Fic: Stargate Atlantis. "The Devil Went Down To Pegasus"
Disclaimer: I do not own the Stargate: Atlantis characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I recognise no financial returns from these works, whatsoever.
Title: "The Devil Went Down To Pegasus"
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Genre: Gen, Humour
Word Count: 978 (approx)
Rating: PG (if even)
Spoilers: None
Credits: Thank you thekatebeyond, rinkle, and jennukes for betaing this.
Author's Notes:I was listening to Charlie Daniels Band's "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" and the idea occurred to me of him going somewhere else - Atlantis came to mind. It was only later that certain parallels emerged. It should be noted that I've pulled the last line straight from the song. And no… I don't own any rights to it either, that's why I'm citing my sources, here and now. None of the lines marked with an asterix (albeit a small, pale link-type one) are mine.
Summary"My name's Johnny, and it may be a sin, but I'll take your bet, and you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best there's ever been!" *
The Devil Went Down To Pegasus
Johnny, rosin up your bow
And play that fiddle hard
'Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia
And the devil deals the cards
And if you win you'll get this shiny fiddle made of gold
But if you lose, the devil'll get your soul… *
"Um… hurry." Rodney glanced up to check the door of the extremely small, one-entryway-no-exit room - well, unless you counted the deep, spike-lined pit along the sides of the room as an exit, albeit a terminal one - then down to the electronic lock that John was currently fiddling with. The lock was on a strongbox that contained a Wraith stunner. Which was good, because somewhere back in the labyrinth of corridors behind them was a deranged Wraith. Even more deranged than the usual Wraith, when it came down to it. Rodney was pretty sure this one had a good deal of cat in its DNA, along with the usual humanoid/bug mix. No other species had so much fun playing with its food.
"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. Don't rush me." John bent over the box again. Breaking this code was bound to be complicated - Rodney had given up ten minutes ago, arguing that John was better suited to figure out something mathematical in a hurry - after which he'd bitched and complained while helping John pull it over to this angle, despite John's protests that the light was better. He would have thought Rodney wanted to get out of here, alive.
"This is your fault, you know." Rodney blew into his fists, hyperventilating. "You just had to go tell a Wraith that you were the great John Sheppard, Master of the Universe, Genius at Everything…"
"You were the one who claimed the title of 'Genius at Everything'," John countered. "I just said that there wasn't a challenge I would fail to meet." He continued to study the numbers. "Besides, those girls were hot. And they were offering us a ZPM"
"Yes, yes, and I forgot you were someone incapable of any thinking done above the waistline."
"Right, McKay, because I'm the one that said there wasn't a single challenge their puny little society could create that would come close to taxing the supreme intellect and physical prowess of Rodney McKay and John Sheppard." John frowned. There was something strange here. "I'm surprised you included me."
"Well, after all, there might have been the possibility of heavy lifting or other dangerous tasks. I wanted to be sure I had all the angles covered. That is something a Genius at Everything does, after all."
"Uh-huh…"
"It's not my fault that these people turned out to be Wraith-worshippers and their leader - whom you might just have wanted to find out a little about before trying to negotiate some sort of deal with these people - is a Wraith so psycho that the other Wraith want to hunt him down and kill him, and that his idea of fun is to challenge his prey to a one-on-one - or in this case a two-on-one - challenge of brains and skill, running them through a maze before he pounces on them and devours them."
"No, McKay." It probably wasn't, really. The better answer was that there had been something in the ceremonial tea that incited bravado, and anyway, those women had been really, really hot. They'd made the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders look like a pack of worn-out, middle-aged suburban housewives. Which should have been a warning that the whole thing was a set-up, because women that hot did not - in any known galaxy - fawn that much over a guy like Rodney. Which was something John might have noticed, had six more of them not been fawning over him. Which, he had to admit, made a hell of a lot more sense than them fawning over Rodney.
"And anyway, I'd hardly say it was fair the way he laughed when he said he had no fear of us working together, because a snivelling coward like me needed all the help he could get. I am not a snivelling coward…"
"No, McKay."
"I rarely snivel. And I think we can admit that if I'm not the Rambo-Terminator-Captain America that you are, then those personality traits have still served us well in keeping us alive in numerous situations where we might have otherwise perished."
"Yes, McKay." John started humming under his breath to tune out Rodney's snivelling.
"And I know you're ignoring me, Colonel, but…" Rodney stopped suddenly, his head jerking up and his eyes growing wide.
John didn't bother to turn, instead staring deep into Rodney's wide and rather-reflective-in-this-light eyes. Yup, just what he expected. He yanked the strongbox open and spun around, firing the stunner as soon as he had a target. Nothing happened; then again, he'd expected that, too. After all, what kind of a hunter gave its prey a fair chance?
The Wraith grinned hungrily and stepped forward. Behind John, Rodney snivelled.
"Yeah, right about there." The Wraith paused and John smiled. The nice thing about the strongbox was that it was a good heavy strongbox, and if the light wasn't better at this angle, then at least they were closer to the pit. He placed one foot against the edge of the strong-box and shoved, letting loose gravel and gravity do the rest. The Wraith screamed as a two-hundred-pound-test-thermally-fused-line noose closed around its leg and it found itself being dragged rapidly towards a long drop and a painful landing. That would teach Rodney to complain about 'Boy-Scout Preparedness.' After all, you never knew when you'd have the chance to catch a really big fish.
The Wraith caught the edge of the pit with its fingers and started to try to pull itself up. John walked up casually and raised his boot. Damn this was going to hurt, but it wasn't going to hurt him. He looked down at the Wraith, wondering how much of what he felt was the lingering after-effects of the tea and how much was just pure, hard-won victory. Still, better this than the alternative. He brought his foot down. "I done told you once, you son-of-a-bitch, I'm the best there's ever been." *
* Charlie Daniels' Band "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"
Title: "The Devil Went Down To Pegasus"
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Genre: Gen, Humour
Word Count: 978 (approx)
Rating: PG (if even)
Spoilers: None
Credits: Thank you thekatebeyond, rinkle, and jennukes for betaing this.
Author's Notes:I was listening to Charlie Daniels Band's "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" and the idea occurred to me of him going somewhere else - Atlantis came to mind. It was only later that certain parallels emerged. It should be noted that I've pulled the last line straight from the song. And no… I don't own any rights to it either, that's why I'm citing my sources, here and now. None of the lines marked with an asterix (albeit a small, pale link-type one) are mine.
Summary"My name's Johnny, and it may be a sin, but I'll take your bet, and you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best there's ever been!" *
The Devil Went Down To Pegasus
Johnny, rosin up your bow
And play that fiddle hard
'Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia
And the devil deals the cards
And if you win you'll get this shiny fiddle made of gold
But if you lose, the devil'll get your soul… *
"Um… hurry." Rodney glanced up to check the door of the extremely small, one-entryway-no-exit room - well, unless you counted the deep, spike-lined pit along the sides of the room as an exit, albeit a terminal one - then down to the electronic lock that John was currently fiddling with. The lock was on a strongbox that contained a Wraith stunner. Which was good, because somewhere back in the labyrinth of corridors behind them was a deranged Wraith. Even more deranged than the usual Wraith, when it came down to it. Rodney was pretty sure this one had a good deal of cat in its DNA, along with the usual humanoid/bug mix. No other species had so much fun playing with its food.
"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. Don't rush me." John bent over the box again. Breaking this code was bound to be complicated - Rodney had given up ten minutes ago, arguing that John was better suited to figure out something mathematical in a hurry - after which he'd bitched and complained while helping John pull it over to this angle, despite John's protests that the light was better. He would have thought Rodney wanted to get out of here, alive.
"This is your fault, you know." Rodney blew into his fists, hyperventilating. "You just had to go tell a Wraith that you were the great John Sheppard, Master of the Universe, Genius at Everything…"
"You were the one who claimed the title of 'Genius at Everything'," John countered. "I just said that there wasn't a challenge I would fail to meet." He continued to study the numbers. "Besides, those girls were hot. And they were offering us a ZPM"
"Yes, yes, and I forgot you were someone incapable of any thinking done above the waistline."
"Right, McKay, because I'm the one that said there wasn't a single challenge their puny little society could create that would come close to taxing the supreme intellect and physical prowess of Rodney McKay and John Sheppard." John frowned. There was something strange here. "I'm surprised you included me."
"Well, after all, there might have been the possibility of heavy lifting or other dangerous tasks. I wanted to be sure I had all the angles covered. That is something a Genius at Everything does, after all."
"Uh-huh…"
"It's not my fault that these people turned out to be Wraith-worshippers and their leader - whom you might just have wanted to find out a little about before trying to negotiate some sort of deal with these people - is a Wraith so psycho that the other Wraith want to hunt him down and kill him, and that his idea of fun is to challenge his prey to a one-on-one - or in this case a two-on-one - challenge of brains and skill, running them through a maze before he pounces on them and devours them."
"No, McKay." It probably wasn't, really. The better answer was that there had been something in the ceremonial tea that incited bravado, and anyway, those women had been really, really hot. They'd made the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders look like a pack of worn-out, middle-aged suburban housewives. Which should have been a warning that the whole thing was a set-up, because women that hot did not - in any known galaxy - fawn that much over a guy like Rodney. Which was something John might have noticed, had six more of them not been fawning over him. Which, he had to admit, made a hell of a lot more sense than them fawning over Rodney.
"And anyway, I'd hardly say it was fair the way he laughed when he said he had no fear of us working together, because a snivelling coward like me needed all the help he could get. I am not a snivelling coward…"
"No, McKay."
"I rarely snivel. And I think we can admit that if I'm not the Rambo-Terminator-Captain America that you are, then those personality traits have still served us well in keeping us alive in numerous situations where we might have otherwise perished."
"Yes, McKay." John started humming under his breath to tune out Rodney's snivelling.
"And I know you're ignoring me, Colonel, but…" Rodney stopped suddenly, his head jerking up and his eyes growing wide.
John didn't bother to turn, instead staring deep into Rodney's wide and rather-reflective-in-this-light eyes. Yup, just what he expected. He yanked the strongbox open and spun around, firing the stunner as soon as he had a target. Nothing happened; then again, he'd expected that, too. After all, what kind of a hunter gave its prey a fair chance?
The Wraith grinned hungrily and stepped forward. Behind John, Rodney snivelled.
"Yeah, right about there." The Wraith paused and John smiled. The nice thing about the strongbox was that it was a good heavy strongbox, and if the light wasn't better at this angle, then at least they were closer to the pit. He placed one foot against the edge of the strong-box and shoved, letting loose gravel and gravity do the rest. The Wraith screamed as a two-hundred-pound-test-thermally-fused-line noose closed around its leg and it found itself being dragged rapidly towards a long drop and a painful landing. That would teach Rodney to complain about 'Boy-Scout Preparedness.' After all, you never knew when you'd have the chance to catch a really big fish.
The Wraith caught the edge of the pit with its fingers and started to try to pull itself up. John walked up casually and raised his boot. Damn this was going to hurt, but it wasn't going to hurt him. He looked down at the Wraith, wondering how much of what he felt was the lingering after-effects of the tea and how much was just pure, hard-won victory. Still, better this than the alternative. He brought his foot down. "I done told you once, you son-of-a-bitch, I'm the best there's ever been." *
* Charlie Daniels' Band "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"