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chase_acow
I may have gotten a little out of control here, but I just couldn't help myself.
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
SGA
Kingdom Come
His bag was where he’d left it in his room, slumping against the balcony window, devoid of the ZPM and the other gadgets he’d picked up. He snorted and tried not to feel too depressed over the past few days and wondered what they were doing right now on the Hail Mary. Probably something completely inane like having a meal together in the kitchen. He wouldn’t miss Ronon’s table manners at all.
He probably should at least unpack what was left; he could wear the sweater Clah’g had given him to the mess for dinner. Once Shep had sewed up the extra two arm holes, the sweater had fit rather well. Mika had told him that it brought out the best color blue in his eyes.
Spread out on his bed, he was amazed with what he’d managed to collect in his near month away from Atlantis. Along with the sweater, he had a new pair of sleeping pants, a Ronon equivalent of a friendship bracelet, a flask of Sai’s space whiskey, and a collection of wires and connectors that he thought could come in handy with the puddle jumpers. He was just about the throw the bag toward the closet when something else fell out at his jiggling.
They were dog tags. American military style dog tags that were so worn and scratched that he could barely make out the inscription - John Sheppard. His hands closed over the cold metal as he cursed Shep, silently for once, the names ringing through his head as he second-guessed his own decision.
The next several months went by.
Female of his Species
“I think McKay just realized that you’re the female of his species,” Ronon said casually as they watched Rodney beat a hasty retreat, face still red from his aborted attempt at conversation.
John looked down unbelievingly at his smallish breasts and then back over at Ronon ignoring the way the occupants of the next table were straining to hear their every word, “But it’s been two years!”
Tipping back the rest of his pudding cup, Ronon made sure to snag Rodney’s untouched cup before he turned and lifted an eyebrow at John, “For a genius, he’s got some blind spots.”
Shaking his head, John got up to dump his own tray, swinging his hips to avoid one of the scientist barreling down the walkway with his head already buried in a data pad. No one looked twice at him anymore, in fact after the last time that Ronon whumped a Marine fresh off the Daedalus people seldom looked at him once. Rodney had been the one of the few that hadn’t treated him any differently, Teyla and Zelenka being the other notables.
It figured that it would take Rodney so long to start his freak out.
Noun - A Heavy-Set North American Rodent
John rolled his eyes and followed Rodney’s example, taking off his clothing and jumping quickly into the lukewarm water. It felt almost silky against his skin, making him mourn the lack of bathtubs on Atlantis.
“So have you done anything productive?” John asked curling around to flank Rodney from the direction of the waterfall. “Not that I don’t think that your newfound abilities to surf and lay me out will come in handy when the Wraith decide to drop back by.”
“No Colonel, I’ve just been frolicking through the park picking daisies and playing the ‘Loves me Not’ game.”
“And do they love you?”
Turning to answer, Rodney’s eyes widened as John made his move, leaping through the water and shoving Rodney’s head under before he jumped away, cutting a swath toward the opposite end of the pool. John smiled liked he hadn’t smiled since the first time he’d flown solo.
Rodney stood up slowly, water cascading down his shoulders and face. His was plastered down his skull, and he didn’t bother to wipe it back as he stared in John’s general direction. “You realize, this means war, right?” he asked voice low and even, poker face in place.
“But, hey, you didn’t expect that did you?” John smirked.
“It’s on!”
Laughing and splashing like kids a third their ages, Rodney chased John across the pool before finally cornering him underneath the waterfall.
Saved By the Bell fusion
John slid out of the gym as the crowd collectively leaped to their feet to cheer on Bayside’s premiere athlete. He’d stayed just long enough to make sure that Dex had the match wrapped up before he rose as if to go to the bathroom. He made sure to catch the eyes of some of the Spanish club who had bet against Dex and smirk. John would never get tired of taking their money.
Checking once more to make sure that Caldwell was busy at the scorer’s table, John let the door shut behind him and started to jog down the empty hall to the computer lab. The door opened silently for him, and he made sure not to let it click as it shut behind him. The classroom was dark except for one terminal on the far side where the light couldn’t be seen from the hallway. John walked over quietly to his best friend bent busily over the keyboard, and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Holy Einstein’s ghost!” Rodney yelled shoving away from the table and nearly running over John’s foot.
“Quiet Rodney!” John stage whispered catching the chair before it did him serious damage. “Do you want someone to hear us?”
Rodney glared up at him, his face a mismatch of colors from the glowing computer screen, “That’d be easier if some people refrained from sneaking around and scaring the beejezus out of me.”
Kingdom Hearts fusion
“What do you mean you don’t have a princess?” he asked again, wishing that Donald and Goofy would get back from their lunch break. Donald would have a few choice phrases to squawk out, and John was legitimately curious to see who would win a verbal sparring match: Donald or . . .
“I mean this is America, you’d probably have better luck across the pond,” Rodney sniped back, turning his nose up and rubbing a hand along his forehead. “There are no princesses here, of heart or otherwise, so if you could stop wasting my time, that would be great.”
SGA and SG-1
Amazons and strong women...
“We are not on Earth, Colonel Sheppard,” Teal’c pointed out, skating past the idiocy of the question and poking at the logic in the only way he knew how. Maybe Rodney’s bludgeoning would have been better than Teal’s dry wit.
“Semantics,” Rodney interrupted and dismissed Teal’c’s statement with a rotation his wrist as he waved his hand around, almost poking John’s eye out in their cramped quarters. “I blame Mitchell. This kinda thing would never have happened under O’Neill’s watch.”
Cameron rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back with a soft thunk on the wall he was sitting against, “Thanks McKay, because today didn’t suck enough already. I’ll be sure to mention that you’re feeling a little left out the next time they come back.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Rodney yelled sitting up with a flail of his arms, jabbing John in his solar plexus as he struggled up from the cot to look down at Cameron.
“Watch me!” Cameron drawled lifting his arms to thread his fingers behind his head and tilt his head up, smiling at Rodney’s narrowed eyes.
“Come on fellas,” John wheezed, rubbing at the ache in the middle of his chest from Rodney’s flying elbow. “We have to work together if we’re going to get out of this.”
“Who’d ever have thought we’d want out?” Daniel asked no one in particular, a quirk of his that never failed to make John glad that he only had a science geek and not one of the insane cultural geeks on his team. When he used to have a team, anyway. “This is like every red-blooded American male’s fantasy.”
“Hello?” Rodney replied, unable to not rise to the bait. Being locked in a small suite of rooms without so much as a single laptop was swiftly wreaking havoc on his nerves. “Not American, you slathering heathen.”
Ronon shook his head, sending his dreadlocks flying and almost incidentally drawing all the attention away from Rodney trying to pick a fight with everyone else and onto him, “I kinda like it.”
“You would, you overly limber, kink-inclined, sex-bot!”
Raising an eyebrow, John looked over at Rodney, “Sex-bot?”
“Like you didn’t watch Buffy and think it was hot too!”
“Okay, so in this situation, sexual slavery suddenly becomes a bit less of a turn-on,” Cameron interrupted, bringing his hands up to ward off Rodney’s comeback. The two of them had been fighting for the past two weeks since SG-1 had first arrived in Atlantis. John admitted that maybe it was a little bit his fault over the lemon incident, but enough was enough.
SG-1
unnamed, I wanted to get Daniel and Cameron on a motorcycle fic
No, I am not getting on that death trap with you, end-of-sentence.”
Daniel crossed his arms and glared at him, but Cameron had been on SG-1 for over a year now and knew the glare’s bark was worse than its bite. It had taken him a while and he’d
“Come on Daniel, you’ve flown with me in a 302 before,” Cameron cajoled, starting to fidget in his impatience. “This is our only option out of here.”
“Keep your voice down!” Daniel staged whispered loud enough for anyone in a ten-foot radius to hear.
“For the love of…” Cameron muttered, turning his back to Daniel and addressing the bystanders, “Hey! Wanna go to a another galaxy? Ask me how! We’ve been abducted by aliens at least six times, wanna here the story? How ‘bout you ma’am?”
The woman in question pulled her bag closer to her body and stepped in a wide circle around Cameron, eyeing him nervously while rather obviously not making direct eye contact. Cameron gave her his winningest smile that never failed to bring his girlfriend’s mothers around.
The woman sped up and everyone else ignored the scene that he was making.
“Oh, that’s mature,” Daniel said crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
“Well one of us has to be since you’re being such a baby about the whole thing,” Cameron shot back.
Daniel stopped and blew a stream of air up at his bangs that stood straight out from his forehead.
Don't I Know You?
The deserted road ambled down and out of Daniel’s vision, a dusty track still rutted from the last time it had rained. Shade trees littered the side of the road, unfortunately, contrary to the end, his beaten up, hand-me-down car had picked the one stretch of dirt devoid of any relief from the sun. He’d been driving non stop for the last four hours, ran out of coffee three hours ago, lost his last nerve two hours ago, and only recently gave up all hope of survival.
Squinting up at the early afternoon sun, Daniel once again cursed the vague idea that had brought him down to the American south. Texas was no place for an archeologist, or a linguist, for that matter, but he did have an interesting theory about redneck-isms. He should have already been in London studying and preparing for his venture to Egypt. Instead, here he sat in the middle of Deliverance country with no map, no gas, and no way out.
Lost in his thoughts, traveling the well worn paths among the pyramids and sphinxes that he’d created out of cause and effect since the day his parents died, he didn’t notice the sound of a vehicle approaching. It was right behind him before he jerked up and jumped off the road, coughing in the stirred up clouded of dust and grit.
Marriage of Convenience Take One
The cafeteria was having meatloaf tonight, Daniel was nearly sure, so he wasn’t in so much of a hurry to get back to the SGC. Though it would be nice to get out of the hut, it was getting a bit stuffy. Pants, too, having his pants back would be nice.
“You will have to follow the rules while you are here,” the man had finally gestured toward the guards to lower their staffs. “He cannot wear anything on his feet and he must have your mark around his neck. This is for his protection, as well as for all our consorts.”
“Okay, all right,” Cameron nodded, sliding past the man and his guards while trying not to turn his back to any of them. He finally reached Daniel and reached out to put a hand on the small of his back, pulling Daniel into him. “So, about the pants?”
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
SGA
Kingdom Come
His bag was where he’d left it in his room, slumping against the balcony window, devoid of the ZPM and the other gadgets he’d picked up. He snorted and tried not to feel too depressed over the past few days and wondered what they were doing right now on the Hail Mary. Probably something completely inane like having a meal together in the kitchen. He wouldn’t miss Ronon’s table manners at all.
He probably should at least unpack what was left; he could wear the sweater Clah’g had given him to the mess for dinner. Once Shep had sewed up the extra two arm holes, the sweater had fit rather well. Mika had told him that it brought out the best color blue in his eyes.
Spread out on his bed, he was amazed with what he’d managed to collect in his near month away from Atlantis. Along with the sweater, he had a new pair of sleeping pants, a Ronon equivalent of a friendship bracelet, a flask of Sai’s space whiskey, and a collection of wires and connectors that he thought could come in handy with the puddle jumpers. He was just about the throw the bag toward the closet when something else fell out at his jiggling.
They were dog tags. American military style dog tags that were so worn and scratched that he could barely make out the inscription - John Sheppard. His hands closed over the cold metal as he cursed Shep, silently for once, the names ringing through his head as he second-guessed his own decision.
The next several months went by.
Female of his Species
“I think McKay just realized that you’re the female of his species,” Ronon said casually as they watched Rodney beat a hasty retreat, face still red from his aborted attempt at conversation.
John looked down unbelievingly at his smallish breasts and then back over at Ronon ignoring the way the occupants of the next table were straining to hear their every word, “But it’s been two years!”
Tipping back the rest of his pudding cup, Ronon made sure to snag Rodney’s untouched cup before he turned and lifted an eyebrow at John, “For a genius, he’s got some blind spots.”
Shaking his head, John got up to dump his own tray, swinging his hips to avoid one of the scientist barreling down the walkway with his head already buried in a data pad. No one looked twice at him anymore, in fact after the last time that Ronon whumped a Marine fresh off the Daedalus people seldom looked at him once. Rodney had been the one of the few that hadn’t treated him any differently, Teyla and Zelenka being the other notables.
It figured that it would take Rodney so long to start his freak out.
Noun - A Heavy-Set North American Rodent
John rolled his eyes and followed Rodney’s example, taking off his clothing and jumping quickly into the lukewarm water. It felt almost silky against his skin, making him mourn the lack of bathtubs on Atlantis.
“So have you done anything productive?” John asked curling around to flank Rodney from the direction of the waterfall. “Not that I don’t think that your newfound abilities to surf and lay me out will come in handy when the Wraith decide to drop back by.”
“No Colonel, I’ve just been frolicking through the park picking daisies and playing the ‘Loves me Not’ game.”
“And do they love you?”
Turning to answer, Rodney’s eyes widened as John made his move, leaping through the water and shoving Rodney’s head under before he jumped away, cutting a swath toward the opposite end of the pool. John smiled liked he hadn’t smiled since the first time he’d flown solo.
Rodney stood up slowly, water cascading down his shoulders and face. His was plastered down his skull, and he didn’t bother to wipe it back as he stared in John’s general direction. “You realize, this means war, right?” he asked voice low and even, poker face in place.
“But, hey, you didn’t expect that did you?” John smirked.
“It’s on!”
Laughing and splashing like kids a third their ages, Rodney chased John across the pool before finally cornering him underneath the waterfall.
Saved By the Bell fusion
John slid out of the gym as the crowd collectively leaped to their feet to cheer on Bayside’s premiere athlete. He’d stayed just long enough to make sure that Dex had the match wrapped up before he rose as if to go to the bathroom. He made sure to catch the eyes of some of the Spanish club who had bet against Dex and smirk. John would never get tired of taking their money.
Checking once more to make sure that Caldwell was busy at the scorer’s table, John let the door shut behind him and started to jog down the empty hall to the computer lab. The door opened silently for him, and he made sure not to let it click as it shut behind him. The classroom was dark except for one terminal on the far side where the light couldn’t be seen from the hallway. John walked over quietly to his best friend bent busily over the keyboard, and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Holy Einstein’s ghost!” Rodney yelled shoving away from the table and nearly running over John’s foot.
“Quiet Rodney!” John stage whispered catching the chair before it did him serious damage. “Do you want someone to hear us?”
Rodney glared up at him, his face a mismatch of colors from the glowing computer screen, “That’d be easier if some people refrained from sneaking around and scaring the beejezus out of me.”
Kingdom Hearts fusion
“What do you mean you don’t have a princess?” he asked again, wishing that Donald and Goofy would get back from their lunch break. Donald would have a few choice phrases to squawk out, and John was legitimately curious to see who would win a verbal sparring match: Donald or . . .
“I mean this is America, you’d probably have better luck across the pond,” Rodney sniped back, turning his nose up and rubbing a hand along his forehead. “There are no princesses here, of heart or otherwise, so if you could stop wasting my time, that would be great.”
SGA and SG-1
Amazons and strong women...
“We are not on Earth, Colonel Sheppard,” Teal’c pointed out, skating past the idiocy of the question and poking at the logic in the only way he knew how. Maybe Rodney’s bludgeoning would have been better than Teal’s dry wit.
“Semantics,” Rodney interrupted and dismissed Teal’c’s statement with a rotation his wrist as he waved his hand around, almost poking John’s eye out in their cramped quarters. “I blame Mitchell. This kinda thing would never have happened under O’Neill’s watch.”
Cameron rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back with a soft thunk on the wall he was sitting against, “Thanks McKay, because today didn’t suck enough already. I’ll be sure to mention that you’re feeling a little left out the next time they come back.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Rodney yelled sitting up with a flail of his arms, jabbing John in his solar plexus as he struggled up from the cot to look down at Cameron.
“Watch me!” Cameron drawled lifting his arms to thread his fingers behind his head and tilt his head up, smiling at Rodney’s narrowed eyes.
“Come on fellas,” John wheezed, rubbing at the ache in the middle of his chest from Rodney’s flying elbow. “We have to work together if we’re going to get out of this.”
“Who’d ever have thought we’d want out?” Daniel asked no one in particular, a quirk of his that never failed to make John glad that he only had a science geek and not one of the insane cultural geeks on his team. When he used to have a team, anyway. “This is like every red-blooded American male’s fantasy.”
“Hello?” Rodney replied, unable to not rise to the bait. Being locked in a small suite of rooms without so much as a single laptop was swiftly wreaking havoc on his nerves. “Not American, you slathering heathen.”
Ronon shook his head, sending his dreadlocks flying and almost incidentally drawing all the attention away from Rodney trying to pick a fight with everyone else and onto him, “I kinda like it.”
“You would, you overly limber, kink-inclined, sex-bot!”
Raising an eyebrow, John looked over at Rodney, “Sex-bot?”
“Like you didn’t watch Buffy and think it was hot too!”
“Okay, so in this situation, sexual slavery suddenly becomes a bit less of a turn-on,” Cameron interrupted, bringing his hands up to ward off Rodney’s comeback. The two of them had been fighting for the past two weeks since SG-1 had first arrived in Atlantis. John admitted that maybe it was a little bit his fault over the lemon incident, but enough was enough.
SG-1
unnamed, I wanted to get Daniel and Cameron on a motorcycle fic
No, I am not getting on that death trap with you, end-of-sentence.”
Daniel crossed his arms and glared at him, but Cameron had been on SG-1 for over a year now and knew the glare’s bark was worse than its bite. It had taken him a while and he’d
“Come on Daniel, you’ve flown with me in a 302 before,” Cameron cajoled, starting to fidget in his impatience. “This is our only option out of here.”
“Keep your voice down!” Daniel staged whispered loud enough for anyone in a ten-foot radius to hear.
“For the love of…” Cameron muttered, turning his back to Daniel and addressing the bystanders, “Hey! Wanna go to a another galaxy? Ask me how! We’ve been abducted by aliens at least six times, wanna here the story? How ‘bout you ma’am?”
The woman in question pulled her bag closer to her body and stepped in a wide circle around Cameron, eyeing him nervously while rather obviously not making direct eye contact. Cameron gave her his winningest smile that never failed to bring his girlfriend’s mothers around.
The woman sped up and everyone else ignored the scene that he was making.
“Oh, that’s mature,” Daniel said crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
“Well one of us has to be since you’re being such a baby about the whole thing,” Cameron shot back.
Daniel stopped and blew a stream of air up at his bangs that stood straight out from his forehead.
Don't I Know You?
The deserted road ambled down and out of Daniel’s vision, a dusty track still rutted from the last time it had rained. Shade trees littered the side of the road, unfortunately, contrary to the end, his beaten up, hand-me-down car had picked the one stretch of dirt devoid of any relief from the sun. He’d been driving non stop for the last four hours, ran out of coffee three hours ago, lost his last nerve two hours ago, and only recently gave up all hope of survival.
Squinting up at the early afternoon sun, Daniel once again cursed the vague idea that had brought him down to the American south. Texas was no place for an archeologist, or a linguist, for that matter, but he did have an interesting theory about redneck-isms. He should have already been in London studying and preparing for his venture to Egypt. Instead, here he sat in the middle of Deliverance country with no map, no gas, and no way out.
Lost in his thoughts, traveling the well worn paths among the pyramids and sphinxes that he’d created out of cause and effect since the day his parents died, he didn’t notice the sound of a vehicle approaching. It was right behind him before he jerked up and jumped off the road, coughing in the stirred up clouded of dust and grit.
Marriage of Convenience Take One
The cafeteria was having meatloaf tonight, Daniel was nearly sure, so he wasn’t in so much of a hurry to get back to the SGC. Though it would be nice to get out of the hut, it was getting a bit stuffy. Pants, too, having his pants back would be nice.
“You will have to follow the rules while you are here,” the man had finally gestured toward the guards to lower their staffs. “He cannot wear anything on his feet and he must have your mark around his neck. This is for his protection, as well as for all our consorts.”
“Okay, all right,” Cameron nodded, sliding past the man and his guards while trying not to turn his back to any of them. He finally reached Daniel and reached out to put a hand on the small of his back, pulling Daniel into him. “So, about the pants?”
