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Title: My Daddy Was A Soldier Man - Part 3/7
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: 678 (Commitment 200-woo!)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: All mistakes are mine. This all began with My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |
They’d been allocated separate rooms but after the Wraith attack, John noticed an extra cot in Sam’s room and all of Dean’s stuff. There was no fuss, it just happened. John suspects that Dean would have preferred it that way from the beginning and the whole fiasco was just an excuse.
So, he’s really not sure if Dean will want to go offworld without his brother.
John finds Dean in the shooting range with Ronon’s weapon. He’d been begging to have a go of it and apparently, his constant nagging had finally born fruit. The fact that he was there alone, without Ronon casting a suspicious eye right over his shoulder, reassures John that he’s doing the right thing because Ronon doesn’t trust easily.
Either that or Dean stole the damn thing and won’t be alive long enough to make it offworld.
John waits until Dean has made confetti of four targets and has temporarily laid the gun aside before he clears his throat. “So, I was wondering if I could run something by you,” John starts and Dean automatically tenses. He can see Dean’s shoulders go up and his face blank out and John puts on a grin, trying to disarm.
“Nothing bad,” John reassures. “I just thought you might be getting sick of being McKay’s personal touch pad.” When Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, John snorts a laugh. “Sorry, that came out far naughtier than I meant it to.” Luckily, the unintentional double entendre has the desired effect of making Dean relax. He turns and resets his target and John knows that’s an important thing, for Dean to turn his back on someone.
“I’m not scrubbing pots or cleaning toilets if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dean says. He thumbs the button that has the paper target rolling back into position and John not for the first time wonders if the Ancients have some more high-tech, cooler way to do the whole firing range thing. There’s a bunch of rooms they still haven’t figured out yet and John’s just waiting for the scientists to find the holodeck.
He’ll feel strangely ripped off if there isn’t one.
“Nothing like that,” John says, moving into the booth next to the one Dean is occupying. He unclips his own weapon and sets it down, loading his own target. It whirs into place before he continues. “You’re well trained and can obviously handle yourself. I don’t believe anyone in this place should be sitting around and twiddling their thumbs.”
“Yeah?” Dean’s trying to sound neutral but John can tell already that he’s interested. John’s an expert on stoic.
“Captain Baker’s team usually goes offworld with a science contingent, keep ‘em from getting into trouble. It’s pretty much a security detail, sometimes when the anthro guys are making negotiations to set up trade.”
“Baker’s the short guy, always looks a little pissed off?”
John digs his teeth into his bottom lip to stop from laughing. To say that Baker looks permanently annoyed is an understatement. Some of the marines, out of his hearing, say that the guy has been in a bad mood since the doctor slapped him on the ass when he was born. That, fortunately, doesn’t detract from the guy being a good soldier and an even better leader. Baker has lost only one team member the entire time he has been in Atlantis, and that was due to a horrendous accident that no one could have forseen. He was hesitant when John had brought his idea to him, but strangely enough, Elizabeth had been closer to the mark with his expected reaction.
“Yeah, the very same,” John confirms. “Anyway, since he’s a man down I was wondering if you’d mind filling in?”
John’s not sure what he’s expecting, but Dean turning and looking at him for a second before saying, “No, thanks,” isn’t it.
“Can I ask why?”
“No,” Dean says simply.
John of course, knows the reason. “Look, if you’re worried about Sam-”
“I’m allowed to say no, right?” Dean snaps and John blinks.
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’m saying no.”
By:
kellifer_ficFandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: 678 (Commitment 200-woo!)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: All mistakes are mine. This all began with My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |
They’d been allocated separate rooms but after the Wraith attack, John noticed an extra cot in Sam’s room and all of Dean’s stuff. There was no fuss, it just happened. John suspects that Dean would have preferred it that way from the beginning and the whole fiasco was just an excuse.
So, he’s really not sure if Dean will want to go offworld without his brother.
John finds Dean in the shooting range with Ronon’s weapon. He’d been begging to have a go of it and apparently, his constant nagging had finally born fruit. The fact that he was there alone, without Ronon casting a suspicious eye right over his shoulder, reassures John that he’s doing the right thing because Ronon doesn’t trust easily.
Either that or Dean stole the damn thing and won’t be alive long enough to make it offworld.
John waits until Dean has made confetti of four targets and has temporarily laid the gun aside before he clears his throat. “So, I was wondering if I could run something by you,” John starts and Dean automatically tenses. He can see Dean’s shoulders go up and his face blank out and John puts on a grin, trying to disarm.
“Nothing bad,” John reassures. “I just thought you might be getting sick of being McKay’s personal touch pad.” When Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, John snorts a laugh. “Sorry, that came out far naughtier than I meant it to.” Luckily, the unintentional double entendre has the desired effect of making Dean relax. He turns and resets his target and John knows that’s an important thing, for Dean to turn his back on someone.
“I’m not scrubbing pots or cleaning toilets if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dean says. He thumbs the button that has the paper target rolling back into position and John not for the first time wonders if the Ancients have some more high-tech, cooler way to do the whole firing range thing. There’s a bunch of rooms they still haven’t figured out yet and John’s just waiting for the scientists to find the holodeck.
He’ll feel strangely ripped off if there isn’t one.
“Nothing like that,” John says, moving into the booth next to the one Dean is occupying. He unclips his own weapon and sets it down, loading his own target. It whirs into place before he continues. “You’re well trained and can obviously handle yourself. I don’t believe anyone in this place should be sitting around and twiddling their thumbs.”
“Yeah?” Dean’s trying to sound neutral but John can tell already that he’s interested. John’s an expert on stoic.
“Captain Baker’s team usually goes offworld with a science contingent, keep ‘em from getting into trouble. It’s pretty much a security detail, sometimes when the anthro guys are making negotiations to set up trade.”
“Baker’s the short guy, always looks a little pissed off?”
John digs his teeth into his bottom lip to stop from laughing. To say that Baker looks permanently annoyed is an understatement. Some of the marines, out of his hearing, say that the guy has been in a bad mood since the doctor slapped him on the ass when he was born. That, fortunately, doesn’t detract from the guy being a good soldier and an even better leader. Baker has lost only one team member the entire time he has been in Atlantis, and that was due to a horrendous accident that no one could have forseen. He was hesitant when John had brought his idea to him, but strangely enough, Elizabeth had been closer to the mark with his expected reaction.
“Yeah, the very same,” John confirms. “Anyway, since he’s a man down I was wondering if you’d mind filling in?”
John’s not sure what he’s expecting, but Dean turning and looking at him for a second before saying, “No, thanks,” isn’t it.
“Can I ask why?”
“No,” Dean says simply.
John of course, knows the reason. “Look, if you’re worried about Sam-”
“I’m allowed to say no, right?” Dean snaps and John blinks.
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’m saying no.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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He’ll feel strangely ripped off if there isn’t one.
Heh. I would too.
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Now that was an interesting twist I wasn't expecting.
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