Three SGA Drabbles
Sep. 16th, 2007 04:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristen999I was bored last night and told the first three people to respond I'd write them a short SGA drabble if they gave me the prompt. Here are the results with the prompt at the end of each drabble.
-------------------------
“Whoops”
He can't stop thinking about Eastern European women, mostly tennis players in their short skirts, long legs and high cheek bones. His fingers dance over the keyboard, eyes switching from the computer screen to the petite, pissed off woman, whose glasses keep slipping down her nose.
“McKay!” She hisses.
Rodney steals a glance, thinking that a scarlet red lipstick would accent the rosy cheeks of the perturbed scientist.
No, no, no. He will not admit that his brain went there, nor acknowledge knowing about different color lipsticks.
Of course the shade would really go with her skin tone, he muses and quickly shakes his head from the preposterous thought.
“I'm sure I can find a way to reverse the process, just give me time to find---”
“I have a date tonight, Rodney!”
“You do?”
“Yes!”
She curses under her breath, waving agitated hands around, muttering words in her native tongue.
“Will you stop that! I can't think when you're jabbering in a language I can't understand.”
“You weren't watching where your gene activated fingers were going!”
“You shouldn't have been standing so close!”
Rodney stares at thousands of lines of code, shaking his head. “Who knew this lab was devoted to um...well.....I'm not sure what the purpose of developing such a piece of equipment,” he mumbles.
“Who cares! My voice is three octaves higher, I have curves where I shouldn't and vital parts are missing!
“But you have such lovely silky hair,” he mutters, ducking a flying book aimed at his head.
“Fix this!”
“Fine fine......but it's going to take a few hours, in the meantime, maybe we could think of a new name...how's Radine....that has a nice ring to it.”
Zelenka sashays towards him, probably unaware that she/he is swinging her hips. “You turned me into a woman! If you don't find a way to put me back, than I'm going to turn you into Rodnette!”
Rodney doesn't dare ask about mood swings right now. “If I can't find a solution, the ratio of men still outweighs females around here. You could have a date on every day of the week instead of the first one in a year.”
“I still have the video tape of you kissing, Beckett.”
He rises to his feet. “You wouldn't dare...it wasn't me!”
Zelenka glowers at him, blinking incredible long lashes and Rodney pounds on his laptop some more. “Now I know why your country resorted to mail order brides.”
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sly_fuck who wanted ancient tech to turn Radek into a girl.
----------------------------
“Alone”
Ronon closes his eyes, ignoring the world around him, fingers curling into the dirt by his boots. The Marines wait with restless energy, eyes drilling holes into his back, rubber soles scraping the surface from rounds of pacing. He's it—the last chance. When scanners and fancy technology fail them, they turn to years of instinct.
Lorne scouts ahead, but rainwater has washed away any trails, slamming shut one of the few remaining chances they have.
“I'm still not getting anything from their trackers,” Radek explains in a low voice.
“They might have been transported away on a ship.....or they've been cut out,” he answers.
“What about the blood? Anything?”
Ronon stares at the open air, the wind brushing over his braids. “It stops suddenly---like I said, they aren't here. They're off this planet.”
He can feel it in his bones, sense it the way his skin tingles, his heart stuttering along his breastbone. There's a hole -–a chasm sucking away the rest of his emotions, trying to fill the void of loss. It's up to him to replace it with anger or guilt for not getting here in time.
Ronon flinches when the scientist touches his shoulder—he allows very few to give him physical contact without permission.
He fixes the little man with a warning expression....back off, don't come near.
Zelenka, the quiet one--the more humble of the scientist holds his stare and throws it right back at him. “Then we will find them.”
The emptiness left by the kidnapping of his team is still there, but instead of blackness, he'll allow hope to take up the hollowness for now.
“Yes, we will,” Ronon promises.
Zelenka allows a tight smile and Ronon pats him on the shoulder, before tapping his head set. “Lorne, something tells me to go have a word with that nomadic tribe leader again.”
“Copy that...you found a clue?”
Ronon shakes his head. “No, just a hunch.”
“Roger, will meet you there.”
“Let me come with you...I...I.. could be of some help,” Zelenka offers.
“You already have,” Ronon answers and allows the Czech to follow him.
Forhelena_eternal who wanted a drabble set around this phrase: traces of something missing. Maybe Ronon/Radek friendship?
---------------------------------
“Stuck”
Rodney's nose was a deep red, his nostrils raw and over sensitive. Tissue paper cut like sand paper, barely able to soak up the running facet of his sinuses and he moaned over the unfairness of not being drugged to the gills until the misery was over with. If he moved too suddenly, his head pounded, screwing with his balance as he listed sideways away from the straw bed.
He didn't want to leave the meager comfort of the scratchy mattress, holding a clump of wadded Kleenex-like paper to plug his nose. His skin felt on fire, his undershirt sticking to his sweat drenched skin and he coughed when an itchiness irritated his chest. It was time to check up on Sheppard, who shivered under three blankets, obviously in the early phrase of his fever.
“I told you to take those off,” he grouched.
“I'm freezin',” Sheppard responded by rolling over.
“Enough of that,” Rodney complained, jerking down some of the blankets. “You're internal thermostat's off, remember.”
“Leave me alone, McKay...you're the one that got me sick to begin with.”
“Did not! I---”
His tirade was cut short by another round of hacking and the room spun dangerously when he wasn't able to draw enough air into his lungs. Rodney went to his knees, a tight band of pressure wrapping around his chest until he felt a hand rubbing between his shoulder blades.
After a battle for oxygen, Rodney sneezed hard enough to pop his ears and he sagged along the side of the colonel's bed. “God I want to die.”
Sheppard squeezed his shoulder. “Get back into bed, we're stuck here until we're deemed clean.”
“Who thought I'd miss Carson and his annoying mother henning,” Rodney grumbled getting back to his feet.
“You love it and you know it.”
Rodney stole a glance at the colonel, saw overly bright eyes and a flush to his cheeks. “You look like crap.”
Sheppard wrapped his arms around his shivering body, his pupils unfocused as he flopped back down, his body giving into weakness. “Just, cold.”
Not to be deterred, Rodney tugged at his bed, pulling it closer, knowing the next stage to the cold/flu bug from Hell wasn't going to be pretty for the pilot. “Wait till your nose explodes.”
He heard a moan in response and finished dragging the bed until they were next to each other before crawling back in.
“It's almost soup time, that's something to look forward to.”
Sheppard curled up on his side to face him. “Don't think I can eat.”
“You will and you'll like it, and don't even think about throwing it back up on me.”
“Why? I owe you for ruining my boots from yesterday.”
Rodney sighed, this was going to be a long three more days.
Forstarry_midnight who wanted Rodney or Sheppard with a cold..
There was one more at the cut off that I might get to later, since I'm sure I'll do this again later on.
-------------------------
“Whoops”
He can't stop thinking about Eastern European women, mostly tennis players in their short skirts, long legs and high cheek bones. His fingers dance over the keyboard, eyes switching from the computer screen to the petite, pissed off woman, whose glasses keep slipping down her nose.
“McKay!” She hisses.
Rodney steals a glance, thinking that a scarlet red lipstick would accent the rosy cheeks of the perturbed scientist.
No, no, no. He will not admit that his brain went there, nor acknowledge knowing about different color lipsticks.
Of course the shade would really go with her skin tone, he muses and quickly shakes his head from the preposterous thought.
“I'm sure I can find a way to reverse the process, just give me time to find---”
“I have a date tonight, Rodney!”
“You do?”
“Yes!”
She curses under her breath, waving agitated hands around, muttering words in her native tongue.
“Will you stop that! I can't think when you're jabbering in a language I can't understand.”
“You weren't watching where your gene activated fingers were going!”
“You shouldn't have been standing so close!”
Rodney stares at thousands of lines of code, shaking his head. “Who knew this lab was devoted to um...well.....I'm not sure what the purpose of developing such a piece of equipment,” he mumbles.
“Who cares! My voice is three octaves higher, I have curves where I shouldn't and vital parts are missing!
“But you have such lovely silky hair,” he mutters, ducking a flying book aimed at his head.
“Fix this!”
“Fine fine......but it's going to take a few hours, in the meantime, maybe we could think of a new name...how's Radine....that has a nice ring to it.”
Zelenka sashays towards him, probably unaware that she/he is swinging her hips. “You turned me into a woman! If you don't find a way to put me back, than I'm going to turn you into Rodnette!”
Rodney doesn't dare ask about mood swings right now. “If I can't find a solution, the ratio of men still outweighs females around here. You could have a date on every day of the week instead of the first one in a year.”
“I still have the video tape of you kissing, Beckett.”
He rises to his feet. “You wouldn't dare...it wasn't me!”
Zelenka glowers at him, blinking incredible long lashes and Rodney pounds on his laptop some more. “Now I know why your country resorted to mail order brides.”
For
sly_fuck who wanted ancient tech to turn Radek into a girl.----------------------------
“Alone”
Ronon closes his eyes, ignoring the world around him, fingers curling into the dirt by his boots. The Marines wait with restless energy, eyes drilling holes into his back, rubber soles scraping the surface from rounds of pacing. He's it—the last chance. When scanners and fancy technology fail them, they turn to years of instinct.
Lorne scouts ahead, but rainwater has washed away any trails, slamming shut one of the few remaining chances they have.
“I'm still not getting anything from their trackers,” Radek explains in a low voice.
“They might have been transported away on a ship.....or they've been cut out,” he answers.
“What about the blood? Anything?”
Ronon stares at the open air, the wind brushing over his braids. “It stops suddenly---like I said, they aren't here. They're off this planet.”
He can feel it in his bones, sense it the way his skin tingles, his heart stuttering along his breastbone. There's a hole -–a chasm sucking away the rest of his emotions, trying to fill the void of loss. It's up to him to replace it with anger or guilt for not getting here in time.
Ronon flinches when the scientist touches his shoulder—he allows very few to give him physical contact without permission.
He fixes the little man with a warning expression....back off, don't come near.
Zelenka, the quiet one--the more humble of the scientist holds his stare and throws it right back at him. “Then we will find them.”
The emptiness left by the kidnapping of his team is still there, but instead of blackness, he'll allow hope to take up the hollowness for now.
“Yes, we will,” Ronon promises.
Zelenka allows a tight smile and Ronon pats him on the shoulder, before tapping his head set. “Lorne, something tells me to go have a word with that nomadic tribe leader again.”
“Copy that...you found a clue?”
Ronon shakes his head. “No, just a hunch.”
“Roger, will meet you there.”
“Let me come with you...I...I.. could be of some help,” Zelenka offers.
“You already have,” Ronon answers and allows the Czech to follow him.
For
helena_eternal who wanted a drabble set around this phrase: traces of something missing. Maybe Ronon/Radek friendship?---------------------------------
“Stuck”
Rodney's nose was a deep red, his nostrils raw and over sensitive. Tissue paper cut like sand paper, barely able to soak up the running facet of his sinuses and he moaned over the unfairness of not being drugged to the gills until the misery was over with. If he moved too suddenly, his head pounded, screwing with his balance as he listed sideways away from the straw bed.
He didn't want to leave the meager comfort of the scratchy mattress, holding a clump of wadded Kleenex-like paper to plug his nose. His skin felt on fire, his undershirt sticking to his sweat drenched skin and he coughed when an itchiness irritated his chest. It was time to check up on Sheppard, who shivered under three blankets, obviously in the early phrase of his fever.
“I told you to take those off,” he grouched.
“I'm freezin',” Sheppard responded by rolling over.
“Enough of that,” Rodney complained, jerking down some of the blankets. “You're internal thermostat's off, remember.”
“Leave me alone, McKay...you're the one that got me sick to begin with.”
“Did not! I---”
His tirade was cut short by another round of hacking and the room spun dangerously when he wasn't able to draw enough air into his lungs. Rodney went to his knees, a tight band of pressure wrapping around his chest until he felt a hand rubbing between his shoulder blades.
After a battle for oxygen, Rodney sneezed hard enough to pop his ears and he sagged along the side of the colonel's bed. “God I want to die.”
Sheppard squeezed his shoulder. “Get back into bed, we're stuck here until we're deemed clean.”
“Who thought I'd miss Carson and his annoying mother henning,” Rodney grumbled getting back to his feet.
“You love it and you know it.”
Rodney stole a glance at the colonel, saw overly bright eyes and a flush to his cheeks. “You look like crap.”
Sheppard wrapped his arms around his shivering body, his pupils unfocused as he flopped back down, his body giving into weakness. “Just, cold.”
Not to be deterred, Rodney tugged at his bed, pulling it closer, knowing the next stage to the cold/flu bug from Hell wasn't going to be pretty for the pilot. “Wait till your nose explodes.”
He heard a moan in response and finished dragging the bed until they were next to each other before crawling back in.
“It's almost soup time, that's something to look forward to.”
Sheppard curled up on his side to face him. “Don't think I can eat.”
“You will and you'll like it, and don't even think about throwing it back up on me.”
“Why? I owe you for ruining my boots from yesterday.”
Rodney sighed, this was going to be a long three more days.
For
starry_midnight who wanted Rodney or Sheppard with a cold..There was one more at the cut off that I might get to later, since I'm sure I'll do this again later on.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-09-16 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 06:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-16 11:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 06:32 pm (UTC)thanks
no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 05:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 06:33 pm (UTC)thank you
no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 07:20 pm (UTC)That's a good thing, really, because they're just THAT good.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 09:15 pm (UTC)Of course we have the same taste, as I did sit back and liked where "Alone" and "Stuck' could go one day.
:-P
Thank you
no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-19 06:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-19 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-22 08:07 pm (UTC)I assume a team member is missing, probably John and Rodney, since Radek is coming along, too? And Teyla. This is really, really cool - you've inspired me to get back on my drabbles, too!
no subject
Date: 2007-09-24 04:50 am (UTC)Yeah the whole team is gone, so its Ronon and Radek to the rescue.