him and, oddly enough, that seemed to be his breaking point. Slumping into his lover and trusting him to take the weight, he finally admitted, “I hurt.” Another consoling nod. “A lot.”
“I know,” John whispered, wrapping his arms around him. He seemed content to listen, and Rodney was content to talk, so it all worked out.
“I caught her. It was a complete and total fluke, but I caught her and I didn’t let go,” Rodney babbled. “And then she found the way out and I got her down to it and then there was Sam and her broken leg and crap it hurt but I couldn’t leave her behind – she wanted me to but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. And then I had to climb down and I was so tired, so very tired, and the rope broke just when Keller grabbed me and then the room fell, and that was before we even got back up to the surface and...”
“I know,” John repeated, holding him a bit tighter. It hurt, pulling at his abused muscles, and the thoughts of ligament damage and infection from that filthy, filthy place swam through his mind, but it still felt good, felt solid, felt whole.
He looked down at his hands, staring at the red-brown flecks soaking through the pristine white bandages, thinking of how he saved not one but two lives today with them, thinking of how they were better suited to typing and programming than such an arduous task, and thinking about how even if he had nerve damage, it was probably worth it if it meant Carter and Keller were safe and alive.
Sheppard seemed to pick up on his line of thoughts, pressing his lips to his temple and murmuring, “You did good, Rodney. You did good.”
After that, he let himself be pulled gently to the bed, still staring at his hands as John wrapped himself around him, letting the warmth seep into his aching body, not knowing which one of them was shaking, and not really caring either. He was going to hurt like hell in the morning but, as he pillowed his head on his lover’s bony chest, it didn’t really matter. He was here, John was here, and the morning held the promise of another dose of painkillers, and maybe even a massage if he played his cards right. Surprisingly, he found he could live with that.
~~~~~~~~~~
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bestbi wrote me a sequel! With the back rub! And, er, more!
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Trio Triptych
Three short stories focusing on the aftermath of the SGA episode “Trio”.
- Duo (McKay and Sheppard) Slash
- ‘Twined (Keller and Ronon) Het
- Double (Sam and Teyla) Femslash that’s more Friendship than Slash
Rating: PG-13 (all)
Synopsis: They are not alone. AKA the Trio becomes a Sextet.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they belong to people with far more money than me. I am only borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Duo – McKay and Sheppard
~~~~~~~~~~
Rodney stumbled back to his room in a daze. Keller had cut him off after two beers but, with the pain meds he was on, it had been more than enough. Technically, he had not lived up to his part of the bargain of buying her a beer. Technically, he got as close as he could get in this little outpost/huge Ancient city they lived in.
When Sam Carter took charge, she made the rounds, found the stills, and found the stashes of local hooch. She then had a team find a safe spot and set up an official pub. Her reasoning was clear: everyone was drinking anyway as one of the limited forms of stress relief available, might as well not make people feel guilty about it. The threat that came with that reasoning was even clearer: the first person to abuse this was to be booted through the wormhole, and she might remember to check the address for the Midway Station first.
So, he and Doctor Keller, who insisted he call her Jennifer or Jen off duty, sat at one of the tables and drank. Word had gotten around about their little adventure, and some kind Marines had dipped into the secret (and possibly locked) stash of Molson’s for him and Leinenkugel’s for her. They regaled the few people there with their story, Keller being nice enough to not mention the disaster with the makeshift grappling hook and he being kind enough to not mention her willingness to strip. The “bar trick” as she called it was a hit, and earned them both another round.
After his second and her third drink, he thanked her in his own awkward manner. She had patted his cheek with her bandaged hand and told him it was the least she could do considering he saved her life. He knew he had blushed at that, fair Canadian skin and all, which had led her to a conversation about friendship and how it was okay to get along in a non-romantic manner with someone of the opposite sex, really it was. She promised to show him the ropes, so to speak, and also promised not to sic Ronon on him, before sending him off to his own quarters before he passed out from exhaustion at the table.
He got there wanting nothing more than to lie down and pass out. This may or may not involve removing his boots and clothing first, he had not decided yet. Instead, sitting and waiting for him at the edge of his bed, was John, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and looking decidedly off duty. He also looked like he had been there for a while. The Colonel’s head shot up when he entered, an expectant look on his face.
Rodney shook his head, staggering over to his desk, using the chair for support as he kicked off his shoes. “Ugh, no talk, tired,” he mumbled, hoping his well-meaning intruder would get the point and let him pass out in peace.
It was not to be.
“I heard what happened,” Sheppard started.
“Then you know I’m exhausted and need to sleep,” Rodney countered, trying to figure out how he could get to his bed without falling on his ass.
John pushed himself up off the bed and moved to stand beside him. “I know you’ve got to hurt,” he said, resting a hand just above the bandages.
“That’s what the painkillers and alcohol are for,” Rodney pointed out. Musing more to himself than to his companion, he added, “Though, maybe I shouldn’t have had alcohol so I could have more painkillers...”
“Christ, Rodney,” John sighed, close enough he could feel his breath. “You know better than to drink and take pills,” he chided.
“Keller said it was okay!” he protested. He figured if the CMO was fine with it, he should be too.
“Keller’s from Wisconsin,” Sheppard countered, which was a good point. The bar to populace ratio there was explained to him once by one of Lorne’s Marines, who seemed to be in awe of such a figure.
“She stopped me after two,” he said feebly. He felt John nod behind him and, oddly enough, that seemed to be his breaking point. Slumping into his lover and trusting him to take the weight, he finally admitted, “I hurt.” Another consoling nod. “A lot.”
“I know,” John whispered, wrapping his arms around him. He seemed content to listen, and Rodney was content to talk, so it all worked out.
“I caught her. It was a complete and total fluke, but I caught her and I didn’t let go,” Rodney babbled. “And then she found the way out and I got her down to it and then there was Sam and her broken leg and crap it hurt but I couldn’t leave her behind – she wanted me to but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. And then I had to climb down and I was so tired, so very tired, and the rope broke just when Keller grabbed me and then the room fell, and that was before we even got back up to the surface and...”
“I know,” John repeated, holding him a bit tighter. It hurt, pulling at his abused muscles, and the thoughts of ligament damage and infection from that filthy, filthy place swam through his mind, but it still felt good, felt solid, felt whole.
He looked down at his hands, staring at the red-brown flecks soaking through the pristine white bandages, thinking of how he saved not one but two lives today with them, thinking of how they were better suited to typing and programming than such an arduous task, and thinking about how even if he had nerve damage, it was probably worth it if it meant Carter and Keller were safe and alive.
Sheppard seemed to pick up on his line of thoughts, pressing his lips to his temple and murmuring, “You did good, Rodney. You did good.”
After that, he let himself be pulled gently to the bed, still staring at his hands as John wrapped himself around him, letting the warmth seep into his aching body, not knowing which one of them was shaking, and not really caring either. He was going to hurt like hell in the morning but, as he pillowed his head on his lover’s bony chest, it didn’t really matter. He was here, John was here, and the morning held the promise of another dose of painkillers, and maybe even a massage if he played his cards right. Surprisingly, he found he could live with that.
~~~~~~~~~~
bestbi wrote me a sequel! With the back rub! And, er, more!~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
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“Keller’s from Wisconsin,” Sheppard countered, which was a good point. The bar to populace ratio there was explained to him once by one of Lorne’s Marines, who seemed to be in awe of such a figure.
*snerks* that made me laugh for a few minutes. Because it's true. my town has about 16 bars. All within a few minutes walk of each other (my town is spread out roughly over a 1- 1 1/2 square miles). and the painkillers w/meds, well I don't even want to go into that....ahhh Wisconsin..
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Sorry about another Wisconsin dig. On our way to House on the Rock, we passed through several towns that were only a few blocks long, with 2 churches and 5-6 bars each. Puts us Minnesotans to shame. ;)
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*happy sigh* I am such a sucker for them hugging, and that is lovely and tender.
I adore the idea of Sam setting up a pub too!
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Re: Sam - She's been military far too long to think people are going to go without. :)
*waves cheerily*
*snort*
So... just to let you know there are spots along the Eastern seaboard similar to the midwestern areas. ;)
Yummy-delicious fic, hon. Thankee.
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Re: *waves cheerily*
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Re: *waves cheerily*
Re: *waves cheerily*
Thanks!
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(is all nervous)
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