jadesfire

[c&p'd from naye's journal, to save her inbox]

Original context:

naye was being somewhat traumatized by the anime she's watching. She begged for help. This was the best I could come up with at short notice.

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Rodney's door wouldn't open when John waved his hand over the control panel. And yes, okay, McKay was probably entitled to his privacy, but when he was two hours late for work and no one had seen him in the Mess Hall for breakfast, John was fairly sure something was wrong.

Of course, if Rodney was just holed up with a stash of MREs and a pet project, John was going to feel an even bigger idiot than he already did, prying the cover off the door panel and swapping the crystals around.

He wasn't sure he'd gotten the right combination until the door slid silently open, revealing the dark room beyond.

"McKay?"

There was no answer, but John could hear what sounded like music coming from a long way away. As he stepped over the threshold, blinking in the darkness, he recognized it as the tinny sound of something being played through laptop speakers. "McKay?" he said again, a little louder this time, because the lack of reply and the general gloom was starting to freak him out a little.

Turning, he saw a faint glow coming from the other side of the room, and he braced himself before slowly making his way over.

Rodney was sitting in the corner, half-hidden behind a pillar. He was curled up in the blanket from his bed, a pile of power bar wrappers on the floor beside his open laptop. The screen threw oddly colored lights across his face, and John frowned.

"McKay? What are you-"

"Shhhhh." Waving a hand vaguely, Rodney pulled the blanket. "Simon is…oh." He broke off, staring at the screen as though transfixed.

"Who's Simon?" Trying not to stumble in the gloom (he hadn't been wrong about the stash of MREs, which presumable had been the meal to which the power bars were the dessert), John crossed the few feet between him and Rodney and crouched down to look.

And immediately had to brace himself against the wall. "McKay!"

"Didn't I just say be quiet?" But Rodney's usual irritation volume was lacking as he watched the tiny figures on the screen do … something …

"You've been watching a cartoon? All night?" That wasn't too hard a deduction to make judging by the size of the power bar mountain. "What the hell?"

"It's anime," Rodney shot back, in a tone that suggested John had just mistaken a horse for a goat.

"Oookay." Deciding that one of them had to make an executive decision, John reached out and hit the space bar, pausing the- geez, what were they even doing? He decided he didn't want to know. "Time to get out there with the real people for a while, I think."

"Hey!" There was a brief struggle as Rodney tried to get free of the blanket enough to press play again, but it got tangled round his legs and he pitched face-first onto the floor as John made a dive for the laptop, pulling it out of reach. "You can't do that!"

"It's for your own good, buddy." Bookmarking the point where he'd paused it, John shut the laptop then went to help Rodney break free of the blanket. "Let's go get you some coffee."

"But…but…" Rodney didn't fight back when John caught his flailing hand and hauled him to his feet. "Simon just found out that Yoko loves Kamina, not him."

"Right." John picked up Rodney's jacket from the back of his desk chair and helped him into it. "And she'll still love him when you come back to it tonight."

"You don't understand." Rodney almost wailed. "Simon's traumatized! How is he supposed to fight the battle against the beastmen when his heart is broken?"

Coming to a stop, John took Rodney by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. "Rodney! It's a cartoon."

"Anime"

"Whatever!" Shaking him not-quite-so-carefully this time, John pushed Rodney towards the door. "It'll still be here when you get back." This time when he waved his hand over the panel, the door opened smoothly, and he dragged Rodney out into the corridor. "Assuming you can hold it together that long."

Rodney sniffed. "I suppose so. What time is it, anyway?"

"Gone eleven." Since Rodney still looked a little dazed, John put a hand on his elbow and gently guided him towards the Mess Hall. "You know, you should really wait for movie night before staying up for hours watching bad … TV."

"Oh yeah, right. Like you guys would want to watch Gurren Lagann with me."

That was probably a fair point, and as they stepped into the transporter, John dragged up the words to ask something that had been bugging him since he'd pressed 'pause'.

"Er, Rodney. Those were drills they were holding. Right?"

Written for the wonderful newkidfan and hosted over at the comm in her honour \o/ If you've ever glanced at artword, you'll know it's an awesome comm generally, but the last challenge in particular took modding to new levels, and she managed it with grace, humour and style. For me in particular, she was patient and helpful and humoured me when I panicked, which was hugely appreciated. So this is just a small thank you to her for all of that.

In my head, this story forms a loose trilogy with First Contact and Finding Their Way, about the early days of the Atlantis expedition.


Title: Gone Fishin'
Author: jadesfire2808
Words: ~2,230
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Rodney
Spoilers: Set directly after "Thirty-Eight Minutes", spoilers for "The Game"

Notes: With thanks to greyias for encouragement and miss_zedem for working her beta-magic as usual.

Summary: The visit came sooner than Rodney expected.

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Do I owe anyone fic at the moment? I have a vague feeling that I do but I can't figure out who, what, when or why. There's a Happyfest over at miss_zedem's that I'd encourage everyone to contribute to and I might drop into later. On my list at the moment is knitting-fic, puppy-fic (although that one's trying to turn itself into original fic *is scared*), LFWS Round 3, my Yuletide fic and my sga_santa fic (and damn I need to keep better track of my plot bunnies because I *know* I had one I wanted to use). Anything else? I'm bound to have missed something... Maybe it was a beta *goes to check email*

ETA: I'd forgotten my long-term projects - the top-sekkrit thingy (yup, bironic, I'm still going on it...), the Torchwood-Rio fic and the SGA AU that's mouldering in an email attachment somewhere. I think *that* was the one that might make my secret santa *ponders*

Sometimes I think fic is like the teaspoons when you're doing the washing up. No matter how done you think you are, there's always one left in the bottom of the sink.

*pokes through foam* Anything else while I'm here?

Apologies for the spamming, but this ficlet refused to be written until half an hour ago, so I want to get it published and done before it turns round and bites me again.

For greyias who asked for just after "Some Assistance Required". With thanks to donutsweeper for the prompt that helped me break the damn thing.

Title: Aroma
Words: 490
Rating/Warnings: G/er...for sappiness?

Summary: Possibly the only time Rodney lets his coffee go cold.

( Aroma )

This one is for greyias, who gave me the picture below as a prompt. Anyone who can turn the bit at end of this story into a graphic will have my undying love and all the virtual cookies you can eat :)

My prompt was (I kid you not):

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Title: Some Assistance Required
Author: jadesfire2808
Rating: Gen
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Words: ~2000
Characters: McKay, Sheppard

Summary: What's a team for, if not to lend a helping hand?

( Some Assistance Required )

Title: Not Dead Yet
Author: jadesfire2808
Words: ~3,750
Rating: G
Characters: Teyla, Lorne
Genre: Gen
Spoilers: All through seasons 2 and 3. Episodes referenced (in order) are: The Siege, Condemned, Coup d'Etat, Misbegotten, Vengence, First Strike

Notes: With huge thanks to miss_zedem and rustydog for encouragement, beta and hand-holding. Written for archae_ology as part of the Fandom Free For All (still open, just!)

Summary:
"The box was large and striped, its lid flipped back and a small, handwritten note in front of it. Teyla paused as she passed.

Congratulations on not being dead.
O'Neill"

( Not Dead Yet )