danceswithgary: (McShep - A Hand Apart)
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Title: SGA Saturday Anniversary Amnesty Drabbles Prompts 1-10
Author: danceswithgary
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: G to R
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 10x100
Summary: A set of unrelated drabbles created based on the weekly prompts for SGA Saturday.

For week #1: Coffee

Good Morning

John had had started making his plans weeks ago, shortly after reading through Rodney's personnel file. Along with proof that Rodney really was as smart as he claimed to be, and that he'd spent some time in exile like John, John had noted Rodney's birthday. With Atlantis still cut off from Earth, the pickings were slim when it came to gifts, so John had to use creative bartering to get what he needed.

Being able to wake Rodney up with a kiss - before presenting him with fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and the best coffee John could finesse- was an unexpected bonus.

For week #2: Rain

Long Trudge Home

Thick, black mud threatens to take Rodney's boots hostage with each slogging step, its heavy weight dragging at the end of exhausted legs. His arrhythmic stumbling pounds out 'hot bath, hot bath' punctuated by splashes through puddles, which seems counterintuitive considering the amount of water streaming from the sky, the surrounding trees, and his clothes.

John's voice cuts through Rodney's waterlogged haze. "Almost there, buddy. You okay?"

It's too much trouble to do anything but nod, but then there's a supporting hand under his elbow. Blinking sodden eyelashes, Rodney offers a grateful smile, 'hot bath with John' his new cadence.

For week #3: Conduit

High Voltage

A cascade of sparks follows every pass of Rodney's hand, the electric sting awakening every piece of naked flesh it grazes. John arches into each searing erotic caress, whimpering against his restraints, dreading yet straining for more. Rodney ignores the begging, intent on his own inexplicable plan for John's pleasurable pain.

Rodney thinks higher at the device in his palm, earning a harsh, "Fuck," for the arc that snaps against John's nipple. With a wicked grin, Rodney trails down to circle the tip of John's cock with a shimmer of violet-tipped current, triggering a groaning explosion.

Then Rodney begins again.

For week #4: Orange


"Why is this happening?" Rodney turned away from the mirror to frown in John's direction. "I drank the purple punch thing because you said the other one had citrus in it."

John nodded. "And you drank a lot of it. You should be looking like Violette Beaureguard, not an Oompa Loompa."

"Willy Wonka? Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp?"

"Wilder all the way. He owned bug-eyed crazy." John smirked as he tugged a reluctant Rodney out of the bathroom. "Come on, Carson might have something to remove a fake tan."

"He'd better. I'd rather not have my skin match my fleece."

For week #5: Sense


Bereft of light, all sound subdued deep underground, they feel their way around rough-hewn dungeon walls to reach each other, hands outstretched to touch fingertips, grasp hands, and then cling tight. The scent of coffee and burnt wiring anchors John in the crook of Rodney's neck while Rodney rests against John's shoulder after a whiskery rasp across his lips.

An immeasurable time later, they blink under harsh lemon-scented sunlight, birdsong and laughter sharp across their skin, too many bodies too close, sour against parched tongues. Freed, declared well enough, Rodney's room is their refuge, safe together beneath soft, clean blankets.

For week #6: Pariah

Deep Coventry

Exiled yet again, because that's how the SGC handles geniuses who don't fit inside its narrow-minded boxes of behavior, Rodney paces along a catwalk overlooking his latest set of incompetent minions. Icing over, frozen by his isolation, he stabs his cell phone's buttons in search of warmth he can't find in the desert so many stories above.

"Hey, buddy."

"I swear zombies would starve in this place."

"Nice. I'm about to leave for the airport. Need something?"

"I'm pretty sure you'll be bringing it with you."

John's low chuckle begins a thaw.

"I'll be there in a couple of hours."

For week #7: Launch

From Below

"I christen thee, The Lady Meredith." John sprinkled a few drops of his beer on the bow of the four-foot-long schooner bobbing in the gentler waves off the mainland point before pushing a button to send the boat gliding forward.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Nice way to say thank you for the very cool remote-control boat I built you."

"It's considered an honor." John tugged Rodney close to demonstrate how grateful he was. Lifting his head a minute later, John checked the schooner's position. "She's beaut… fuck! That thing just ate my boat!"

"You are never surfing out here again."

For week #8: Rare

Precious Commodity

"Do you know how many gate destinations are in this galaxy and yet five was all Janus gave the other Elizabeth for ZPM's?" Rodney's hands waved erratically as he stomped around his room, and John retreated to the bed to keep out of the way. "They had the technology to make them, but I can't find it in what we've laughably labeled a database." He plopped on the bed with a discouraged sigh. "They had them and lost. We're never going to win against the Wraith."

"You're wrong." John pinned Rodney, kissing quiet his protests. "The Ancients didn't have you."

For week #9: Bow

Pointed Lesson

"I'll run, Ronon can take the wrestling, and Teyla is a shoe-in for the bantos competition."

John clapped his hands to signal the end of the assignments and that they were ready to go, but then Rodney interjected with a tentative, "The more points we accumulate the better. I can try the archery. It's been a while but…."

"Not something I'd figure you for." John tipped his head quizzically. "It's a sport."

"I had to take something, and it wasn't going to be with the jocks." Rodney shrugged and then grinned. "Besides, all the girls signed up for it too."

For week #10: Spartan

Simple Pleasures

"Hey, are these…?" Rodney plucked a bright-red apple from a bowl and held it up for Jeannie, who nodded.

John grabbed one for closer inspection. "You telling me you don't recognize an apple, buddy?"

"They're Spartans, Canadian apples," Rodney informed him with a grin before raising the apple high and shouting, "Sparta!"

Jeannie snatched back both apples with a sigh. "And they're for pie. Now go amuse Madison while I bake."

Later that night, Jeannie tiptoed downstairs to spy on her brother and his boyfriend as they decimated the leftover pie, their forks held high, whisper-shouting with each bite, "Sparta!"

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters herein. The characters of Rodney McKay and John Sheppard as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and MGM Television/Sony Pictures Television/Associated Production Companies. Any deviation (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.

Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.

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