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Title: Hegira - Part Two
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: Adult Themes
Word Count: 2,035
Spoilers: None
Category: AU
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine
Summary: Rodney cleared his throat, looked around quickly and then wrapped a hand around the back of John’s neck, thumb rubbing just under his ear. “I’m the smartest person currently living and you’re some kind of… well, you just pushed a car a couple of miles without breaking a sweat. I’m quietly confident.”
As expected, the Volvo dies outside a one horse, okay, one petrol station town, just long enough after they had bought it for Rodney to be convinced that it had been held together with gaffa tape and a prayer in the first place. They were about ten minutes outside the town limits and John had silently motioned Rodney into the driver’s seat again after the hood had been lifted and Rodney had had enough time to swear and decide that he couldn’t really do anything other than swear at it. John had pushed them the rest of the way, head bent low and legs pumping and Rodney was left to simply steer, not wanting to think about the fact that after a little while they were probably travelling faster than when he’d actually been driving.
“Engine’s seized,” the mechanic who’d only ever had a passing acquaintance with a shower, informed Rodney. “I could blow smoke up your ass but really, ain’t no fixin’ her.”
Rodney had thanked the man for his somewhat disturbing honesty and rousing himself out of bed so late and had gone to find John behind the garage, who was kicking stones in the dust with his hands dug deep in his jean’s pockets.
He looked up at Rodney’s approach and smiled wanly, knowing the news wasn’t going to be good. “He said-“
“It’s dead?” John guessed and at Rodney’s nod, his jaw tightened and he put hands on Rodney’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “You understand it’s not really good for us to be stranded right now?”
“I know that,” Rodney huffed. “The smelly man said there was a bus that runs through this town once a day but we missed it by an hour. We’ll get a room and I’ll make some calls and…” he looked at John, who had dropped his hands away and had gone back to kicking up dust devils and Rodney sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. We’re going to be okay.”
John looked up and his brow was knotted in frustration. “We aren’t going to be okay Rodney. Neither of us knows what the fuck we’re doing. I think we’ve gotten this far on pure luck and that was bound to run out sooner or later.” John was back to studying his boots when he said, “I’m going to wind up getting you killed.”
“Hey, no one’s dying here,” Rodney protested, but his voice rose in a worried squeak at the end which made John look up at him sharply. Rodney cleared his throat, looked around quickly and then wrapped a hand around the back of John’s neck, thumb rubbing just under his ear. “I’m the smartest person currently living and you’re some kind of… well, you just pushed a car a couple of miles without breaking a sweat. I’m quietly confident.”
John looked at Rodney for a few beats before finally snorting and dropping his head, letting Rodney work fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “What made you do it? What made you give up any chance you had at a normal life for me?” John asked, but so quietly that Rodney wasn’t sure he was expecting an answer.
“I just…seeing you I…needed to,” Rodney answered anyway.
~~~
The first time they had kissed, it was Rodney who had instigated, which surprised the hell out of them both.
They’d been on the run for a week and were checking into yet another motel. In trying to open the door to their room, John had fumbled the keys and dropped them. He’d half-snorted at his clumsiness and bent down to pick them up. Just as he’d straightened, a wry grin still on his face, Rodney had almost jerked forward, landing a kiss that had missed centre and caught John on the left-most corner of his mouth.
When Rodney had stepped away, blinking owlishly and looking pretty startled at himself, John had chuckled, then laughed, then full out guffawed so hard he had to lean over and put hands on his knees.
Rodney, looking indignant, had crossed his arms over his chest and huffed while John’s hysterics had tapered off. “Okay, yes that was bad, but I wouldn’t call it hilarious,” Rodney had grumbled and then had instinctively put his hands up in front of his face when John reached for him.
John had shaken his head, batted Rodney’s hands aside, and grabbed his face, yanking Rodney forward and putting their mouths together. Rodney’s lips were slightly parted in surprise so John was able to catch his bottom lip between his own and he’d darted out his tongue and licked just the once, knowing it was the best reassurance he could offer.
When he’d let Rodney go, the other man had been panting heavily and looking mussed and still pretty startled. “Okay, that was much, much better,” Rodney had nodded.
John managed to get the door open and had walked Rodney inside. “You drive all the time, how about giving me a turn?” John had asked and Rodney hadn’t found any objection with that idea at all.
~~~
He hated independent contractors.
Mostly because when they should be hunting their prey, instead they were wasting time trying to eliminate the competition.
He looked up, registering no surprise as two large men kicked in his motel door, entering behind their drawn pistols. He watched them with an almost bored expression as they both levelled their firearms at him. He was sitting, stripped down to only a towel tied loosely around his waist.
“So the rumours are true. Jack O’Neill is still alive,” the larger of the two men sneered.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Jack sighed and reached forward. The armed men tensed until Jack picked up a towel from a pile he had liberated from the motel’s bathroom. “I’m guessing you’re not cops right?” he asked, rubbing the towel briskly over his dampened hair.
The same man chuckled. “Don’t be ludicrous,” he said, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “In their inimitable fashion, the NID have double-booked us and we’re not into sharing.”
“That was quick.” Jack commented humourlessly. “So, what happens now?”
“I see by your charming wardrobe that you’re not armed. If you’ll submit quietly, we can make this quick and painless.”
The armed man to his right drew a slim case from his breast pocket and removed a syringe from it. Jack chuckled and held out his arm and the man with the syringe blinked at him in surprise. He moved forward and stabbed the syringe into Jack’s arm. Before he could depress it, Jack slammed his hand upwards, breaking the syringe and removing the gun the man had holstered in one smooth movement. He raised himself from his sitting position and pulled the man in front of his own body so the bullet meant for Jack, fired by the man’s partner slammed into the henchman instead. Jack brought his arm with the gun up underneath the now screaming man’s own arm and fired three shots, all slamming into the other man’s left leg. The second man pitched backwards and both armed men hit the floor in the same instant.
Jack removed the broken syringe needle from his arm and raised his eyes, watching his assailants writhing on the floor, one holding his shoulder and the other his leg. “I bet you’re feeling a little stupid right now,” Jack grinned coldly.
“I mean, c’mon, I’m wearing a towel.”
~~~
“No, Beckett. Capital B, e, c…no, don’t put me on hold again! Goddamit!”
Rodney slammed the payphone against its cradle so hard the ear piece cracked. He looked up to see a small blonde girl with a hula hoop around her middle, staring at him with a gap-toothed ‘O’ of surprise. Rodney hooked his hand not holding the phone into a claw and bared his teeth at her and she scurried off. Rodney realised only a minute later that all he’d one was make himself interesting as she showed up again, followed by four other little urchins. Rodney slowly turned his back on them and cradled the now broken phone carefully to his ear.
“Yes, I understand that information is confidential. Can you just… yes I understand that but…no, well, can I just…I know that but…oh fine. I’m sorry, but is anyone else there that I can talk to, you know, someone with an actual iota of intelligence that has not just been hired because they managed to scratch out their name on a piece of paper? Hello? Hel-lo!”
Rodney slammed the phone down on the cradle but it swung free. He watched it pendulum back and forward for a few beats before grabbing it and tossing it viciously. It bounced off the phone housing and whacked him in the shoulder and he yelped and danced backwards.
The children cheered.
Rodney stalked back to the small roadside motel he had secured John in, skin pink with anger and embarrassment and slammed into the room, knowing he could make as much noise as he liked because John would remain obliviously unconscious. John was on his back with one arm over his eyes, in exactly the same position that he had lain down in.
Rodney crossed the room to him and pushed him over until he could stretch out beside him, knowing that John would hate it, but there had only been one room available strangely enough, and only one double bed. Rodney had taken one look at the stained couch that was the only other piece of furniture in the room and his back had twinged at the very thought. He’d decided to just wait until John was out before he crawled into bed to avoid the same old argument.
After an hour of seething without any sleep, he leaned over and turned the bedside lamp on, pulling both their bags that were on the floor up onto the mattress. He rummaged through his own but finding nothing interesting, went through John’s instead.
One sweatshirt, one t-shirt and two pairs of jeans were the sum total of John’s possessions, apart from the pair of sweats and t-shirt he was now wearing and a battered copy of War and Peace they had picked up in the same thrift store they had gotten the clothes. When Rodney had asked him why he had bought that particular book, John had looked confused for a moment, before shrugging and saying, “It was the biggest.”
The book had a dog-ear to mark John’s place, only fifteen pages in. He couldn’t exactly read until he fell asleep because as soon as the sun came up he was simply out, so he’d really only been able to read when they’d been driving, something Rodney who had always been prone to horrible motion sickness, had complained bitterly about but inwardly hadn’t really minded much.
John seemed to enjoy just the simple act of doing something because he chose to.
Rodney cracked open the book and looked at the inside of the front cover. Written very carefully and neatly on the ‘this book belongs to’ sticker inside, was ‘John Sheppard’. Rodney looked at it for a while, tracing his thumb over the name, frowning slightly.
He looked back down at John, motionless and unbreathing and then back at the name so carefully rendered.
Rodney got up and pulled a spare blanket out of the linen cupboard in the room, pausing only to put the book back in John’s bag before crossing to the couch and settling onto it.
~~~
Jack used a diner phone a block down from the motel.
“O’Neill, code seven, twenty, seven, nine. Secure line.”
“Acknowledged. Go ahead.”
“You send anyone else, and I mean anyone, and I make this a termination, not a retrieval. You got that?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, the sound of a throat clearing and then, “Understood. Now, you know-“
Jack hung up and then tipped the waitress who had let him use the phone a smile. She blushed prettily as she moved over to him and set the phone back underneath the counter.
Jack left a twenty as a tip.
Part Three
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: Adult Themes
Word Count: 2,035
Spoilers: None
Category: AU
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine
Summary: Rodney cleared his throat, looked around quickly and then wrapped a hand around the back of John’s neck, thumb rubbing just under his ear. “I’m the smartest person currently living and you’re some kind of… well, you just pushed a car a couple of miles without breaking a sweat. I’m quietly confident.”
As expected, the Volvo dies outside a one horse, okay, one petrol station town, just long enough after they had bought it for Rodney to be convinced that it had been held together with gaffa tape and a prayer in the first place. They were about ten minutes outside the town limits and John had silently motioned Rodney into the driver’s seat again after the hood had been lifted and Rodney had had enough time to swear and decide that he couldn’t really do anything other than swear at it. John had pushed them the rest of the way, head bent low and legs pumping and Rodney was left to simply steer, not wanting to think about the fact that after a little while they were probably travelling faster than when he’d actually been driving.
“Engine’s seized,” the mechanic who’d only ever had a passing acquaintance with a shower, informed Rodney. “I could blow smoke up your ass but really, ain’t no fixin’ her.”
Rodney had thanked the man for his somewhat disturbing honesty and rousing himself out of bed so late and had gone to find John behind the garage, who was kicking stones in the dust with his hands dug deep in his jean’s pockets.
He looked up at Rodney’s approach and smiled wanly, knowing the news wasn’t going to be good. “He said-“
“It’s dead?” John guessed and at Rodney’s nod, his jaw tightened and he put hands on Rodney’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “You understand it’s not really good for us to be stranded right now?”
“I know that,” Rodney huffed. “The smelly man said there was a bus that runs through this town once a day but we missed it by an hour. We’ll get a room and I’ll make some calls and…” he looked at John, who had dropped his hands away and had gone back to kicking up dust devils and Rodney sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. We’re going to be okay.”
John looked up and his brow was knotted in frustration. “We aren’t going to be okay Rodney. Neither of us knows what the fuck we’re doing. I think we’ve gotten this far on pure luck and that was bound to run out sooner or later.” John was back to studying his boots when he said, “I’m going to wind up getting you killed.”
“Hey, no one’s dying here,” Rodney protested, but his voice rose in a worried squeak at the end which made John look up at him sharply. Rodney cleared his throat, looked around quickly and then wrapped a hand around the back of John’s neck, thumb rubbing just under his ear. “I’m the smartest person currently living and you’re some kind of… well, you just pushed a car a couple of miles without breaking a sweat. I’m quietly confident.”
John looked at Rodney for a few beats before finally snorting and dropping his head, letting Rodney work fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “What made you do it? What made you give up any chance you had at a normal life for me?” John asked, but so quietly that Rodney wasn’t sure he was expecting an answer.
“I just…seeing you I…needed to,” Rodney answered anyway.
~~~
The first time they had kissed, it was Rodney who had instigated, which surprised the hell out of them both.
They’d been on the run for a week and were checking into yet another motel. In trying to open the door to their room, John had fumbled the keys and dropped them. He’d half-snorted at his clumsiness and bent down to pick them up. Just as he’d straightened, a wry grin still on his face, Rodney had almost jerked forward, landing a kiss that had missed centre and caught John on the left-most corner of his mouth.
When Rodney had stepped away, blinking owlishly and looking pretty startled at himself, John had chuckled, then laughed, then full out guffawed so hard he had to lean over and put hands on his knees.
Rodney, looking indignant, had crossed his arms over his chest and huffed while John’s hysterics had tapered off. “Okay, yes that was bad, but I wouldn’t call it hilarious,” Rodney had grumbled and then had instinctively put his hands up in front of his face when John reached for him.
John had shaken his head, batted Rodney’s hands aside, and grabbed his face, yanking Rodney forward and putting their mouths together. Rodney’s lips were slightly parted in surprise so John was able to catch his bottom lip between his own and he’d darted out his tongue and licked just the once, knowing it was the best reassurance he could offer.
When he’d let Rodney go, the other man had been panting heavily and looking mussed and still pretty startled. “Okay, that was much, much better,” Rodney had nodded.
John managed to get the door open and had walked Rodney inside. “You drive all the time, how about giving me a turn?” John had asked and Rodney hadn’t found any objection with that idea at all.
~~~
He hated independent contractors.
Mostly because when they should be hunting their prey, instead they were wasting time trying to eliminate the competition.
He looked up, registering no surprise as two large men kicked in his motel door, entering behind their drawn pistols. He watched them with an almost bored expression as they both levelled their firearms at him. He was sitting, stripped down to only a towel tied loosely around his waist.
“So the rumours are true. Jack O’Neill is still alive,” the larger of the two men sneered.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Jack sighed and reached forward. The armed men tensed until Jack picked up a towel from a pile he had liberated from the motel’s bathroom. “I’m guessing you’re not cops right?” he asked, rubbing the towel briskly over his dampened hair.
The same man chuckled. “Don’t be ludicrous,” he said, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “In their inimitable fashion, the NID have double-booked us and we’re not into sharing.”
“That was quick.” Jack commented humourlessly. “So, what happens now?”
“I see by your charming wardrobe that you’re not armed. If you’ll submit quietly, we can make this quick and painless.”
The armed man to his right drew a slim case from his breast pocket and removed a syringe from it. Jack chuckled and held out his arm and the man with the syringe blinked at him in surprise. He moved forward and stabbed the syringe into Jack’s arm. Before he could depress it, Jack slammed his hand upwards, breaking the syringe and removing the gun the man had holstered in one smooth movement. He raised himself from his sitting position and pulled the man in front of his own body so the bullet meant for Jack, fired by the man’s partner slammed into the henchman instead. Jack brought his arm with the gun up underneath the now screaming man’s own arm and fired three shots, all slamming into the other man’s left leg. The second man pitched backwards and both armed men hit the floor in the same instant.
Jack removed the broken syringe needle from his arm and raised his eyes, watching his assailants writhing on the floor, one holding his shoulder and the other his leg. “I bet you’re feeling a little stupid right now,” Jack grinned coldly.
“I mean, c’mon, I’m wearing a towel.”
~~~
“No, Beckett. Capital B, e, c…no, don’t put me on hold again! Goddamit!”
Rodney slammed the payphone against its cradle so hard the ear piece cracked. He looked up to see a small blonde girl with a hula hoop around her middle, staring at him with a gap-toothed ‘O’ of surprise. Rodney hooked his hand not holding the phone into a claw and bared his teeth at her and she scurried off. Rodney realised only a minute later that all he’d one was make himself interesting as she showed up again, followed by four other little urchins. Rodney slowly turned his back on them and cradled the now broken phone carefully to his ear.
“Yes, I understand that information is confidential. Can you just… yes I understand that but…no, well, can I just…I know that but…oh fine. I’m sorry, but is anyone else there that I can talk to, you know, someone with an actual iota of intelligence that has not just been hired because they managed to scratch out their name on a piece of paper? Hello? Hel-lo!”
Rodney slammed the phone down on the cradle but it swung free. He watched it pendulum back and forward for a few beats before grabbing it and tossing it viciously. It bounced off the phone housing and whacked him in the shoulder and he yelped and danced backwards.
The children cheered.
Rodney stalked back to the small roadside motel he had secured John in, skin pink with anger and embarrassment and slammed into the room, knowing he could make as much noise as he liked because John would remain obliviously unconscious. John was on his back with one arm over his eyes, in exactly the same position that he had lain down in.
Rodney crossed the room to him and pushed him over until he could stretch out beside him, knowing that John would hate it, but there had only been one room available strangely enough, and only one double bed. Rodney had taken one look at the stained couch that was the only other piece of furniture in the room and his back had twinged at the very thought. He’d decided to just wait until John was out before he crawled into bed to avoid the same old argument.
After an hour of seething without any sleep, he leaned over and turned the bedside lamp on, pulling both their bags that were on the floor up onto the mattress. He rummaged through his own but finding nothing interesting, went through John’s instead.
One sweatshirt, one t-shirt and two pairs of jeans were the sum total of John’s possessions, apart from the pair of sweats and t-shirt he was now wearing and a battered copy of War and Peace they had picked up in the same thrift store they had gotten the clothes. When Rodney had asked him why he had bought that particular book, John had looked confused for a moment, before shrugging and saying, “It was the biggest.”
The book had a dog-ear to mark John’s place, only fifteen pages in. He couldn’t exactly read until he fell asleep because as soon as the sun came up he was simply out, so he’d really only been able to read when they’d been driving, something Rodney who had always been prone to horrible motion sickness, had complained bitterly about but inwardly hadn’t really minded much.
John seemed to enjoy just the simple act of doing something because he chose to.
Rodney cracked open the book and looked at the inside of the front cover. Written very carefully and neatly on the ‘this book belongs to’ sticker inside, was ‘John Sheppard’. Rodney looked at it for a while, tracing his thumb over the name, frowning slightly.
He looked back down at John, motionless and unbreathing and then back at the name so carefully rendered.
Rodney got up and pulled a spare blanket out of the linen cupboard in the room, pausing only to put the book back in John’s bag before crossing to the couch and settling onto it.
~~~
Jack used a diner phone a block down from the motel.
“O’Neill, code seven, twenty, seven, nine. Secure line.”
“Acknowledged. Go ahead.”
“You send anyone else, and I mean anyone, and I make this a termination, not a retrieval. You got that?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, the sound of a throat clearing and then, “Understood. Now, you know-“
Jack hung up and then tipped the waitress who had let him use the phone a smile. She blushed prettily as she moved over to him and set the phone back underneath the counter.
Jack left a twenty as a tip.
Part Three
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