Fic: Conviction, A Checkmate 'Verse Fic
Title: Conviction
Series:Checkmate ‘Verse
Author: Beadattitude
Pairing: John/Rodney, pre-slash
Rating: For all audiences, this chapter
Beta: Unbeta’d, because I am greedy and impatient.
Warnings: Animal transformation, angst, schmoop, romance,
Author's Notes: Brainstorming assistance provided by adina_atl, crownglass39, sheafrotherdon, sonadorita, and zabira. I haven’t followed all of their suggestions, but they jump started me when I needed it, and a sweeter brain trust I've never seen.
This fic is part of the end game, and follows shortly after Conflicted and Comfort.
Summary: Rodney seems determined to be alone and miserable, and John is determined not to be.
Teaser:
By the second evening in his quarters, John Sheppard was bored, lonely, and about as furious as he’d ever been. (Johnny Cash’s constant surveillance wasn’t helping.)
~~~
If John had thought he’d bypassed having to move out of Rodney’s quarters, he was sadly mistaken. Rodney was determined to be selfless and make them both miserable, and no drooping or pleading looks, and certainly nothing John could say could stop him.
During the actual move, John was so angry he thought of just taking off for a couple of days, deep into the city, but in his heart he knew he didn’t really want to do that. Besides, Rodney would be frantic.
He sat on his balcony and looked out at the stars, resolutely turning his back on his now unfamiliar things and the stuff he’d been given in the last month. Rodney left without saying goodbye, which hurt a lot more than it should have.
By the second evening in his quarters, John Sheppard was bored, lonely, and about as furious as he’d ever been. (Johnny Cash’s constant surveillance wasn’t helping.) He didn’t want to wait out the time until his transformation alone. He didn’t want to transform alone.
Not that he wanted to go to the infirmary or anything, he just wanted Rodney to be there; needed him to be there. Would he just turn back into himself instantaneously, like he had seemed to back on Gata? He couldn’t quite remember exactly what had happened before there was a loud noise and he was running. Would he go through some sort of horrible werewolf-like transformation? Elizabeth had gotten remarkably little intel about the reversal of the process. It was worrying him.
And the one person who could help him through this could barely look him in the eye.
Rodney stumbling around the city like John was waiting to be hanged didn’t help matters. He had, without a doubt, the worst poker face John had ever seen, and every bit of reassurance his friends tried to give him only seemed to drive him deeper into gloom. Of course he seemed to deliberately not get what John tried to say to him, which made John want to bite him, but he figured that would put the conversation back even farther.
He wasn’t going to just sit here and let things continue to stew like this. He grabbed his bed by the ear and dragged it down the hall. It was clumsy and the fleece made his mouth itch, but dammit, he was making a point.
He thought Rodney’s door open and backed his way in, dragging the bunny bed inside. The door closed on its own and John turned around to find Rodney sitting at his desk, face lined and tired.
“John?” His voice sounded weak and sad, and he was slumped over a journal and lots of wrappers and cups, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt that wasn’t even funny. His hair was sticking up all over and he looked like he’d lost his best friend.
John was going to bite him. He couldn’t believe Rodney was giving up now.
“Aao!” John yelled, too mad to form words, but standing his ground. “Merrrrrrroooow!”
Rodney blinked but started looking more like himself. “What?” he said irritably. “What’s gotten into you?”
John dragged the bed to the center of the floor, marched into the bathroom to rinse the fleece out of his mouth (never again) and then scent-marked everything on the way back, including a swerve by Rodney to mark his bare leg, his foot, and his chair, which he’d never really cared about before, but a point was a point. He took a detour over to the bed and marked the picture, the bed, (all four corners) the pillow and Rodney’s third-favorite laptop. Having gotten that out of his system, he jumped down, crawled into his bed and glared.
“So, I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t spray anything,” Rodney huffed.
“Aowrrrr!” Stung, John turned his back on Rodney and plunked his head down between the bunny’s ears. Forty years old and sulking in one-half a pair of bunny slippers; his life had officially hit a new low. “Aow,” he cried softly, exhausted and sad from his outburst.
“Hey now,” Rodney said gently as he walked across the room. “Hey.” He sat cross legged in front of John, who looked at him from under his brow.
“You really didn’t want to leave.” Rodney said wonderingly, smile beginning to form at the corner of his mouth. “It wasn’t just some cat-not-liking-a-change-in-routine thing.”
”No,” he said, wishing he could roll his eyes. His voice came out so small he didn’t think Rodney could hear it. Miserable, he tried again and his voice squeaked out the barest reply. He closed his eyes, a little overwhelmed now that he saw Rodney’s kind, worried face.
Rodney stroked John’s head, and he leaned into it, eyes still closed, pushing up into the touch.
“So I was wrong,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” John’s voice was still choked to smallness.
“You big baby,” Rodney said affectionately. “That was some hissy fit.”
John opened his eyes to deliver a death glare. Rodney just grinned more.
“I can’t say I was unaffected by your departure.”
John looked at him for a long moment. Rodney blushed.
“You know.” He made a vague, embarrassed gesture.
"Yeah," John said, "Missed you, too"
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to you,” Rodney confided. “I’ve asked Elizabeth and Carson to find out. She said she was too shocked on the first trip to get more information.”
John got up,walked into Rodney’s lap and head-butted him in the chest. Rodney’s hands, gentle and slow, stroked down his back.
“And you’re sure you want to stay here? With me?” His voice wavered on the last word.
John just head-butted him over and over, getting at all the places on Rodney’s ribs where he was ticklish, pushing and wiggling as hard as he could until Rodney collapsed back on his elbows, laughing. John marched up his body until they were nose to nose.
”Yes,” he said firmly. ”You.”
Series:Checkmate ‘Verse
Author: Beadattitude
Pairing: John/Rodney, pre-slash
Rating: For all audiences, this chapter
Beta: Unbeta’d, because I am greedy and impatient.
Warnings: Animal transformation, angst, schmoop, romance,
Author's Notes: Brainstorming assistance provided by adina_atl, crownglass39, sheafrotherdon, sonadorita, and zabira. I haven’t followed all of their suggestions, but they jump started me when I needed it, and a sweeter brain trust I've never seen.
This fic is part of the end game, and follows shortly after Conflicted and Comfort.
Summary: Rodney seems determined to be alone and miserable, and John is determined not to be.
Teaser:
By the second evening in his quarters, John Sheppard was bored, lonely, and about as furious as he’d ever been. (Johnny Cash’s constant surveillance wasn’t helping.)
~~~
If John had thought he’d bypassed having to move out of Rodney’s quarters, he was sadly mistaken. Rodney was determined to be selfless and make them both miserable, and no drooping or pleading looks, and certainly nothing John could say could stop him.
During the actual move, John was so angry he thought of just taking off for a couple of days, deep into the city, but in his heart he knew he didn’t really want to do that. Besides, Rodney would be frantic.
He sat on his balcony and looked out at the stars, resolutely turning his back on his now unfamiliar things and the stuff he’d been given in the last month. Rodney left without saying goodbye, which hurt a lot more than it should have.
By the second evening in his quarters, John Sheppard was bored, lonely, and about as furious as he’d ever been. (Johnny Cash’s constant surveillance wasn’t helping.) He didn’t want to wait out the time until his transformation alone. He didn’t want to transform alone.
Not that he wanted to go to the infirmary or anything, he just wanted Rodney to be there; needed him to be there. Would he just turn back into himself instantaneously, like he had seemed to back on Gata? He couldn’t quite remember exactly what had happened before there was a loud noise and he was running. Would he go through some sort of horrible werewolf-like transformation? Elizabeth had gotten remarkably little intel about the reversal of the process. It was worrying him.
And the one person who could help him through this could barely look him in the eye.
Rodney stumbling around the city like John was waiting to be hanged didn’t help matters. He had, without a doubt, the worst poker face John had ever seen, and every bit of reassurance his friends tried to give him only seemed to drive him deeper into gloom. Of course he seemed to deliberately not get what John tried to say to him, which made John want to bite him, but he figured that would put the conversation back even farther.
He wasn’t going to just sit here and let things continue to stew like this. He grabbed his bed by the ear and dragged it down the hall. It was clumsy and the fleece made his mouth itch, but dammit, he was making a point.
He thought Rodney’s door open and backed his way in, dragging the bunny bed inside. The door closed on its own and John turned around to find Rodney sitting at his desk, face lined and tired.
“John?” His voice sounded weak and sad, and he was slumped over a journal and lots of wrappers and cups, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt that wasn’t even funny. His hair was sticking up all over and he looked like he’d lost his best friend.
John was going to bite him. He couldn’t believe Rodney was giving up now.
“Aao!” John yelled, too mad to form words, but standing his ground. “Merrrrrrroooow!”
Rodney blinked but started looking more like himself. “What?” he said irritably. “What’s gotten into you?”
John dragged the bed to the center of the floor, marched into the bathroom to rinse the fleece out of his mouth (never again) and then scent-marked everything on the way back, including a swerve by Rodney to mark his bare leg, his foot, and his chair, which he’d never really cared about before, but a point was a point. He took a detour over to the bed and marked the picture, the bed, (all four corners) the pillow and Rodney’s third-favorite laptop. Having gotten that out of his system, he jumped down, crawled into his bed and glared.
“So, I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t spray anything,” Rodney huffed.
“Aowrrrr!” Stung, John turned his back on Rodney and plunked his head down between the bunny’s ears. Forty years old and sulking in one-half a pair of bunny slippers; his life had officially hit a new low. “Aow,” he cried softly, exhausted and sad from his outburst.
“Hey now,” Rodney said gently as he walked across the room. “Hey.” He sat cross legged in front of John, who looked at him from under his brow.
“You really didn’t want to leave.” Rodney said wonderingly, smile beginning to form at the corner of his mouth. “It wasn’t just some cat-not-liking-a-change-in-routine thing.”
”No,” he said, wishing he could roll his eyes. His voice came out so small he didn’t think Rodney could hear it. Miserable, he tried again and his voice squeaked out the barest reply. He closed his eyes, a little overwhelmed now that he saw Rodney’s kind, worried face.
Rodney stroked John’s head, and he leaned into it, eyes still closed, pushing up into the touch.
“So I was wrong,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” John’s voice was still choked to smallness.
“You big baby,” Rodney said affectionately. “That was some hissy fit.”
John opened his eyes to deliver a death glare. Rodney just grinned more.
“I can’t say I was unaffected by your departure.”
John looked at him for a long moment. Rodney blushed.
“You know.” He made a vague, embarrassed gesture.
"Yeah," John said, "Missed you, too"
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to you,” Rodney confided. “I’ve asked Elizabeth and Carson to find out. She said she was too shocked on the first trip to get more information.”
John got up,walked into Rodney’s lap and head-butted him in the chest. Rodney’s hands, gentle and slow, stroked down his back.
“And you’re sure you want to stay here? With me?” His voice wavered on the last word.
John just head-butted him over and over, getting at all the places on Rodney’s ribs where he was ticklish, pushing and wiggling as hard as he could until Rodney collapsed back on his elbows, laughing. John marched up his body until they were nose to nose.
”Yes,” he said firmly. ”You.”