FICLET: [Stargate: Atlantis] Hunter (G)
Author: Soraya
Title: Hunter
Series: Scenes from a courtship
Rating: G
Genre: Pre-Slash
Pairing: Beckett/Dex
Disclaimer: Not mine, Wright and Cooper own Stargate Atlantis etc.
Summary: When Ronon stops running, he doesn't give up hunting
While Ronon doesn't miss running, he does miss the hunt. Then his senses were as sharp as the knife's edge he balanced between hunter and hunted, where he existed on a plane of pure instinct. That he lives and breathes is testament to his cunning and the sheer will to survive; the man it makes him in return is slow to trust and quick to mete out his own brand of justice. Yet Ronon knows that if he is to have any chance of working with the Earthers, he has to cage that part of himself.
So, with a quiet kind of trepidation, Ronon stands himself down. He eases away from that extreme state of battle readiness, which has kept him alive for over seven years, and he steps back into civilisation. It takes several months for him to stop looking over his shoulder; it's even longer before he can let go of that nagging fear of discovery. But eventually, Ronon learns to sleep with both eyes closed, and he starts to think that maybe he can make a home there on Atlantis.
Some things from his past he clings to, like his intense paranoia and his scepticism that the Earthers will find a way to prevail in the face of overwhelming odds. Still, no matter how hard he tries, the one thing he cannot seem to let go is the hunt. The need is in his blood now, caged and quiet for the most part, yet always there to remind him of the life he used to lead. Occasionally, he has to let it out when the need screams so loud that it drowns out all reason. And whenever he does, the sheer rush of it always leaves him on a high, because there's nothing more thrilling than marking a target and testing his skills against it. He loves to track his prey from the shadows, waiting for that perfect moment to strike, and the feeling he gets when that prey finally sees him and knows that it has been outmanoeuvred is beyond compare.
Yes, Ronon loves the hunt. That is one thing he won't let go, even for the Earthers, even though he knows they will never understand, and in time, he finds himself a new type of prey.
At first, it's little more than a diversion, just a quick fix to hold back the need until he can find something more substantial. But soon he's watching his chosen every chance he gets, learning his habits and studying his patterns. What Ronon discovers is that the doctor has needs of his own so vast he's surprised no one else sees them. The man behind the doctor cares for all of them, perhaps a little too much considering the kind of life they lead, and strangely it's that well of compassion, which drives the doctor's needs.
No resource is limitless; Ronon knows this. Yet from what he can see, the Earthers do not seem to recognize this basic principle. They take and they take and they drain the doctor's gentle spirit, leaving the man beneath it brittle at the edges and crumbling from the outside in. Every time the doctor fails to heal one of them, it kills a little of the man inside. Still, every time they come to him for comfort, he reaches within to give some part of himself; and Ronon wonders why so few of them stop to notice that the doctor's eyes are crying out for some compassion of their own.
The hunter in him knows that this is the snare he can use to catch his prey. But Ronon also recognizes that this has become more to him than just a diversion. There's a new need in him now to chase the shadows from those haunted blue eyes and to see them lit with happiness.
So Ronon does for the doctor the little things, which the doctor does for others. No grand gestures, because over time he has learned that the doctor is the sort of man, who treasures the more subtle signs of caring. Like a cup of his favourite tea when he's too busy to fetch one himself, or an offer to carry a heavy case when he's struggling with the weight. And as Ronon stands by the doctor's side, watching and waiting for that perfect moment, he wonders how this particular prey will react when it finally sees him. He has no idea whether Beckett will lie down and bare his throat in submission, or whether the fire will flash undaunted in his eyes.
Ronon hopes it's the latter. Underneath the layers of gentle compassion, he has seen glimpses of a man, who is a little wild yet determined and not afraid to do what needs to be done. He wants to meet that man in person, to see if the level of passion he can sense simmering beneath the surface matches his own. He wants to lie with Beckett and touch him and know everything that he is.
And the longer Ronon hunts him, the more he thinks that may be what they both need.
The End.
Title: Hunter
Series: Scenes from a courtship
Rating: G
Genre: Pre-Slash
Pairing: Beckett/Dex
Disclaimer: Not mine, Wright and Cooper own Stargate Atlantis etc.
Summary: When Ronon stops running, he doesn't give up hunting
While Ronon doesn't miss running, he does miss the hunt. Then his senses were as sharp as the knife's edge he balanced between hunter and hunted, where he existed on a plane of pure instinct. That he lives and breathes is testament to his cunning and the sheer will to survive; the man it makes him in return is slow to trust and quick to mete out his own brand of justice. Yet Ronon knows that if he is to have any chance of working with the Earthers, he has to cage that part of himself.
So, with a quiet kind of trepidation, Ronon stands himself down. He eases away from that extreme state of battle readiness, which has kept him alive for over seven years, and he steps back into civilisation. It takes several months for him to stop looking over his shoulder; it's even longer before he can let go of that nagging fear of discovery. But eventually, Ronon learns to sleep with both eyes closed, and he starts to think that maybe he can make a home there on Atlantis.
Some things from his past he clings to, like his intense paranoia and his scepticism that the Earthers will find a way to prevail in the face of overwhelming odds. Still, no matter how hard he tries, the one thing he cannot seem to let go is the hunt. The need is in his blood now, caged and quiet for the most part, yet always there to remind him of the life he used to lead. Occasionally, he has to let it out when the need screams so loud that it drowns out all reason. And whenever he does, the sheer rush of it always leaves him on a high, because there's nothing more thrilling than marking a target and testing his skills against it. He loves to track his prey from the shadows, waiting for that perfect moment to strike, and the feeling he gets when that prey finally sees him and knows that it has been outmanoeuvred is beyond compare.
Yes, Ronon loves the hunt. That is one thing he won't let go, even for the Earthers, even though he knows they will never understand, and in time, he finds himself a new type of prey.
At first, it's little more than a diversion, just a quick fix to hold back the need until he can find something more substantial. But soon he's watching his chosen every chance he gets, learning his habits and studying his patterns. What Ronon discovers is that the doctor has needs of his own so vast he's surprised no one else sees them. The man behind the doctor cares for all of them, perhaps a little too much considering the kind of life they lead, and strangely it's that well of compassion, which drives the doctor's needs.
No resource is limitless; Ronon knows this. Yet from what he can see, the Earthers do not seem to recognize this basic principle. They take and they take and they drain the doctor's gentle spirit, leaving the man beneath it brittle at the edges and crumbling from the outside in. Every time the doctor fails to heal one of them, it kills a little of the man inside. Still, every time they come to him for comfort, he reaches within to give some part of himself; and Ronon wonders why so few of them stop to notice that the doctor's eyes are crying out for some compassion of their own.
The hunter in him knows that this is the snare he can use to catch his prey. But Ronon also recognizes that this has become more to him than just a diversion. There's a new need in him now to chase the shadows from those haunted blue eyes and to see them lit with happiness.
So Ronon does for the doctor the little things, which the doctor does for others. No grand gestures, because over time he has learned that the doctor is the sort of man, who treasures the more subtle signs of caring. Like a cup of his favourite tea when he's too busy to fetch one himself, or an offer to carry a heavy case when he's struggling with the weight. And as Ronon stands by the doctor's side, watching and waiting for that perfect moment, he wonders how this particular prey will react when it finally sees him. He has no idea whether Beckett will lie down and bare his throat in submission, or whether the fire will flash undaunted in his eyes.
Ronon hopes it's the latter. Underneath the layers of gentle compassion, he has seen glimpses of a man, who is a little wild yet determined and not afraid to do what needs to be done. He wants to meet that man in person, to see if the level of passion he can sense simmering beneath the surface matches his own. He wants to lie with Beckett and touch him and know everything that he is.
And the longer Ronon hunts him, the more he thinks that may be what they both need.
The End.