unamaga: (heaven to me)
unamaga ([personal profile] unamaga) wrote2008-10-10 01:47 pm
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Happyfest Challenge Reminder

Hi, all! Remember that super awesome McShep Happyfest a bunch of you signed up for? Yep, that one. This is your friendly October reminder post, letting you know you have a little over three weeks until the November 1st posting date. Don't freak out, you can totally do this! We have confidence! And to encourage you, we're opening this post up for recs, cheerleading, idea-bouncing, and all that fun fest stuff. More about that at the end, though; first, [livejournal.com profile] chopchica and I have each come up with our top five fest-compliant fics to give you some inspiration and/or a reason to procrastinate. Fridays are made for procrastinating, after all!


Unamaga's Top Five

1. The First Pressing, by [livejournal.com profile] laceymcbain ~8,800 words
There is absolutely nothing about this fic that I don't love with all my heart. There's so much darkness and potential darkness in canon that we never see dealt with, and this gives the team - Rodney and John especially - something so beautiful and alive to counter that it leaves me feeling so warm I go around for hours after reading with a big grin on my face. And that's not even mentioning the wonderful way she handles Rodney and John's relationship, which is just - ugh, so gorgeous.

“But the Wraith—” John says, breaking off when he realizes he doesn’t know how to demand a reason for her apparent lack of concern. He doesn’t know when he started thinking people had to justify being happy.

“The Wraith will come no matter what we do,” she says, and there it is, the inevitability he’s been waiting for, but it isn’t the same somehow and he looks at her for an explanation. She smiles at him, and it’s understanding and not at all unkind. “They hunger and they seek to destroy, but that is their choice, not ours. We cannot live our lives by what they have chosen. We still need to eat and live and love one another, dance and make music and laugh. Raise our children, harvest our crops. Celebrate every day we have.”



2. One Leg at a Time, by [livejournal.com profile] lucitania ~14,500 words
I think the only way to sum this story up is: *snickers* The excerpt below is the beginning, and believe me, it only gets more fabulous from there. I have for many years been of the belief that everything always comes back around to pants; this fic proves me so gloriously right.

John Sheppard has learned a lot of things in his relatively short life, but there's only one thing he really knows, and that is that there are two kinds of people in this world: people who wear pants because they want to, and people who wear pants because they have to.

He hasn't made a study of who's who when it comes to this, but modesty aside, he's got a pretty good handle on it.



3. Advantage, by [livejournal.com profile] resonant8 ~14,900 words
Clever, completely absorbing, and incredibly hot; a triad of awesome. With a cherry on top. I love John and Rodney's dynamic here, the way they manage to snark at each other and need each other in the same breath. The aliens might have drawn attention to it, but they definitely did not make them do it.

"Let's not get hung up on details here," Rodney said, because how many interruptions could one conversation sustain? "The point is, the guards looked the four of us over and decided which one it would be to their advantage to, to remove from the negotiation, and they picked the major and slapped that slave-marking device on his forehead without asking anyone, and after that no one would listen to him. And they know something about Wraith strategy and tactics, but the other three of us don't have Major Sheppard's odd little knack for negotiation by randomness --"

"Hey," Sheppard protested.

"And so we got nowhere, revealed our presence, and showed them the gate and the jumper for nothing, and now Major Sheppard thinks he's my slave, and just please, please tell me you can undo this, Carson, because I can't have him tagging after me like an oversized kid brother --"

"Hey," Sheppard said irritably.


4. About a Lamp, by [livejournal.com profile] flambeau ~22,000 words
I love, love, love romps like this, where the author seems to take genuine delight in inventing all of these Ancient gizmos and gadgets for the boys to play with, and flambeau uses that so well to advance the romantic plot line that my heart sings, okay.

The first night, Rodney rolled over in bed, put his arm around the warm body next to him, and went on sleeping.

The second night, he stirred to near-consciousness when someone curled up behind him and breathed into his shoulder, and he had to shift around a bit and scrunch the pillow to get comfortable.

The third night, an elbow in the ribs made him blink, and when he did, he saw a shock of dark hair over sharp, pretty features. "You're not supposed to be here," Rodney said.



5. Transference, by [livejournal.com profile] semivowel ~13,000 words
I've seen this on ficfinders so many times I'm sure the entire internet has read it by now, but come on. Oblivious Rodney, sex, nonverbal declarations of intent - it's like wish fulfillment! How could I not include it? Happy sigh.

“Is it just me, or does this galaxy seem grabbier lately than usual?” asked Rodney as he paused to hoist a sagging John Sheppard more securely against his side. John just let his head loll onto Rodney’s shoulder by way of reply.

“Yes, yes, of course. Grabby McGrabby Pants,” Rodney agreed, gesturing to himself with his semi-free hand, the one holding John’s arm across his own shoulders. “But there’s getting the last donut through strategy, intellectual superiority, and the sheer logic of superior claim. And then there’s getting the last donut by luring it away from its teammates and plying it with drugged grain alcohol.”

“I am not a donut, McKay.”



Runner up: Slow and Steady, by [livejournal.com profile] kellifer_fic ~2,200
I've recced this before and I'll rec it again. It's too lovely not to! The ease of coming together, the simple prose and sweet dialogue - I think I can honestly say this is one of my all time favorites in fandom.

He had tensed and stayed tense for the next forty minutes until Rodney had said “Oh for chrissakes,” and had grabbed both of Sheppard’s legs, wrenching them up and sideways until they were across Rodney’s own and Sheppard was lying full length on the couch with his legs over Rodney’s and his head pillowed by the arm he’d been desperately trying to make a seat.

Sheppard was still painfully tense, but at least his bony elbow was no longer pressed into Rodney’s side.

Rodney felt Sheppard’s eyes on him and he fought the urge to smile.




Chopchica's Top Five

1. With Intent, by [livejournal.com profile] shaenie ~12,700 words
Why I love it:  I think this is currently my absolute favorite fic in the entire fandom, bar none. Just thinking about it makes me want to wriggle like a happy puppy. The slow and steady way they come together! The teaminess! The warmth and jokes and intimacy! The *really freaking hot sex*! There is literally nothing about this story I don’t adore beyond reason. 

It happens almost gradually. He's just sitting there grinning and watching Rodney reach across the corner of the table and drag his laptop over, watching him flip it open and wait for it to boot up, watching Rodney's grin slowly melt into a smaller smile, crooked and content, and it feels like the air is somehow thinner between them than it is in the rest of the room. Not suddenly, either, but like it has always been thinner; like all this time, all he had to do was stop working so hard at standing up, and he'd fall naturally in Rodney's direction.

Rodney glances over at him and takes a breath as though he's going to say something, but then doesn't. He just looks at John, still smiling, eyes warm, and John sees the lean coming.

John had seen an avalanche one time. He remembers the way the snow had shifted right before, like the mountain shrugged, how it had just rolled outward from a fixed point over long, slow seconds, powerful and unstoppable. He'd been in the air at the time, safe and snug in his Pave Hawk, but even knowing he was safe, he had stared, heart pounding and unable to look away. He remembers it as one of the most awesome - in the literal meaning of the word - things he has ever seen.

In a way that he can't actually explain, watching Rodney start to lean toward him feels just like it.

Then Carter says, "Okay, who's up first?" and Rodney turns back to his laptop.

Leanus Interruptus, John thinks ridiculously, and faces forward.

He's pretty much useless for the rest of the meeting.



2.Just Like Schrodinger’s Cat, by [livejournal.com profile] lamardeuse ~11,000 words
Why I love it: If you haven’t been able to tell by now, my idea of an awesome happyfic is one where John and Rodney have been finding their way toward each other for a long time – where it’s inevitable, but they take their time and (usually) enjoy the journey. It takes some shocks for the two of them to end up on the same page, but they get there (and how!).

His mind slowly scrolled through all the times he’d found himself gawking at Sheppard like an idiot, after being positive he’d never lay eyes on him again. It wasn’t only that there had been far too many occasions when the burden of saving Sheppard’s life rested on his shoulders; over the past two years, Rodney had developed a connection to this man that went beyond simple responsibility or even friendship. Watching him sleeping peacefully now, Rodney was astonished to realize he could no longer imagine his life without Sheppard in it, and the knowledge frightened him, because Sheppard had a penchant for repeatedly putting himself in harm’s way. If Rodney was finally going to form an attachment to something other than his work, he’d have been better off picking a goldfish with a nasty habit of jumping out of its bowl.

The final triumphant strains of the movie’s closing sequence roused Sheppard, bringing him instantly awake. Before Rodney could pretend otherwise, Sheppard’s green eyes opened and caught Rodney watching him. 

“Hey,” he said scratchily, by way of greeting. “Guess I slept through the movie, huh?”

I think I might be in love with you, Rodney thought, semi-hysterically. “Yeah,” he managed. “You didn’t miss much.”



3 and 4. Gift Horses and Careful Wishing, by [livejournal.com profile] liketheriverrun ~ 14,000 words each
Why I love them: liketheriver is one of my favorite SGA authors (especially when she teams up with koschka and then my heart possibly explodes from glee). It’s John and Rodney at their sarcastic and emotionally stunted best. They take a while to figure it out, but it never gets to the point where I’m ready to just smack them over the head, and there’s *never* a Big Misunderstanding that separates them for more than two minutes (that would be an *anti* fic kink for me). There really isn’t much better than two guys doing their thing – until the day they clue in about what’s *really* going on. 

Holy crap! Rodney was dressing like him. Rodney wanted to be like him. Rodney wanted to be with him. And that was… well, that was screwed up was what that was. Because Rodney was his teammate, his friend. His best friend. Probably the best friend he had ever had in his life. Hell, McKay had risked his life to save Sheppard’s ass on more than one occasion and John had done the same for him. They’d been willing to die for each other and that was more than he could say for anyone else he’d slept with. 

But sex? With McKay? It wasn’t exactly something he had thought about that often. Sure there had been that one dream, and dream Rodney had been… wow. That frantic intensity John had seen the scientist display on more than one occasion when their lives had hung in the balance had been completely focused on various body parts in the dream… all of them belonging to John and all of them very happy with the attention. 

Realizing he was smiling at the memory, Sheppard shook his head to clear it away so that the growing pressure in his pants didn’t start affecting his swing. Because it was just a dream. One he’d written off to post-mission stress. After all, John had almost died that time and Rodney had been the one to hook the harness around him so Ronon and Teyla could pull him out of that damn hole even while the man fought the shaking in his own hands and chanted under his breath about wide-open spaces. So it was natural, nothing unusual about being a little infatuated with the person that saved your life. Hell, patients did it with doctors all the time. Although, John had never fantasized about Carson… or Ronon… or Teyla. Okay, that was a lie, Teyla showed up a lot. But Teyla was curvaceous and exotic and unassumingly erotic. Teyla was also a woman and that pretty much sealed the wet-dream deal for Sheppard. But Rodney was… none of those things, that was for damn sure.


and

“McKay, if you would just eat dinner when everyone else does, this wouldn’t be a problem.” 

Rodney crossed his arms as he stood between the two marines that were on patrol duty that night and had caught him breaking into the storeroom. Sheppard stood in a matching stance opposite him… although it was a little harder to pull of looming in sweats and a t-shirt. “Scientific advancement doesn’t have a nine-to-five job, Colonel.” 

“No, evidently it has a nine-to-two-a.m. job. But that still doesn’t give you permission to break into the pantry any time you want.” 

“So you’re going to throw me in the brig over a pudding cup?” 

“Tempting as that may be, I kind of need you for the mission tomorrow. So, no, I’ll just put you under house arrest tonight.” He motioned a hand, in effect beckoning Rodney forward and dismissing the marines. “I’ll take it from here, guys. Come on, McKay, you’re going home.” 

Rodney shrugged out of the grip John had on his arm as soon as the two guards were out of sight. “This is ridiculous. All I wanted was something to eat and it turns into the heist of the century.” 

“Rodney, you have a stash of pudding in your room. Just eat that.” 

“That’s for emergencies,” he defended. 

“Yeah, pudding emergencies are a big problem around here. Enough to pull me out of bed to come bail your ass out of jail.”



5. When I’m 64, by [livejournal.com profile] nymphaea1 ~19,000 words
Why I love it:  The future! THE BEST FUTURE EVER! Seriously, when I try to imagine the future John and Rodney deserve, this is completely and totally it. I love the way the past is interspersed with the present and the juxtaposition of John and Rodney finding their way toward each other in the past (why yes, I do have a kink) against the scenes of their current life of awesome awesomeness

“We can watch the seminar if you want,” John said. “Considering that I’m kind of stuck here and there’s at least one copy on your laptop by now.”

There were two actually, with three more on his external drives. Backing up important data was the duty of the conscientious scientist, after all.

“We don’t really have to,” Rodney said, feeling himself flush. “I’ve already seen it.”

“That’s okay,” John said, shifting his foot in Rodney’s lap with some purpose. “Watching you gloat kind of turns me on.”

Well then. “I guess I’ll be getting my laptop, won’t I?”

The corner of John’s mouth curved up and he shifted his foot again. Okay, so maybe the whole adoring wife thing was a little over-rated. Rodney didn’t even like wine all that much. 

Rodney got up, replacing John’s legs on the couch carefully. He bent down and picked up the cold pack on John’s knee. It had, of course, gone completely room temperature. They could cross to distant galaxies in a matter of seconds and build weapons that destroyed planets with a thought, but they had yet to figure out how to make a cold pack that actually stayed that way. Given John’s strange confusion of physical activity with fun, they had to keep a supply of the things in the freezer. 

“For the record,” he said, looking over the damage from John’s day out, “you are an idiot and very high maintenance. But I guess I am glad you don’t have tetanus after all.”



Runner-up: Streets in a World Without End, by [livejournal.com profile] ismenetruth ~6,000
Why I love this: Oh, John! John, John, *John*! And *Rodney*! And the *future*! And they are so painfully adorable and moronic in their deep and passionate love that involves them living together for years and *never saying a word about it*. Seriously, I nearly cried when I realized this was a little to short to qualify for the rec post, and then [livejournal.com profile] unamaga said, “let’s have a runner-up!” and I almost hugged her! Anyway, I think this story has the best declaration of love by John that I’ve ever seen (and no, I’m not talking about the one in the excerpt). Someday I want to do a best declaration of love in stories rec post, and if I ever do, this one will be right on top.

The next morning he tries it out in person, casually. Rodney, always late when there's a morning meeting, dumps the entire pot of coffee into his absolutely ridiculous thermos and heads for the door, two laptops and a bagel bouncing between hands. When he fumbles the door handle, cursing, John decides to drop the bomb. 

"Have fun, McKay. Call me later," he smirks from the kitchen doorway. 

Rodney, looking aggrieved, snarls, "Yes, yes, later," and jerks the door open. 

"Love you," John adds, tone absolutely normal. Rodney just waves vaguely with his bagel, a bit of cream cheese glopping to the floor. 

It takes twenty minutes - John's ashamed to admit he's timing it - before the phone rings. Rodney's voice is eager, all out of proportion to the subject. "Do you want to meet me at the SGC tonight, or should I come back?" 

"Pick me up," John answers, lips twisting involuntarily into a smile. "There's this restaurant I want to show you." 

"Okay. Um." John can hear Rodney bracing himself. "Love you. Bye." Click. 

John laughs over the dial tone and rolls onto the bed, drifting back to sleep with Rodney's voice in his head.




Now. About that fun fest stuff. We're hoping to turn this post into a kind of fest in its own right. Writers are encouraged post snippets or "OH GOD I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING"s so that everyone else can bring out their pom poms and cheer them on. Happy fic recs, whether they be fest-compliant or not, are welcomed with open armed delight. And if you're having trouble finding a beta or you need someone to hold your hand, there are probably plenty of volunteers floating around!

And lastly: pimp this if you can! We don't know how all the participants got to us the first time around, but we'd like everyone to see the reminder. Here are two smaller buttons if you want them, feel free to hotlink. :D
ext_230: a tiny green frog on a very red leaf (Default)

[identity profile] anatsuno.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:09 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know what WE were thinking! We have sort of half an outline, half a scene here and half a scene there, and no climax/resolution for the plot, and and and and one of us is a writing moron with a stupid block since for fricking ever! (that would be me) OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)
YOU CAN DO IT BB. You are not a writing moron, oh my god.

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[identity profile] crazyace86.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)
*squees* RECS! Long stories!

I know what I'm doing for the rest of the day!

And I'm not involved with the fic-- I'm horrible with deadlines-- but I wish the best luck to everyone!

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Best way to spend a Friday afternoon! GUARANTEED OR YOUR MONEY BACK.

[identity profile] pennyplainknits.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
1) Anyone up for some handholding? I'm really worried about finishing mine. *wibbles*

2) Is there mayhap space for a happy podifc? Such as oooohhh something by chelle and grrrl (Which I am totally recording instead of y'know WRITING MY DAMN STORY! This is why I never finish stuff...)

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
1) I cannot offer much hand holding since I'm pretty crunched for time lately, but *holds your hand right now*. How much do you have, hon?

2) I'm not sure we could include it in the final fic listing, but podfic is ALWAYS good!

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ext_1175: (Default)

[identity profile] lamardeuse.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Here, have a piece of mine:

The door to Sheppard's quarters opened at his touch, and Rodney stepped inside, already in full-blown rant mode. “I've been instructed to find a hobby,” he announced with a snarl. “I think I'll take up knitting just so that I can jam the needles right up Woolsey's –”

Rodney stopped dead when he realized that Sheppard was sitting on his couch with his guitar in his hands. He was wearing jeans and a faded khaki t-shirt whose red lettering had long since faded into gibberish, and his feet were bare. Lifting his gaze from John's bony toes, Rodney saw Sheppard watching him, an amused tilt to his mouth.

“Up Woolsey's what?”

Rodney blinked, then frowned. “I don't really need to finish that sentence, do I?”

“Nah,” John said easily, waving at the chair beside him. “Take a load off.”

Rodney hesitated. Seeing Sheppard all relaxed and loose-limbed, he suddenly felt as though he was intruding. He shifted his feet and pointed a finger at the door. “Actually, I, uh, I should just – ”

“Rodney.” Rodney's head snapped up. “Siddown, already.”

“All right, just for a few minutes,” Rodney said, plunking down in the chair.

John smiled at him approvingly, then turned his attention back to the guitar. His left hand curled around the neck, while his right began strumming softly on the strings. Rodney watched him play, the music dissipating his rage like so much smoke.

“So what are you going to do?” John said after a few minutes.

“Hm?” Rodney shook himself. “About what?”

John's head was bowed over the guitar as his fingers spanned the frets to form a chord. “About your chosen form of artistic expression,” he said.

Rodney sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I have no idea.”

“Well, I guess I could teach you to play guitar,” John said, glancing up at him. “If you want.”

Rodney straightened slowly, staring at John, who had gone back to watching his fingerings. “Oh,” he managed, completely at a loss. “Uh. That would be – ah –”

John shrugged a shoulder. “If you don't want to, it's okay – ”

“No, no, no,” Rodney said hastily, “I'd like to, I mean, if you don't mind.”

John's face squinched up. “Wouldn't have offered if I minded.”

“Right. Yes. That makes sense.” Rodney clamped his lips shut to keep himself from babbling further. What the hell was wrong with him? Sheppard had offered to give him music lessons, not asked him to the senior prom. Really, he could stop acting like a tongue-tied adolescent any time now.

“Okay,” John said, nodding and shifting to the end of the couch. “Might as well get started. C'mere.”

“Now?” Rodney squeaked. John only patted the couch cushion beside him impatiently, and after a moment, Rodney obeyed.

“How much do you know about guitars?” John asked.

“About as much as the average person, I suppose,” Rodney hedged, folding his arms.

John surprised him with a curiously open smile. “What?” Rodney snapped.

John shook his head. “Never thought I'd ever hear you admit to being average about anything,” he said. Clearing his throat at Rodney's glare, he said, “Okay, let's start with the names of the strings. This,” he said, plucking the thickest one at the top, “is the E.”

“You're off by a quarter tone,” Rodney said smugly.

John frowned. “What?”

Rodney pointed to his ear. “Perfect pitch.”

“So, not completely average,” John said, the smile still tugging at his lips.

“No, not
completely,” Rodney answered primly.

“Okay,” John said, thrusting the guitar at Rodney, “then you can start by tuning it.”

Rodney's hand closed around the neck where John had just been holding it. He felt an odd, electric thrill in his fingers when he realized the wood was still warm, then shook his head to clear it as he reached for the tuning peg on the E string.





It's all over but the coming, so I think I'll be fine. (And thanks so much for the rec, c! *g*) In short: HAPPYFEST EEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Fjagiwjg;aojwif, EEE, guitar lessons! I'll admit I've been secretly longing for that since - well, pretty much forever, and to have you writing it? *gleeeee*

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[identity profile] tex.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Thanks so much for posting the "sample" fics. Now, I know that my story will fit this challenge! (if I can finish the damn thing)

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Eee, YAY! Tex fic! *bounce*

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[identity profile] darsynia.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 07:52 pm (UTC)(link)
RECS!! SQUEE!!! I haven't read a couple of those \o/

Here's a snippet of my contribution, which still needs a significant amount of word count... BUT--yay for another fandom cliché there always should be more of: time loop fic!

=====

"You have my full and undivided attention, Rodney," John said without a trace of sarcasm. Prudence did him no good, however--McKay's face twisted almost angrily at this, and he crossed the length of the puddlejumper to stand next to the cockpit bulkhead.

"See, that's-- I wish you would make up your mind, Colonel," McKay said, frustration etched in the downturn of his lips. "There's no way you can't know the effect your 'full and undivided attention' has on, well, everyone. Granted, I didn't expect to have to count myself among the number of--" he broke off and made a face before starting again, the words tumbling over themselves as they left his mouth. "My point is, I was sure that this problem would have resolved itself by now, and the fact that it hasn't--despite my best efforts, I might add--leads me to the conclusion that this is your fault. So, I'm here to ask you to either back off a little bit, because I'm fairly certain that you didn't intend to-- Well, the likelihood that you of all people, given your status in-- What I mean to say is, given the evidence, there's really only one obvious conclusion, and, and you're my friend, so I'm pretty sure that you didn't actually mean to..." McKay's voice trailed off, losing the break-neck momentum he'd started with initially as his eyes trailed downward from their fixed position a little left of John's face.

"Rodney," he said carefully, hoping to halt whatever this was and failing, as McKay was now staring almost fiercely at his right shoulder. "Maybe if you slowed down, finished a few sentences?"

"Oh, believe me, Sheppard, that's probably the last thing you want me to do," Rodney said with an unhappy little laugh.

"You're not making any sense, McKay." John cast back along the confused lines of McKay's scattered monologue until his mind caught on something that stuck out. "Also, what's the 'or?'" He crossed his arms and rested more of his weight on the dash, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"What?" Rodney looked incredulous, but he was actually looking at John's face now, which was an improvement. "That's the part you're picking up on?"

"Well, you said you wanted me to 'either,' I want to know my other option. What else did you want?" John didn't add that he had no idea what Rodney's idea of him 'backing off' would be, given that he hadn't known he was... backing on, or whatever.

"I want you to-- I want-- Oh, hell."

With that, Rodney stepped forward, all indecisiveness gone as he slid his hand up into John's collar and onto his neck in a move would have had John utterly distracted but for the fact that the hand was McKay's. He didn't have much chance to process the fact that he still found it slightly distracting, because then Rodney's lips were on his, warm and not at all desperate.

John had just lost the battle between shock and the need to angle his head and step closer when an alarm sounded somewhere near his head. He opened his eyes to see the ceiling of his quarters cut across with the light of the early morning sun.

=====

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
EEEEEEEE. TIME LOOP. That is one of my FAVORITE fic tropes. So much room for shenanigans! *glomps you*

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[identity profile] caersmane.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 08:36 pm (UTC)(link)
*facepalm* I still have absolutely no idea what to write. I have...nothing. *headdesk* Seriously, I could do with a good idea right now.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 08:40 pm (UTC)(link)
*dons help desk name tag* porny or very porny?

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ext_4055: (Default)

A snippet from me, as well.

[identity profile] chandri.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 09:07 pm (UTC)(link)
So far this fic is just Team Sheppard Goes To The Olympics, with just a pinch of plot. :)
~
The airline loses their luggage, which sparks off a predictably venomous tirade on the subjects of corporate monopolies and nose-diving service standards and something about nostalgia for the noble red goose. John has no idea what Rodney's talking about, but he shares bemused glances with Ronon and Teyla, sticks his hands in his pockets, and watches with a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Teyla has hoisted herself up on the low fake-stone wall bordering the baggage claim area, and is hiding her own smile by pretending to pull Torren's hat more securely down over his ears. Ronon's scanning the shiny pamphlet they were handed at Customs and ignoring all three of them.

There's something relaxing about listening to Rodney McKay complain, even if he's now on his way into a diatribe about hot towels and footrests. He stops only when Torren suddenly wakes up, lets out a whimpery, questioning noise, and flails his hands.

"Oh, hey," says Rodney, looking uncertain, "is he okay? I mean if I hate flying it's got to be worse for somebody who can't properly complain--"

"I think he's been managing pretty well, McKay," Ronon mutters, rolling his eyes fondly. Torren made his displeasure pretty well-known twenty minutes into the first flight, after all, John cringing when he realised they'd become Those People with the screaming infant. Or they would have been Those People, except Teyla plopped Torren into Rodney's lap and the kid went quiet so fast John wondered if she'd drugged him.

"He is all right, Rodney," Teyla says, but hands over her son when Rodney reaches tentatively for him. "He is merely tired."

"Well, you know all about being cranky, right? You guys can commiserate," John says, ruffling Rodney's hair, and Rodney only makes a token attempt at ducking out of reach, glaring for a second before he turns his attention to the baby. Torren has once again gone quiet and wide-eyed in Rodney's arms, staring around the claim area. Rodney's eyes rest firmly on the fuzzy top of Torren's head, and John knows he's staring, so it's a damned good thing that neither Teyla nor Ronon is paying him any attention.

Except - Teyla's looking at him with another smirky little smile, and he ducks his head, turns to scan the crowd again. Luckily, they're interrupted before Teyla can say anything shrewd and kind and embarrass them both horribly.

"What took you guys so long?" demands Jeannie Miller's voice, and John turns to see her elbowing her way through the crowd, Madison trailing behind her. She stops just short of them, eyes her brother with his armful of baby, and then throws her arms around John's neck, instead.

"Our flight was late," John manages, once he's got some air back into his lungs. Jeannie’s hugs take no prisoners. He pats her back until she draws away. "We got stuck on the ground in Toronto for an hour until the storm cleared."

"Ha! Snow! Well, good luck finding any of that here. It's been raining for two weeks." She turns to give Ronon the same treatment, and Ronon accepts the hug with grace. "And who's this?" Jeannie asks, beaming, turning on Rodney with a focus that makes him start, a little, tightening his hold on Torren. Jeannie turns to Teyla. "Is this..."

"This is Torren," Teyla confirms, sliding gracefully to her feet and taking the two steps between the wall and the two McKay siblings. She gives Rodney a nod, and he grudgingly gives up custody of Torren to Jeannie, who expertly folds him up with his diapered bottom braced in the crook of her left arm.

"You," Jeannie says to Torren, in the same serious voice Rodney uses with him, "are a very handsome young man." Torren thanks her for this assessment by stucking his fingers in her mouth, and Jeannie laughs delightedly. "He's beautiful," she tells Teyla, who inclines her head in Jeannie's direction with a smile. Rodney looks mulish until his sister notices, then rolls her eyes and slings her free arm around his neck, pulling him close.

"Yes, idiot," she says into his neck, as Rodney resists for a second before relaxing into the embrace - it makes John's chest hurt, a little, the way seeing Rodney with his sister always does. "I missed you, too."

Re: A snippet from me, as well.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, oh, I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS. *prepares her heart in advance*

I swear I've got further than this

[identity profile] pennyplainknits.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
It began with a bunch of scientists with cabin fever, and one of Elizabeth's bright ideas.

"OK, who threw that?" Rodney snapped, picking up the messily folded paper airplane that had just grazed his left ear. "Honestly, are you all twelve? I was under the impression I was dealing with adults here."

"Is wet outside." Radek, who was looking suspiciously innocent, said. "We have to do something for amusement."

It was wet. It had been raining for a solid week, and people were beginning to get restless.

"This is a lab, not a, a, paper airplane championship." Rodney said crossly. "And whoever made this should be ashamed of themselves. Talk about a bad understanding of the principles of flight." He brandished the airplane in the general direction of the lab.

"Actually that's not a bad idea." Elizabeth said, looking up from the passage of Ancient she was translating for Radek.

"What? What's not a bad idea?" Rodney asked, confused.

"A paper airplane championship- like Radek said we need something to amuse ourselves. We could hold in in that big room down on the third level."

"The ballroom?" Radek asked.

"It is not a ballroom." Rodney insisted.

"It has a disco ball. Strobe lights. What would you call it?" Radek retorted in what Rodney thought was an unnecessarily annoying tone of voice.

"Well, it could be anything. We don't know the disco ball is a disco ball. And-"

"And it's the perfect place." Elizabeth interrupted. "We can award points for longest time in the air, furthest flight. It will be a good chance for the newer people to get to know everyone, and for a little bit of friendly competition."

Rodney snorted. "Hadley competition. We'll wipe the floor with the rest of them. You-" he snapped his fingers at Molby, "Start investigating optimum paper composition. You, Simpson." He pointed "Designs for the wing fold. Radek and I will work on centres of gravity, since he's so fond of throwing airplanes." He was already busy thinking of the best designs. Should he adapt the classic paper dart? Or go for something more avant garde with wider wings? Would they be allowed to cut the paper?

"Rodney," Elizabeth voice broke in on his thoughts. He took one look at her face and his heart sank. She was going to make him mingle.

"We'll have two-person teams. One military, one civilian. It will give everyone a chance to work together in a stress-free situation."

"But Elizabeth-" he began desperately.

"No buts Rodney. In fact, we'll make a day of it. A little food, music, maybe some dancing. It'll be fun! I'll draw up an agenda and we can form a working group!" She said brightly.

Rodney's heart sank even further. Great. Enforced jollity, just what he needed.

"Oh, and Rodney? As head of science I expect you to set a good example, so I'd better see your name on the sign-up sheet."

Rodney put his head in his hands and groaned.
ext_4055: (Default)

Re: I swear I've got further than this

[identity profile] chandri.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Ballroom! Disco ball! Hee!

Elizabeth, you really are an elementary school teacher. *fond*
grammarwoman: (Default)

[personal profile] grammarwoman 2008-10-10 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
I could use some pom-poms to keep me going on this.

Rodney was seriously regretting ever pushing Teyla to learn more about Atlantis’ computer systems and other technology in the Pegasus galaxy. Sure, the extra hands on the dimension-hopping Daedalus had come in handy, and the sight of her confidently working the controls on Wraith cruisers was seriously hot, or would have been had he allowed himself to think of Teyla that way, which he couldn’t due to a number of factors, not the least of which was the strong impression made on his psyche the first time he had seen her take out a squad of Marines in the training room in a matter of minutes.

But this was intolerable.

It was bad enough that Teyla had been keeping up an email correspondence with Jeannie for a couple of years, behind his back. (And if he had found this out by monitoring the incoming and outgoing data packets more stringently than some people would warrant was in his purview as CSO, well, a slip of the lip had led to Jeannie’s brush with Replicator death, and how had his sister gotten an SGC email address that he didn’t know about?)

When he challenged Teyla about it, he had been hoping to get some kind of defensive rise out of her, which was really stupid in retrospect considering that Teyla had been handling outrageous first-contact missions for years without even raising her voice.


“Rodney, you are making this out to be much more important than it is. Jeannie simply said that she wished to have news of all of us on a regular basis, and that she couldn’t count on you to include any vital details other than your latest breakthroughs. I thought you would be pleased at my efforts to learn both English and some basic computer skills.”

He’d sputtered and ranted while attempting to come up with a good counter-argument. When he realized that Jeannie had a point, and that this could actually be beneficial to him in that he wouldn’t have to include any more mundane details (like the latest addition or removal from his staff, or remembering to ask about Madison’s latest recital -did she actually have time to attend school with all her extra-curricular activities? Weren’t there studies warning against over-scheduling young people of her age? Wait, what was her age? Had he missed another birthday?) in his (admittedly infrequent) communications with her, he sniffed and whirled around with a vague mutter about a simulation in the lab needing his attention.

This, however, was all the result of Jeannie’s meddling from another galaxy, and if that wasn’t the best argument yet against stronger email filters and firewalls, he’d…well, he’d have to fire off another strongly-worded memo to Woolsey, who would give him some non-committal bureaucratic reply that was the effective equivalent of a nod and smile. (God, he missed Sam. She could zing back a stinging rebuttal like no boss he’d ever had, a “Thanks for the ‘suggestion’, McKay, but aren’t you a little busy to be sitting as Big Brother over the whole expedition?” that would turn into a satisfying flamewar that could last for days. Good times.)

Rodney, John, and Ronon had sat down with their lunch trays around Teyla, who appeared lost in a large book laying flat on the table. She looked up at their arrival with a beatific smile.

"John. Rodney. I am glad to see you, as there is something I wish to discuss with you."

Rodney, torn between his food and curiosity at what she'd been reading, jerked his chin at the book as he slurped down a spoonful of the blue not-tomato soup. "What's that?"

"It is an excellent collection of wisdom sent to me by your sister, Rodney. These writings of Doctor Karp --"

"Dr. Karp? What's his line - physics? Engineering?" Rodney grabbed the book off the table, slipping in a finger to keep her place (he HATED when people carelessly closed books on him or lost his bookmarks - whole trains of thought could be lost, not to mention valuable time, in trying to relocate his current position). In his horror at seeing the cover, though, he flung the book away from him, sending it sliding across the table and into Sheppard's lap. The colonel obligingly picked it up and read the title out loud.

"'The Happiest Toddler on the Block'. Huh."
grammarwoman: (Default)

Continued...

[personal profile] grammarwoman 2008-10-10 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Rodney began wiping his hands on his shirt as if to clean off a contagion, sputtering, "What could you possibly - What kind of harebrained idea of Jeannie's - What the hell would you need - I mean, Torren's not even a toddler yet, and considering that he's the only baby regularly on Atlantis, by definition he's the happiest, and well, I suppose then the crankiest too, but - "

"Rodney." The smile had faded somewhat from Teyla's face, and an edge had crept in. "I confessed to Jeannie that I felt I was not being the best mother I could to Torren, and she sent me this book to help me." She closed her eyes and took one of her meditative breaths, then fixed her gaze back on Rodney. Her expression looked disturbingly close to the "remaining calm with the hair-triggered locals" face that came out on the more difficult missions. "Doctor Karp suggests that a child should spend time with all the significant adults in his life. He also recommends that a mother cannot forget her bonds with the other parent, and that they need to work on remaining close. Therefore, I believe that you and Colonel Sheppard should watch over Torren while Kanaan and I are...elsewhere."

"You want us to babysit so you and Kanaan get it on? No way!"

"McKay's right - we are the last people you want for babysitting detail." Sheppard gingerly set the book back down in front of Teyla and looked ready to bolt.

Re: Continued...

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Re: Continued...

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Re: Continued...

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ext_3251: (Default)

[identity profile] facetofcathy.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
No promises on getting finished (in time), but a couple of rough snippets...

Rodney didn’t really believe they got a lot of magazine salesmen out here in the upper class rural splendour of horse country. The maid probably thought he was a journalist, or something.

“John Sheppard,” Rodney said.

“Ah, and you are?” Even more suspicious.

“Aside from still standing on the stoop, Dr. Rodney McKay. Now is Sheppard here or not?”

A woman’s voice floated out from the dark depths of the house. The maid's scowl was quickly replaced by the cool smile of a sharp woman about Rodney’s age, graceful looking in a summer dress and short dark hair. “I am Karen Sheppard.”

“Yes, yes, lovely. I’m attempting to find John Sheppard. Is he here?”

“John doesn’t get many visitors ah, Doctor?”

Rodney resolved not to sigh too dramatically or sit down on the doorstep and scream. “Of course not, he’s too busy being heroically stoic, or is it stoically heroic. You can’t keep that up with a steady stream of friends now can you. I am Doctor Rodney McKay. I used to work with Col- er John. Once more, is he here?” It didn’t pass Rodney’s notice that the woman’s lips had twitched at his maligning of John’s character.

“Yes,” Karen said stepping back and finally, finally letting Rodney into the house. “It’s such a lovely spring day, he’s in the garden. I had hopped the sun and fresh air might do him some good.”

“Christ, didn’t I see that on Masterpiece Theater once?” Rodney tromped through the house, noticing a lot of grey.

Karen laughed, a lovely light sound and pushed open a wide set of French doors that overlooked a manicured lawn surrounded by gardens blooming in soft spring colours. “Now, now, Doctor I’ll have you know I did my Master’s thesis on Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen.”

“Oh God, another English Major.”

“That’s right, Rodney, it’s a plot to keep you constantly annoyed. English Majors behind every bush.” The voice emanated from a high backed chair in the middle of the lawn. John’s head appeared around the back of the chair, a grin flashing under the black discs of his sunglasses.

“It’s remarkably effective,” Rodney said, a smile spreading over his own face that he was sure was remarkable goofy looking.

***

"You wasted yourself in the English Department Karen. You have a very quick mind.”

“That rates as high praise from McKay, in case you haven’t quite got the hang of the language he speaks yet.” John was leaning in the doorway behind Rodney. Rodney could see his reflection clearly in the glass doors.

“I find Canadian English is usually fully comprehensible to Americans, Sheppard, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Guess it doesn’t work both ways.” Rodney studied the reflection. “Why are you lurking in the doorway, pretending you’re not in pain?”

“It’s nothing Rodney, just a foot cramp. I don’t flex my foot in a normal way. The tendons keep locking up.” John limped over to sit on the small sofa beside Rodney. “That looks good.” John sniffed at Rodney’s drink. “I can’t even remember what this tastes like.”

“You’d be drunk on one even without the medication anyway,” Rodney said.

“Yeah, likely. Hey, remember in the first year…”

“Oh god, yes with the…”

“Yeah. Never been so hungover in my life.”

Rodney noticed that when John smiled for real the pain lines around his eyes disappeared. He snapped his fingers at John, waved at his foot and snapped again. “Get it up here.”

John used both hands to lift his left leg on to the sofa. Rodney grabbed at the foot and pulled it into his lap. He dug his thumbs hard into the sole, sweeping them up and out. John let out a groan as Rodney repeated the move. He spent some time working the ball of the foot, trying to work out the tightness he could feel in the flesh. He made another mental note to look into massage therapists in D.C.

“God that’s fantastic. Marry me, Rodney.” John was almost writhing around on the sofa.

“Sure, I’ll book the tickets to Vancouver right away; Madison can be flower girl. How does June sound?” Rodney could see Dave and Karen sharing a look out of the corner of his eye. They were getting very good at the understated reactions.

“June sounds great.” John pulled his foot back to the floor and grinned at his brother. Dave managed a weak smile back.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Awww, John! AWWW, BOYYYYS. <333

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(Anonymous) 2008-10-10 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Eep! I am determined to finish mine, to prove to myself I am CAPABLE OF MEETING DEADLINES and actually write something longer than 1000 words, but I am getting worried! And I just keep skipping the plotty bits so I can write the good bits! (By which I mean sex bits.)

Also, I shall have to find a beta, but how long is an acceptable time to give someone to beta something? I cannot heap something on some poor person like 'HERE, DO THIS' with 2 days to go. I an unaware of the etiquette in these situations!

Oh, whoah, I just totally delurked and panicked without realising, that was kind of rude. But I think the happyfest is a great idea, and you two are super for organising it!
ext_12523: flan looking hot. (Default)

[identity profile] glitterdash.livejournal.com 2008-10-10 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooh gosh, I forgot to sign in and just did all that anonymous. How silly.

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[identity profile] morgaine22.livejournal.com 2008-10-11 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
ZOMG I can't wait to read the ones I haven't got yet when I get back from vacation!! HAPPY!WEEEE!

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-11 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
YAYYYYYYE!!! <333

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[identity profile] eotu.livejournal.com 2008-10-13 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
I'm out. Can't do it. Can't even get started. Just call me Marvin. Looking forward to reading, though.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-13 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, well, maybe next time! :D

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[identity profile] cat-latin.livejournal.com 2008-10-13 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
Here's a chunk of mine. I'm hoping I can finish it...I've never completed anything longer than 4500 words before. Post "Tao of Rodney," Rodney sends John on an "obstacle course."

The life signs indicator was stuttering Rodney‘s presence all over Atlantis. It finally slowed, showing Mckay in his room. Rodney had done something creative with the locks, so it took John an extra few minutes to bypass the codes. He wasn’t worried, and he certainly wasn’t going to panic, and he definitely did not thank god when the stupid lock gave it up.

John still had to wedge the doors with a crowbar and shove his way inside. He did not run to the inert form swathed in blankets on the bed, he just moved brusquely, stumbling over a discarded boot and barking his shin on a low table on the way.

This was the part where Rodney would stir from his nest of blankets and launch himself upright, glaring and sputtering about privacy and breaking and entering, or even some inanity like, “I could have been in here with someone!” And that would be the part where John would roll his eyes at him, or possibly even laugh, which was pretty cruel, John reflected, and the blankets still weren’t moving. He yanked them aside and found the ridiculously gay sparring dummy the Marines called “Dirk." Why the hell did a sparring dummy need nipples anyway?

There was a note pinned to its washboard abs. It said “Bite Me,” in Rodney’s tiny, perfect, serial-killer handwriting.

Okay. So McKay was fine, and wanted to be left alone. Fine. But Sheppard was feeling bored and contrary, and in the mood for a fight, so he tracked down the other two members of his team.

Teyla and Ronon were in the gym with a bunch of Athosian kids. There was no such thing as a permission slip for parents to sign in Atlantis, so Ronon and Teyla were free to conduct martial arts workshops John liked to name things like, “Pegasus Jackass,” and “Don’t Try This at Home.” The kids were having a ball.

“You guys haven’t seen Rodney anywhere, have you?” John asked, as Jinto was flung, laughing, across the room. Teyla and Ronon exchanged their Look. John hated it when they did that. “Fine, wonder twins, I’ll ask someone else.” He turned to go.

“Wait,” Ronon said, with that sharp little smile that meant something painful was about to happen.

Teyla was trying (and failing) not to smile when she said, “We might have the information you need, if you agree to be used in a demonstration of one of the more…vigorous moves that we wish to show the children.”

For some reason, the next hour did not satisfy his desire for sparring. Maybe it was all those kids laughing at him. Before John limped out the door, it was casually mentioned that Carson might be able to help him in his “quest for Rodney,” as Teyla put it. That was fine. He needed to go there now, anyway.

Carson taped up the worst of John’s cuts, and checked his ribs for cracks. Then he admitted that he might possibly have some leads as to the whereabouts of Rodney, if John had an hour to spare, and about half a pint of blood for some genetic test he was running.

“Go see Radek,” Carson said shortly, pulling off his gloves with a snap and dismissing John from the infirmary. When John just gaped at him, Carson smirked and handed him a lollipop.

Senior-staff conspiracies were nothing new around Atlantis, but John wasn’t used to being on the other side of one. Was there a word to describe the condition of feeling both flattered and wanting to punch something?

Rodney would know.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-14 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
HEEE! I love it when the boys play games. :D :D :D

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wolfshark: (Default)

[personal profile] wolfshark 2008-10-13 08:52 am (UTC)(link)
Uh... I have 2500 words of set up and porn, and I think I'll end up with another 5k words of porn, but there is no actual plot!

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-14 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
Happy porn is still happy! :D :D

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danceswithgary: (Default)

[personal profile] danceswithgary 2008-10-13 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Reading the snippets has me wiggling with glee and making copious notes on my McShep piece. Whee!

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-14 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
EEEE, YAY! \o/

[identity profile] lenkti.livejournal.com 2008-10-14 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
I have about one third of a very rough first draft. I don't think I'm going to be finished on time.

I blame John Sheppard. It's hard to work on a happy story when he keeps breaking my heart.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2008-10-14 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
BB, I know your pain. I keep starting things and having to stop because JOHN IS MAKING THIS FACE AT ME :'{

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[identity profile] debris_k.livejournal.com 2008-10-14 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
I am *so* looking forward to the results of this fest, strictly from a happy!fic addict's POV, of course. (The previews are way too cool for words. *squishes the world, for it is HAPPY*

P.S. the last rec, Chopchika's runner-up by [livejournal.com profile] ismenethruth, is actually called "Streets in a World Underneath It All". As far as I know, that is, since I was kinda disappointed that the link lead to a fic I've read before after being revved up by the admittadly somewhat-familiar quote. Still, just thought it was worth mentioning - hope it doesn't ruin any Happy. ;-)

[identity profile] chopchica.livejournal.com 2008-10-24 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, whoops, you are right! I think I got two story titles conflated in my head.
cyanne: (Default)

[personal profile] cyanne 2008-10-16 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
I freaked out last Sunday when I realized this was coming due. Then I saw the list of recs and freaked out even more, it's hard enough writing 7500 words, even more so when you see the caliber of the other writers. But I figure I'm just going to write the best fic that I can and then sit back and enjoy reading what everyone else comes up with. I think I found a way to make my fic work, John accidentally proposes and there's a stealth wedding and then a little bit of what happens next (yes that) but something else too. I'll try to put a snippet in the next few days; I write out of order and nothing would really make sense at this point. But I am determined to finish this.

[identity profile] chopchica.livejournal.com 2008-10-24 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooh, accidental weddings are the best!

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[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com - 2008-10-24 14:53 (UTC) - Expand

[identity profile] bluespirit-star.livejournal.com 2008-10-17 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
My fic seems to be growing & I'm a little worried that I won't be completely ready to post on 1st Nov (I want to try to do the fic & the fest justice. *g*)
Do all fics have to be posted on the 1st or is there a window of a few days for posting? *looks hopeful*
Either way, I'm going to keep working to get our boys happy. *g*

[identity profile] chopchica.livejournal.com 2008-10-24 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Argh, sorry we missed your question! I just answered over at your latest post.

(no subject)

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com - 2008-10-24 14:54 (UTC) - Expand
danceswithgary: (Default)

[personal profile] danceswithgary 2008-10-18 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Here's a little snippet from the story I finally settled on writing from the umpteen bunnies hopping around on my hard drive. :-D

Title: Screen Savor
Author: danceswithgary
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: Not sure yet
Warnings: No, the title is NOT misspelled. John is American. *grin*
Spoilers: Through S3 (Contains dialogue from several S3 episodes)
Word Count: (needs to be 7500+)
Archive: Fine, just let me know
Summary: It was the perfect setup - a little girl with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a pink tutu. What woman could resist?



"How long would I be gone?"

"Well, it’s like, a couple of months. Tops."

"Mer! A couple of months? Are you joking? I...Madison has her first ballet recital next Tuesday."

"She’s four, Jeannie! How good could she possibly be?"

"That’s not the point!"

"Hey, she’s not gonna remember you not being there."

"I’ll remember me not being there."



~*~*~



It took almost five weeks after the annoyingly perfect Dr. 'Call me Rod' McKay returned to his universe for John to notice that 'his' Rodney had changed. In fact, if not for the women clustering two rows deep around Rodney's laptop while they made noises sounding disturbingly close to giggling and cooing, John might have remained oblivious even longer. The situation was unique enough to have John checking to make sure he'd strapped on his gun that morning, just in case some new Ancient device had been activated and Rodney had ended up in the middle of a some bizarre feeding...or even worse...mating frenzy.

John knew from experience that some of those female scientists were predatory, and could be positively vicious when denied their prey.

[identity profile] chopchica.livejournal.com 2008-10-24 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Sounds really intriguing! Can't wait to see more!

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[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com - 2008-10-24 14:55 (UTC) - Expand

[identity profile] seikaitsukimizu.livejournal.com 2008-10-19 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, I'm a little late in starting (read: yesterday), but I finally settled on crack (big crack). If you want to know on what, here's my teaser:

“The IOA recognizes that long-term Gate teams form a unique bond that sometimes leads to physical intersections and intense emotional attachments. Team mates who are consenting and don’t let it interfere with their primary duties are allowed to limitedly fraternize.”

And the man had said it without the slightest hint of kidding. “Wait, so if I wanted to sleep with Teyla I could? Or Ronon?”

Now Lorne looked amused. “I suppose if you wanted to. And they wouldn’t break you in half if you tried, yes, that’s what they’re saying.”

[identity profile] chopchica.livejournal.com 2008-10-24 02:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, that sounds really cool! Keep on writing!

[identity profile] gsmaxwell.livejournal.com 2008-10-23 02:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Here's a snippet of mine....

“Hey!” Rodney ducked and held his laptop in front of his face, blocking the scans. “We don’t even know what that does!”

“It scans brains,” Zelenka snorted. “And we only have healthy brains to scan. I thought it would be a good idea to see an abnormal one.”

“What’s that suppose to mean,” Rodney kept the laptop up in defense even though Zelenka had lowered the scanner.

“Nothing,” Zelenka said. “Just that a few people have started to become concerned by your behaviour. We’re just not sure whether or not it’s a tumour, or possession, or, what is it, a pod person as Captain Sanchez suggested.”

“Hey!” Rodney said, a bit more angrily this time, and peeked over to glare at him. Zelenka threw up his hands in surrender and went back to his side of the lab and Rodney grumbled under his breath.

[identity profile] chopchica.livejournal.com 2008-10-24 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Mysterious! I can't wait to find out what's happening!

(no subject)

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com - 2008-10-24 14:59 (UTC) - Expand

[identity profile] caersmane.livejournal.com 2008-10-27 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Pulling out :( Won't be able to finish anywhere near the due date.

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