Independence Day [G]
Independence Day: On the 4th of July, John has something else worth celebrating. Like the fact that Rodney's still alive. ~600 words.
Author's Note: I don't even know what this is. It's been awhile since I've written anything and all last night, I had a vision in my head of Rodney and John kissing on the pier as fireworks light up the sky. I don't think anything about this makes sense though. Happy 4th of July, F-List.
.::.
By the time John reaches the South Pier, the party is already in full swing. He limps in, bones aching and shoulder throbbing from the shot he'd taken earlier that day.
He grins and waves to Lorne and his team of Marines and sidesteps Keller when it looks like she's making a beeline straight for him.
She'd told him to go back to his room and rest and while there's nowhere else he'd rather be than his tiny, child-sized Ancient bed, he has more important things to do. Like find Rodney.
"John." He startles at Teyla's voice and turns, eyes wide. She's staring in a way that looks both fond and exasperated all at the same time. "Should you not be resting?"
"What? And miss the party? Are you kidding?"
The slightest hint of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and she inclines her head just slightly; John thinks she just gets it.
"The last time I saw him, he was over by the balcony with Doctor Zelenka."
John sags in relief. "Thanks."
Teyla leans forward, hands gripping John's forearms lightly as she bows her head and waits. When John presses his forehead to hers, she pulls away, lips lingering close to his ear. "Good luck, John."
He stops off at the refreshment table and grabs two bottles of watered down cat piss that passes for beer in the city and two almost-turkey sandwiches before he hobbles over to the balcony, eyes scanning for broad shoulders.
He spots Rodney almost immediately.
Swallowing hard, he bites back the urge to drop their shit and run, but he steels himself against that feeling and forces his feet to keep going.
Zelenka spots John before Rodney does and John can see him mutter an excuse before he takes off at almost top speed. John watches Rodney huff, and gesture rudely at Zelenka's retreating back.
"Now, that's not very nice," John drawls in the lazy way that he knows drives Rodney crazy.
Rodney jumps at the sound of John's voice and turns, blue eyes wide. "Why are you here?"
John thrusts a bottle of beer and a sandwich into his hands before he slouches against the railing, eyes everywhere but Rodney's face.
"Just uh... just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Rodney scoffs almost angrily and downs half the bottle in one gulp. "I'm not the one who took a bullet today, Colonel," he says.
"It's not like I had a choice, Rodney."
"But you did. You did and you... you were shot!"
Somewhere in the distance, there's the sound of crackling before the sky lights up in a brilliant display of fireworks. John will have to compliment Zelenka on those later, but first...
"It should have been me," Rodney says as John meets his eyes. "You got hurt because of me."
Reaching over, John trails his fingers over the cuts and bruises marring Rodney's cheek. He remembers the feeling of Rodney's body hitting the ground beneath him, face scraping painfully against a rock as a bullet ripped through John's shoulder.
John remembers having exactly three point five seconds to shove Rodney out of the way because if he hadn't, there would have been no more Rodney.
The choice was simple.
"John? Are you even listening to me?" Rodney asks, annoyed.
"No," John says before he leans over and kisses Rodney against a backdrop of color.
"Oh," Rodney mutters against his lips before he finally gets with the program and kisses John back.
Author's Note: I don't even know what this is. It's been awhile since I've written anything and all last night, I had a vision in my head of Rodney and John kissing on the pier as fireworks light up the sky. I don't think anything about this makes sense though. Happy 4th of July, F-List.
.::.
By the time John reaches the South Pier, the party is already in full swing. He limps in, bones aching and shoulder throbbing from the shot he'd taken earlier that day.
He grins and waves to Lorne and his team of Marines and sidesteps Keller when it looks like she's making a beeline straight for him.
She'd told him to go back to his room and rest and while there's nowhere else he'd rather be than his tiny, child-sized Ancient bed, he has more important things to do. Like find Rodney.
"John." He startles at Teyla's voice and turns, eyes wide. She's staring in a way that looks both fond and exasperated all at the same time. "Should you not be resting?"
"What? And miss the party? Are you kidding?"
The slightest hint of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and she inclines her head just slightly; John thinks she just gets it.
"The last time I saw him, he was over by the balcony with Doctor Zelenka."
John sags in relief. "Thanks."
Teyla leans forward, hands gripping John's forearms lightly as she bows her head and waits. When John presses his forehead to hers, she pulls away, lips lingering close to his ear. "Good luck, John."
He stops off at the refreshment table and grabs two bottles of watered down cat piss that passes for beer in the city and two almost-turkey sandwiches before he hobbles over to the balcony, eyes scanning for broad shoulders.
He spots Rodney almost immediately.
Swallowing hard, he bites back the urge to drop their shit and run, but he steels himself against that feeling and forces his feet to keep going.
Zelenka spots John before Rodney does and John can see him mutter an excuse before he takes off at almost top speed. John watches Rodney huff, and gesture rudely at Zelenka's retreating back.
"Now, that's not very nice," John drawls in the lazy way that he knows drives Rodney crazy.
Rodney jumps at the sound of John's voice and turns, blue eyes wide. "Why are you here?"
John thrusts a bottle of beer and a sandwich into his hands before he slouches against the railing, eyes everywhere but Rodney's face.
"Just uh... just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Rodney scoffs almost angrily and downs half the bottle in one gulp. "I'm not the one who took a bullet today, Colonel," he says.
"It's not like I had a choice, Rodney."
"But you did. You did and you... you were shot!"
Somewhere in the distance, there's the sound of crackling before the sky lights up in a brilliant display of fireworks. John will have to compliment Zelenka on those later, but first...
"It should have been me," Rodney says as John meets his eyes. "You got hurt because of me."
Reaching over, John trails his fingers over the cuts and bruises marring Rodney's cheek. He remembers the feeling of Rodney's body hitting the ground beneath him, face scraping painfully against a rock as a bullet ripped through John's shoulder.
John remembers having exactly three point five seconds to shove Rodney out of the way because if he hadn't, there would have been no more Rodney.
The choice was simple.
"John? Are you even listening to me?" Rodney asks, annoyed.
"No," John says before he leans over and kisses Rodney against a backdrop of color.
"Oh," Rodney mutters against his lips before he finally gets with the program and kisses John back.