Fic: Ghost in the Machine
Dec. 24th, 2005 07:24 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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sga_santaTitle: Ghost in the Machine
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hyperfocused
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: R
Recipient:temaris
Spoilers: Vague ones for Home
Summary: There are 3 Ghosts, and some Christmas caroling, but it’s not quite Dickens. Title and section headings from The Police. I’m betting John and Rodney would have been fans – for entirely different reasons.
A/N: Written for Temaris, who said “Things I'd like: McShep. Schmoop, plotty stuff, geeky stuff, pwp, h/c, action -- I really don't mind. Things I wouldn't like: Please, no threesomes, no unhappy endings, no domestic discipline and ideally, no small children.” I hope this passes muster.
Past: Too Much Information
If you had told John Sheppard that he’d be spending Christmas 2005 in another galaxy, eating ersatz gingerbread men with his physicist boyfriend, he’d have told you “Jesus, Dex, lay off the bong, will ya?” Not that he’d used one since they were in college together – the Air Force not being big on having their pilots impaired – of course.
If you had gone on to say that the cookies would have long, white icing hair, and that biting their heads off would be the most satisfying feeling John had had in weeks (fully clothed at least) John would ask you to pass that same bong over.
Luckily you’re dead. Well, maybe not so luckily, considering, and certainly John doesn’t think it’s so fortunate. God knows it’s kept him up more nights than he’d like to count, and really, if it weren’t for you and Mitch he’d never be here, in this improbable place.
It’s a good thing you aren’t truly here watching this, because John doesn’t know what you’d do if you saw him do what he does next. How he shoves the plate away, and says “Here, you can eat these later. I’m in the mood for a different man-shaped treat.” And how Rodney looks at him like John’s the big dork, but responds enthusiastically when John kisses him. John certainly doesn’t know that you wouldn’t be all that shocked to see him like this. Yeah, maybe you’d be a bit surprised it was that guy – frankly he’s a little bit soft --, but you always knew John wasn’t completely straight.
You remember the way he used to look at you, and how he never got up the nerve to say anything. You’d caught him watching as you jerked off in your bunk, and heard him trying to match his pace to yours. Back then, you don’t know what you would have done if he had tried to touch you. He was your best friend, but you weren’t that kind of close. Now, with the perspective of the dead, you think ‘what could it have hurt?’ You could have given him that, if you’d only known.
But when you think about it further, you know that you could never give him what he needs, that even some comfort in the night wouldn’t do the trick. He needs what Rodney can give him. A fine mind to challenge him, strength of will to brace him, and someone who needs John, as well. John has never done the usual thing, and he never goes in for half measures when a full one will do.
John’s definitely working in full measures now, you note. Being dead, time has no meaning to you, and you’ve been woolgathering. Long enough that now John is on his knees, face pressed against Rodney’s really quite formidable erection, which is straining against his pants. Of course you look.
He’s dexterous as he reaches up to undo the button, then unzip them with his teeth – a trick you once saw him use on a blonde co-ed named Brenda, a lifetime ago., She’d been pretty damn vocal about the whole thing, but you knew it wasn’t as heady a sound to John as Rodney’s choked groans, and “ My God, Major.” You also know that despite his protests of “It’s Colonel now, Rodney. Or better yet, you could call me by my first name when your dick is in my mouth,” he gets off on being addressed by his title (even the old one) during such times. Knowing just about everything about just about everyone is one of the perks of being a ghost. It’s also one of the drawbacks.
Much as you can be happy for John now, getting hot and sweaty and happy himself, it’s time for you to go. There’s a whole universe to explore. But perhaps you’ll stop off for a quick unseen visit to Teyla. Now there’s a woman you can admire – especially now, as she towels off after sparring, and strips off her tight leather shirt. Or you could go visit Lt Cadman, with the silky blonde hair, and legs up to her perfect ass. Even John’s boss, Elizabeth, slim and feline in dark red – she could order you around any day – has an appeal. The beauty here on Atlantis is almost an embarrassment of riches, and you aren’t even talking about the scenery. It may be wrong to spy on the living, but you’re only (formerly) human. You’re dead, but you’re not dead.
Present: Every Little Thing She Does is Magic
You aren’t a ghost, not in the traditional sense. You’ve never had a body to leave behind. It’s more like you’re the embodiment of this place. You exist in the here and now, just as much as you existed in the ‘then’.
It was John Sheppard that woke you up, out of a sound and peaceful sleep, and made you spark and burn and want to be real. He wasn’t even in the galaxy when it happened, but you felt it, light years away.
You primped and preened and prepared for his entrance into what he and his people called the Pegasus galaxy. They’re your people now, but nobody belongs to you as much as John does.
When they arrived, you were ready, your beautiful secrets there to be discovered, your challenges to be met. John was lucky. He had another mind to play with, quick and fine and beautiful in its own right. A spirit to rival yours, with a body to comfort your John Sheppard at night.
You are too enlightened to be jealous that it isn’t you he seeks. You will love him with every crystal; watch over him with every wave. You share your secrets with the one John loves, knowing he needs to learn, knowing he’s worthy.
Future: Rehumanize Yourself
You aren’t a ghost, you aren’t a person, but someday you might be. If just the right combination of modern science and alien magic combine, you will become real. You won’t be an expected gift, more of an unexpected blessing.
John and Rodney both will thank God for artificial wombs, Ancient medical technology, and the fact that Beckett only asked them “So which of you wants to be the little woman, and which the proud Papa?” once before letting them in on the fact that the entity wouldn’t need to grow inside either of its flummoxed creators.
John will complain that your constant whining is keeping him from sleeping, or having any kind of decent sex. Rodney will gripe that no child ( that by all known laws of physics shouldn’t even have been born) ought have this much vomit inside him, but they’ll both dote on you like mad. And everyone will say that you take after your fathers, but they’ll never agree on whether this is a good thing.
Author:
hyperfocusedPairing: John/Rodney
Rating: R
Recipient:
temarisSpoilers: Vague ones for Home
Summary: There are 3 Ghosts, and some Christmas caroling, but it’s not quite Dickens. Title and section headings from The Police. I’m betting John and Rodney would have been fans – for entirely different reasons.
A/N: Written for Temaris, who said “Things I'd like: McShep. Schmoop, plotty stuff, geeky stuff, pwp, h/c, action -- I really don't mind. Things I wouldn't like: Please, no threesomes, no unhappy endings, no domestic discipline and ideally, no small children.” I hope this passes muster.
Past: Too Much Information
If you had told John Sheppard that he’d be spending Christmas 2005 in another galaxy, eating ersatz gingerbread men with his physicist boyfriend, he’d have told you “Jesus, Dex, lay off the bong, will ya?” Not that he’d used one since they were in college together – the Air Force not being big on having their pilots impaired – of course.
If you had gone on to say that the cookies would have long, white icing hair, and that biting their heads off would be the most satisfying feeling John had had in weeks (fully clothed at least) John would ask you to pass that same bong over.
Luckily you’re dead. Well, maybe not so luckily, considering, and certainly John doesn’t think it’s so fortunate. God knows it’s kept him up more nights than he’d like to count, and really, if it weren’t for you and Mitch he’d never be here, in this improbable place.
It’s a good thing you aren’t truly here watching this, because John doesn’t know what you’d do if you saw him do what he does next. How he shoves the plate away, and says “Here, you can eat these later. I’m in the mood for a different man-shaped treat.” And how Rodney looks at him like John’s the big dork, but responds enthusiastically when John kisses him. John certainly doesn’t know that you wouldn’t be all that shocked to see him like this. Yeah, maybe you’d be a bit surprised it was that guy – frankly he’s a little bit soft --, but you always knew John wasn’t completely straight.
You remember the way he used to look at you, and how he never got up the nerve to say anything. You’d caught him watching as you jerked off in your bunk, and heard him trying to match his pace to yours. Back then, you don’t know what you would have done if he had tried to touch you. He was your best friend, but you weren’t that kind of close. Now, with the perspective of the dead, you think ‘what could it have hurt?’ You could have given him that, if you’d only known.
But when you think about it further, you know that you could never give him what he needs, that even some comfort in the night wouldn’t do the trick. He needs what Rodney can give him. A fine mind to challenge him, strength of will to brace him, and someone who needs John, as well. John has never done the usual thing, and he never goes in for half measures when a full one will do.
John’s definitely working in full measures now, you note. Being dead, time has no meaning to you, and you’ve been woolgathering. Long enough that now John is on his knees, face pressed against Rodney’s really quite formidable erection, which is straining against his pants. Of course you look.
He’s dexterous as he reaches up to undo the button, then unzip them with his teeth – a trick you once saw him use on a blonde co-ed named Brenda, a lifetime ago., She’d been pretty damn vocal about the whole thing, but you knew it wasn’t as heady a sound to John as Rodney’s choked groans, and “ My God, Major.” You also know that despite his protests of “It’s Colonel now, Rodney. Or better yet, you could call me by my first name when your dick is in my mouth,” he gets off on being addressed by his title (even the old one) during such times. Knowing just about everything about just about everyone is one of the perks of being a ghost. It’s also one of the drawbacks.
Much as you can be happy for John now, getting hot and sweaty and happy himself, it’s time for you to go. There’s a whole universe to explore. But perhaps you’ll stop off for a quick unseen visit to Teyla. Now there’s a woman you can admire – especially now, as she towels off after sparring, and strips off her tight leather shirt. Or you could go visit Lt Cadman, with the silky blonde hair, and legs up to her perfect ass. Even John’s boss, Elizabeth, slim and feline in dark red – she could order you around any day – has an appeal. The beauty here on Atlantis is almost an embarrassment of riches, and you aren’t even talking about the scenery. It may be wrong to spy on the living, but you’re only (formerly) human. You’re dead, but you’re not dead.
Present: Every Little Thing She Does is Magic
You aren’t a ghost, not in the traditional sense. You’ve never had a body to leave behind. It’s more like you’re the embodiment of this place. You exist in the here and now, just as much as you existed in the ‘then’.
It was John Sheppard that woke you up, out of a sound and peaceful sleep, and made you spark and burn and want to be real. He wasn’t even in the galaxy when it happened, but you felt it, light years away.
You primped and preened and prepared for his entrance into what he and his people called the Pegasus galaxy. They’re your people now, but nobody belongs to you as much as John does.
When they arrived, you were ready, your beautiful secrets there to be discovered, your challenges to be met. John was lucky. He had another mind to play with, quick and fine and beautiful in its own right. A spirit to rival yours, with a body to comfort your John Sheppard at night.
You are too enlightened to be jealous that it isn’t you he seeks. You will love him with every crystal; watch over him with every wave. You share your secrets with the one John loves, knowing he needs to learn, knowing he’s worthy.
Future: Rehumanize Yourself
You aren’t a ghost, you aren’t a person, but someday you might be. If just the right combination of modern science and alien magic combine, you will become real. You won’t be an expected gift, more of an unexpected blessing.
John and Rodney both will thank God for artificial wombs, Ancient medical technology, and the fact that Beckett only asked them “So which of you wants to be the little woman, and which the proud Papa?” once before letting them in on the fact that the entity wouldn’t need to grow inside either of its flummoxed creators.
John will complain that your constant whining is keeping him from sleeping, or having any kind of decent sex. Rodney will gripe that no child ( that by all known laws of physics shouldn’t even have been born) ought have this much vomit inside him, but they’ll both dote on you like mad. And everyone will say that you take after your fathers, but they’ll never agree on whether this is a good thing.
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