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Dec. 5th, 2008 04:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jendavisTitle: I Am The Weapon (a.k.a. Miles To Go Before we Sleep Together)
Rating: R, Just to be on the safe side.
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Oh, all the way through to the bitter end. Seriously. Pretty much every episode.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drabbles, Episode Tags
Warnings: Unbetaed AND it's the first thing (well, er, things) I've ever written of my own free will.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: They don't always get along...
38 Travelers
Teyla rolled her eyes, John smirked, and Ronon kept eating. It was as deliberately close to normal as things had been in a month, so McKay continued to speculate about sexy aliens and Sheppard's apparent proclivities therein, pretending to barely notice when Ronon picked up his tray, nodded goodbye, and left the table.
He caught Sheppard watching Ronon walk away. It was mostly gone by the time he turned back, but Rodney had since acquired the ability to read, identify, and categorize at least fifteen different shades of Sheppard's guilt, and this didn't look like a particularly new and interesting strain. Not that any of the others had been, either. Not for weeks, now.
Unfortunately, Sheppard knew about Rodney's ability, and the conversation tripped, then stumbled to a halt. The only options were to address the reason behind it, or wish for Zelenka to do something stupid to the power grid that required his immediate attention.
Teyla rose, making a graceful exit that made McKay consider kicking her in the shin, consequences be damned. He glanced down at his tablet, seeing nothing amiss on the city systems display, and wondered what he could rig up without Sheppard noticing.
This was getting ridiculous.
He snorted and set down his fork, because there was no way he could finish eating with all this petty emotional idiocy dripping into his food. Sheppard started, and began picking at his plate, trying to discover the identity of the apparently offensive food, but it all looked safe.
"No, it's not that. What the hell happened, Sheppard?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I raise Weir from the dead using nanites, putting the entire city at risk, blah blah blah, and you and I were back to normal within two weeks. Ronon gets homesick, and the two you go around kicking each other's puppies for a month."
"We're fine." Sheppard shoved some bread into his mouth and chewed. "Also, we don't have any puppies."
"He goes running without you, and you eat in your office if he's here first. Get over it already."
"Don't know what you're getting at, but I'm pretty sure I don't need your advice." Sheppard glared as he packed up his tray and made to leave. McKay considered that, while no inroads had been made, he wasn't sporting a black eye, so it was a tie.
But then he heard Zelenka, cutting in from the next table over, and decided to re-score.
"Actually, Colonel, you may want to consider McKay's point. By the time that he, expert as he is, realizes that someone else besides himself is being jerk, the straits are dire indeed."
Maybe it was a slight win.
39 Tabula Rasa
Rating: R, Just to be on the safe side.
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Oh, all the way through to the bitter end. Seriously. Pretty much every episode.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drabbles, Episode Tags
Warnings: Unbetaed AND it's the first thing (well, er, things) I've ever written of my own free will.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: They don't always get along...
38 Travelers
Teyla rolled her eyes, John smirked, and Ronon kept eating. It was as deliberately close to normal as things had been in a month, so McKay continued to speculate about sexy aliens and Sheppard's apparent proclivities therein, pretending to barely notice when Ronon picked up his tray, nodded goodbye, and left the table.
He caught Sheppard watching Ronon walk away. It was mostly gone by the time he turned back, but Rodney had since acquired the ability to read, identify, and categorize at least fifteen different shades of Sheppard's guilt, and this didn't look like a particularly new and interesting strain. Not that any of the others had been, either. Not for weeks, now.
Unfortunately, Sheppard knew about Rodney's ability, and the conversation tripped, then stumbled to a halt. The only options were to address the reason behind it, or wish for Zelenka to do something stupid to the power grid that required his immediate attention.
Teyla rose, making a graceful exit that made McKay consider kicking her in the shin, consequences be damned. He glanced down at his tablet, seeing nothing amiss on the city systems display, and wondered what he could rig up without Sheppard noticing.
This was getting ridiculous.
He snorted and set down his fork, because there was no way he could finish eating with all this petty emotional idiocy dripping into his food. Sheppard started, and began picking at his plate, trying to discover the identity of the apparently offensive food, but it all looked safe.
"No, it's not that. What the hell happened, Sheppard?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I raise Weir from the dead using nanites, putting the entire city at risk, blah blah blah, and you and I were back to normal within two weeks. Ronon gets homesick, and the two you go around kicking each other's puppies for a month."
"We're fine." Sheppard shoved some bread into his mouth and chewed. "Also, we don't have any puppies."
"He goes running without you, and you eat in your office if he's here first. Get over it already."
"Don't know what you're getting at, but I'm pretty sure I don't need your advice." Sheppard glared as he packed up his tray and made to leave. McKay considered that, while no inroads had been made, he wasn't sporting a black eye, so it was a tie.
But then he heard Zelenka, cutting in from the next table over, and decided to re-score.
"Actually, Colonel, you may want to consider McKay's point. By the time that he, expert as he is, realizes that someone else besides himself is being jerk, the straits are dire indeed."
Maybe it was a slight win.
39 Tabula Rasa
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Date: 2008-12-05 01:40 pm (UTC)