Fic: Exceptions
Sep. 21st, 2008 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iliaTitle: Exceptions
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladyyueh
Disclaimer: Not my property and no infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: SG-1/SGA
Timeline: Set after The Return.
Word Count: 2100
Prompt: John/Rodney/Jack/Daniel, hockey
Notes: Unfortunately, not beta-ed because I an incorrigible procrastinator. I blame the muse for this and give thanks to Wikipedia andgoldy_dollar who answered some of my hockey questions.
--------
It was no secret that General Jack O’Neill was not a fan of scientists, at least none that weren’t Samantha Carter or Daniel Jackson. It was considered common knowledge that he hadn’t been overly fond of even them at the beginning. Most conjectured that the duo had become the exception to the rule only because of the fact that they were team and that overruled everything and anything else. Teal’c, after all, was a Jaffa, many observers noted. What was the stigma of being an egghead in comparison to that? It seemed to many, and was known by that privileged and select group, that the bonds forged between members of off world teams transcended such trivial labels. (Translation: They bled, cried, fought, died, bickered and did lots of embarrassing and heroic things together; they were family, even the dorky ones. [Especially the dorky ones; They saved military asses, said dorky ones argued. To which military asses answered--well, you get the idea.])
Everyone knew that General O’Neill was not fond of scientists. Thus, everyone conjectured that General O’Neill must despise Dr. Rodney McKay; the man who’d written Teal’c off as an acceptable loss, arrogantly insulted Col. Carter, and in one fell swoop, called Daniel Jackson ‘a miserable excuse for an actual scientist’. It was ironic that the General was the only member of SG-1 that he hadn’t offended in some way. (Hell, McKay had actually saved the man’s life!)
John Sheppard thought he knew about the General’s aversion to scientists and especially to McKay because of the fact that the marines gossiped about the man, and regarded him with respect and no little awe despite the fact that he was Air Force. Sheppard knew the validity of gossip, it amounted to nothing. Until he’d heard McKay make a comment about the novelty of having a military commander that actually listened to scientists, if only selectively. He’d grown warm with pleasure and pride but refuted the idea that he’d ever done anything but pretend to pay attention. Sheppard hadn’t been particularly fond of the man who’d manipulated him into the program (and no he did not resemble the man in any way despite whatever list McKay might’ve made about ATA genes, sarcasm, irreverence, and survival instincts in certain Air Force officers), and he’d liked him less after McKay’s comment. He’d absolutely loathed the man when he’d been kicked out ofhisthe city and O’Neill got the privilege of playing ambassador on Atlantis. (And no, his anger was not irrational or displaced.)
During their banishment on Earth it had felt like it was his people against everyone else. The exiled expedition of Atlantis against the arrogance and condescension of the SGC and IOA combined. He’d thought they were united against a common enemy and he’d felt vindicated when their ragtag bunch of rebels had retaken Atlantis in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds.
It was why he returned to Earth with a proverbial skip in his step to recall his people home. O’Neill had assured him of his continued status as military commander in his usual eccentric manner, meaning that he was no longer the pariah in charge of the SG-N00bs. They were due back within the week and he already itched to return home to Atlantis. Especially when considering General Landry’s arctic glare. He was not looking forward to the upcoming briefing, at all.
“Any plans for tomorrow?” John asked idly.
Rodney shrugged and waved his hand negligently. “I’m busy, as always, colonel.”
John’s expression showed what he thought about that. “You’re always busy. Lighten up, McKay. This is your reprieve before we return to the life sucking vampires, the Borg wannabes with parental issues, and all the hostile natives out to shoot us with primitive yet highly effective weaponry. Have some fun, will ya?”
Rodney glared this time. “I have work to do,” he enunciated slowly, as if stretching out the vowels would make the words’ meanings penetrate John’s skull more successfully.
John ignored the bait. “Suit yourself,” he said without concern.
Rodney frowned. “Oh, please. As if you could actually do anything. We’re only here for a week and we have to put everything in order and get everyone here to be ferried to Atlantis. You probably won’t be able to leave the mountain much less the state. No beach bunnies for you, colonel,” he taunted with a smirk.
“Well, I guess I’ll just be getting to my big, thick, juicy steak dinner. Later, McKay,” he called back to a spluttering Rodney as he headed to the elevator that would take him topside.
--------
“Col Sheppard!”
John stopped at the shout. “Doctor Jackson,” he acknowledged politely. He’d spent as little time with the man as possible. Rodney had warned him that Jackson would pump him for information about Atlantis if he let him and having no desire to share anything about the city with someone who hadn’t been there, hadn’t bled or fought for her, wasn’t something he wanted to do. It helped that they had on conflicting mission schedules.
“Where are you heading?” Daniel questioned with courteous interest.
“One of the scientists told me that McKay commandeered a lab to work from,” he answered with his usual show of insouciance.
“He’s not here. He didn‘t come into work today,” Daniel said with some confusion. “He said he had plans. I’d assumed the two of you had something planned. He was muttering about beach bunnies yesterday,” he added at John’s look.
John pursed his lips in annoyance before turning a charming smile on to face Daniel’s skepticism. “The bastard said he’d be working all day. I was going to drag him shopping for essentials. Elizabeth gave me a list,” he clarified.
Jackson’s expression said that he clearly wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t refute it either. “He seemed very excited,” Daniel informed him in a bland tone.
John fought the urge to glare. Clearly, the SGC cultivated aggravating people that couldn’t mind their own goddamned business.
And what the hell was Rodney doing that had him excited? And why hadn’t he invited John? Things that got McKay keyed up were usually worth the price of admission.
“I guess I’ll just--” he paused at the look of indulgence on Jackson’s face. “Paperwork,” he blurted before turning and striding away.
--------
He lasted an hour before curiosity got the best of him and he dialed Rodney’s number from a secure and anonymous SGC line.
“Didn’t I tell you monkeys I wouldn’t be coming in today?” Rodney’s angry bluster was clearly communicated on the line as was the sound of blaring horns and cheering that drowned out his rant for a moment before Rodney’s own shouting overpowered it. “Holy shit! Did you see that! Ha!”
The line went dead.
Clearly, Rodney wasn’t at some science conference as he’d thought. Instead, he was somewhere with cheering people and with someone else. Someone who wasn’t his best friend.
What the hell?
--------
John didn’t sulk for the rest of the day because Rodney hadn’t called him. Obviously, he had something better to do. (And John wasn’t bitter. Or in denial. He wasn't.)
He poked listlessly at his lumpy out-of-the-box, mashed potatoes. He wasn’t going to go looking for Rodney. It wasn't like he wanted to check whether Rodney had other plans for today too.
“Can I join you for lunch, colonel?”
John looked up from his mashed potato tower to find a pleasantly smiling Daniel Jackson waiting for his answer.
“Sure.” What else could he say? And what the hell, if Rodney could have friends that he did fun things with, things he hadn’t invited John to participate in, then John could make nice with a man whose guts Rodney hated.
“I suppose you must be very excited to be returning to Atlantis,” Jackson began with an admirable lack of envy.
“Yeah, I--”
“Colonel?” John did not tense at the sound of Rodney’s voice and anyone who said otherwise was a vicious liar.
“McKay,” he drawled withoutmuch hostility. Whatever he was going to say went out the window when he caught sight of Rodney’s right hand. Rodney’s bandaged, right hand.
“What the hell happened, McKay!” John barked.
Rodney blinked, momentarily confused until he followed John’s gaze to his injured hand. “Oh. This? Nothing. I just--uh…”
“He threw a bad punch at this particularly offensive guy, laid ‘em out. Shouldn’t you be teaching your geeks better, Sheppard?” Jack O’Neill spoke as he took the empty seat next to Daniel.
“I thought you were stuck in meetings, how do you know about what happened to Rodney?” Daniel questioned his friend intently, as suspicion made his eyebrows furrow.
“McKay was there. Guy insulted his Canadian heritage and then BAM! Surprised the hell outta me,” O'Neill said without any hint of a lie.
“You were with the General?” John asked McKay. Instead of his usual long winded answer, Rodney simply nodded, which was an indicator of lying. Rodney knew he couldn’t lie for shit and usually tried to forgo talking and giving everything away.
“Huh. I didn’t know government meetings had cheering crowds and scoreboards,” John said without fanfare.
O'Neill glared at Rodney. “What part of secret was so difficult for you to understand, McKay?”
“I understand the concept perfectly well, General. However Sheppard found out it didn’t come from me. It was probably one of your gossipy lieutenants. Didn’t you see them chittering like canaries on the tarmac? They probably spread the news that a General used his clout to indulge his nostalgia of the “good old days”. They were probably surprised that you didn’t crash and burn at the first barrel roll!” Rodney sneered.
“They were probably hoping I did, taking you with me!” O'Neill shot back with a sardonic smile.
“And it was not a bad punch! That guy had steel plating in his jaw, or something!” Rodney argued.
John was getting a headache, and from the looks of it Daniel was, too. He wondered whether he was sporting the same dumbfounded look of confusion as Daniel, he hoped not. Then again, it was understandable. Nothing made sense in a universe where Jack O’Neill and Rodney McKay bantered like children and admitted to spending time together.
“You guys went flying?” Daniel spoke up. “Together?”
O'Neill shrugged, unconcerned. “I had to threaten McKay not to barf or I’d eject him.”
John hoped his jealousy wasn’t showing.
“At least he’s not as reckless as you, Sheppard,” Rodney commented while chewing his pasta.
“Hey! I’m plenty reckless! If we hadn’t had a schedule I would’ve made loads of reckless moves,” O'Neill argued with wounded pride.
“Excuses, excuses,” Rodney teased.
John wasn’t feeling any better. From the looks of it, Daniel wasn’t either.
“Where did you go?” Daniel gave them both hard looks that dissuaded them from further bickering.
Rodney grinned, wide and bright, like a child. “Hockey,” he sing-songed with glee. O'Neill nodded, his own smile was muted but still conveyed his pleasure.
“Hockey?!” John and Daniel chorused.
“You guys played hooky to watch hockey!” John hissed with disbelief. ‘And you didn’t invite me?’ He smothered the question ruthlessly.
O'Neill grinned irreverently. “Well, McKay boasted he could get the best seats with a single phone call and I felt it was my duty to verify."
“And Rodney could only get two seats?” Daniel asked with a hint of feigned hurt.
O'Neill shook his head. “You hate hockey, Daniel. You’ve never gone any other time I’ve invited you.”
“Sheppard won’t talk anything that isn’t American football,” Rodney commiserated.
“You guys bonded over hockey,” John said with no little disbelief.
Both men grimaced.
“I wouldn’t say bonded,” O'Neill refuted.
“Definitely not,” Rodney agreed. “He’s only American, after all. He doesn’t even have a team.”
“I do so!” O'Neill disagreed.
Rodney snorted. “Following the Minnesota Wild, the Colorado Avalanche, and the Chicago Blackhawks does not constitute having a team. That’s polygamy in the hockey world. ”
O'Neill pointed in a threatening manner. “Not another word about the Oilers, McKay.”
Unconcerned, Rodney grinned. “Still sore because the Wild didn’t even qualify?”
“I hope you’re annihilated by the Ducks,” O'Neill growled.
“We’re not the Avalanche,” McKay taunted.
O'Neill glared.
“Shutting up!” McKay yelped.
John couldn’t help but stare. Had he really just seen that? (And why did he feel like he should be protesting that Rodney was his scientist and that it wasn't fair that O'Neill was playing with him when he already had two of his own?)
Daniel, who looked as dazed as he felt, stood and walked away from the insanity and General O’Neill followed. “Next season, McKay!” O’Neill called out.
“In your dreams!” Rodney crowed.
Bewildered, slightly jealous, and maybe a little bit hurt, John wondered whether hockey was another of O’Neill’s exceptions to the rule.
Rodney poked him. “Stop pouting. You can come next time.”
Author:
ladyyuehDisclaimer: Not my property and no infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: SG-1/SGA
Timeline: Set after The Return.
Word Count: 2100
Prompt: John/Rodney/Jack/Daniel, hockey
Notes: Unfortunately, not beta-ed because I an incorrigible procrastinator. I blame the muse for this and give thanks to Wikipedia and
goldy_dollar who answered some of my hockey questions.--------
It was no secret that General Jack O’Neill was not a fan of scientists, at least none that weren’t Samantha Carter or Daniel Jackson. It was considered common knowledge that he hadn’t been overly fond of even them at the beginning. Most conjectured that the duo had become the exception to the rule only because of the fact that they were team and that overruled everything and anything else. Teal’c, after all, was a Jaffa, many observers noted. What was the stigma of being an egghead in comparison to that? It seemed to many, and was known by that privileged and select group, that the bonds forged between members of off world teams transcended such trivial labels. (Translation: They bled, cried, fought, died, bickered and did lots of embarrassing and heroic things together; they were family, even the dorky ones. [Especially the dorky ones; They saved military asses, said dorky ones argued. To which military asses answered--well, you get the idea.])
Everyone knew that General O’Neill was not fond of scientists. Thus, everyone conjectured that General O’Neill must despise Dr. Rodney McKay; the man who’d written Teal’c off as an acceptable loss, arrogantly insulted Col. Carter, and in one fell swoop, called Daniel Jackson ‘a miserable excuse for an actual scientist’. It was ironic that the General was the only member of SG-1 that he hadn’t offended in some way. (Hell, McKay had actually saved the man’s life!)
John Sheppard thought he knew about the General’s aversion to scientists and especially to McKay because of the fact that the marines gossiped about the man, and regarded him with respect and no little awe despite the fact that he was Air Force. Sheppard knew the validity of gossip, it amounted to nothing. Until he’d heard McKay make a comment about the novelty of having a military commander that actually listened to scientists, if only selectively. He’d grown warm with pleasure and pride but refuted the idea that he’d ever done anything but pretend to pay attention. Sheppard hadn’t been particularly fond of the man who’d manipulated him into the program (and no he did not resemble the man in any way despite whatever list McKay might’ve made about ATA genes, sarcasm, irreverence, and survival instincts in certain Air Force officers), and he’d liked him less after McKay’s comment. He’d absolutely loathed the man when he’d been kicked out of
During their banishment on Earth it had felt like it was his people against everyone else. The exiled expedition of Atlantis against the arrogance and condescension of the SGC and IOA combined. He’d thought they were united against a common enemy and he’d felt vindicated when their ragtag bunch of rebels had retaken Atlantis in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds.
It was why he returned to Earth with a proverbial skip in his step to recall his people home. O’Neill had assured him of his continued status as military commander in his usual eccentric manner, meaning that he was no longer the pariah in charge of the SG-N00bs. They were due back within the week and he already itched to return home to Atlantis. Especially when considering General Landry’s arctic glare. He was not looking forward to the upcoming briefing, at all.
“Any plans for tomorrow?” John asked idly.
Rodney shrugged and waved his hand negligently. “I’m busy, as always, colonel.”
John’s expression showed what he thought about that. “You’re always busy. Lighten up, McKay. This is your reprieve before we return to the life sucking vampires, the Borg wannabes with parental issues, and all the hostile natives out to shoot us with primitive yet highly effective weaponry. Have some fun, will ya?”
Rodney glared this time. “I have work to do,” he enunciated slowly, as if stretching out the vowels would make the words’ meanings penetrate John’s skull more successfully.
John ignored the bait. “Suit yourself,” he said without concern.
Rodney frowned. “Oh, please. As if you could actually do anything. We’re only here for a week and we have to put everything in order and get everyone here to be ferried to Atlantis. You probably won’t be able to leave the mountain much less the state. No beach bunnies for you, colonel,” he taunted with a smirk.
“Well, I guess I’ll just be getting to my big, thick, juicy steak dinner. Later, McKay,” he called back to a spluttering Rodney as he headed to the elevator that would take him topside.
--------
“Col Sheppard!”
John stopped at the shout. “Doctor Jackson,” he acknowledged politely. He’d spent as little time with the man as possible. Rodney had warned him that Jackson would pump him for information about Atlantis if he let him and having no desire to share anything about the city with someone who hadn’t been there, hadn’t bled or fought for her, wasn’t something he wanted to do. It helped that they had on conflicting mission schedules.
“Where are you heading?” Daniel questioned with courteous interest.
“One of the scientists told me that McKay commandeered a lab to work from,” he answered with his usual show of insouciance.
“He’s not here. He didn‘t come into work today,” Daniel said with some confusion. “He said he had plans. I’d assumed the two of you had something planned. He was muttering about beach bunnies yesterday,” he added at John’s look.
John pursed his lips in annoyance before turning a charming smile on to face Daniel’s skepticism. “The bastard said he’d be working all day. I was going to drag him shopping for essentials. Elizabeth gave me a list,” he clarified.
Jackson’s expression said that he clearly wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t refute it either. “He seemed very excited,” Daniel informed him in a bland tone.
John fought the urge to glare. Clearly, the SGC cultivated aggravating people that couldn’t mind their own goddamned business.
And what the hell was Rodney doing that had him excited? And why hadn’t he invited John? Things that got McKay keyed up were usually worth the price of admission.
“I guess I’ll just--” he paused at the look of indulgence on Jackson’s face. “Paperwork,” he blurted before turning and striding away.
--------
He lasted an hour before curiosity got the best of him and he dialed Rodney’s number from a secure and anonymous SGC line.
“Didn’t I tell you monkeys I wouldn’t be coming in today?” Rodney’s angry bluster was clearly communicated on the line as was the sound of blaring horns and cheering that drowned out his rant for a moment before Rodney’s own shouting overpowered it. “Holy shit! Did you see that! Ha!”
The line went dead.
Clearly, Rodney wasn’t at some science conference as he’d thought. Instead, he was somewhere with cheering people and with someone else. Someone who wasn’t his best friend.
What the hell?
--------
John didn’t sulk for the rest of the day because Rodney hadn’t called him. Obviously, he had something better to do. (And John wasn’t bitter. Or in denial. He wasn't.)
He poked listlessly at his lumpy out-of-the-box, mashed potatoes. He wasn’t going to go looking for Rodney. It wasn't like he wanted to check whether Rodney had other plans for today too.
“Can I join you for lunch, colonel?”
John looked up from his mashed potato tower to find a pleasantly smiling Daniel Jackson waiting for his answer.
“Sure.” What else could he say? And what the hell, if Rodney could have friends that he did fun things with, things he hadn’t invited John to participate in, then John could make nice with a man whose guts Rodney hated.
“I suppose you must be very excited to be returning to Atlantis,” Jackson began with an admirable lack of envy.
“Yeah, I--”
“Colonel?” John did not tense at the sound of Rodney’s voice and anyone who said otherwise was a vicious liar.
“McKay,” he drawled without
“What the hell happened, McKay!” John barked.
Rodney blinked, momentarily confused until he followed John’s gaze to his injured hand. “Oh. This? Nothing. I just--uh…”
“He threw a bad punch at this particularly offensive guy, laid ‘em out. Shouldn’t you be teaching your geeks better, Sheppard?” Jack O’Neill spoke as he took the empty seat next to Daniel.
“I thought you were stuck in meetings, how do you know about what happened to Rodney?” Daniel questioned his friend intently, as suspicion made his eyebrows furrow.
“McKay was there. Guy insulted his Canadian heritage and then BAM! Surprised the hell outta me,” O'Neill said without any hint of a lie.
“You were with the General?” John asked McKay. Instead of his usual long winded answer, Rodney simply nodded, which was an indicator of lying. Rodney knew he couldn’t lie for shit and usually tried to forgo talking and giving everything away.
“Huh. I didn’t know government meetings had cheering crowds and scoreboards,” John said without fanfare.
O'Neill glared at Rodney. “What part of secret was so difficult for you to understand, McKay?”
“I understand the concept perfectly well, General. However Sheppard found out it didn’t come from me. It was probably one of your gossipy lieutenants. Didn’t you see them chittering like canaries on the tarmac? They probably spread the news that a General used his clout to indulge his nostalgia of the “good old days”. They were probably surprised that you didn’t crash and burn at the first barrel roll!” Rodney sneered.
“They were probably hoping I did, taking you with me!” O'Neill shot back with a sardonic smile.
“And it was not a bad punch! That guy had steel plating in his jaw, or something!” Rodney argued.
John was getting a headache, and from the looks of it Daniel was, too. He wondered whether he was sporting the same dumbfounded look of confusion as Daniel, he hoped not. Then again, it was understandable. Nothing made sense in a universe where Jack O’Neill and Rodney McKay bantered like children and admitted to spending time together.
“You guys went flying?” Daniel spoke up. “Together?”
O'Neill shrugged, unconcerned. “I had to threaten McKay not to barf or I’d eject him.”
John hoped his jealousy wasn’t showing.
“At least he’s not as reckless as you, Sheppard,” Rodney commented while chewing his pasta.
“Hey! I’m plenty reckless! If we hadn’t had a schedule I would’ve made loads of reckless moves,” O'Neill argued with wounded pride.
“Excuses, excuses,” Rodney teased.
John wasn’t feeling any better. From the looks of it, Daniel wasn’t either.
“Where did you go?” Daniel gave them both hard looks that dissuaded them from further bickering.
Rodney grinned, wide and bright, like a child. “Hockey,” he sing-songed with glee. O'Neill nodded, his own smile was muted but still conveyed his pleasure.
“Hockey?!” John and Daniel chorused.
“You guys played hooky to watch hockey!” John hissed with disbelief. ‘And you didn’t invite me?’ He smothered the question ruthlessly.
O'Neill grinned irreverently. “Well, McKay boasted he could get the best seats with a single phone call and I felt it was my duty to verify."
“And Rodney could only get two seats?” Daniel asked with a hint of feigned hurt.
O'Neill shook his head. “You hate hockey, Daniel. You’ve never gone any other time I’ve invited you.”
“Sheppard won’t talk anything that isn’t American football,” Rodney commiserated.
“You guys bonded over hockey,” John said with no little disbelief.
Both men grimaced.
“I wouldn’t say bonded,” O'Neill refuted.
“Definitely not,” Rodney agreed. “He’s only American, after all. He doesn’t even have a team.”
“I do so!” O'Neill disagreed.
Rodney snorted. “Following the Minnesota Wild, the Colorado Avalanche, and the Chicago Blackhawks does not constitute having a team. That’s polygamy in the hockey world. ”
O'Neill pointed in a threatening manner. “Not another word about the Oilers, McKay.”
Unconcerned, Rodney grinned. “Still sore because the Wild didn’t even qualify?”
“I hope you’re annihilated by the Ducks,” O'Neill growled.
“We’re not the Avalanche,” McKay taunted.
O'Neill glared.
“Shutting up!” McKay yelped.
John couldn’t help but stare. Had he really just seen that? (And why did he feel like he should be protesting that Rodney was his scientist and that it wasn't fair that O'Neill was playing with him when he already had two of his own?)
Daniel, who looked as dazed as he felt, stood and walked away from the insanity and General O’Neill followed. “Next season, McKay!” O’Neill called out.
“In your dreams!” Rodney crowed.
Bewildered, slightly jealous, and maybe a little bit hurt, John wondered whether hockey was another of O’Neill’s exceptions to the rule.
Rodney poked him. “Stop pouting. You can come next time.”
