I'm a writing fool tonight!
Aug. 14th, 2005 01:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
history_gurlSo, just a little something else I wrote.
It's actually all![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aithine's fault. She posted a rant about juvenile stories and behaviours, then she wrote the "crack!fic" to go with it. And somewhere in there, I said I'd write the song!fic to accompany it.
So, here you go, seriously tongue in cheekcrackfic songfic little ficlet.
Big Hands
Rodney walked wearily into his room, his body still drenched in sweat from the hours spent in the HAZMAT suit, his ankle aching where the rope had wrenched it at the end of his Ford-induced thrill ride. He was somewhat surprised to find Major, no, strike that, Colonel Sheppard waiting for him, sitting on his bed. Although they'd been having sex since just after the Chaya fiasco (as he always thought of it), they usually arranged their meetings; showing up unannounced just wasn't done, and Rodney was in no mood after the day he'd had.
Relying on his strengths, Rodney decided to go on the offensive. "Was there something you needed, Colonel? Did I neglect to dot all the Is and cross all the Ts in my preliminary report? Or did you give your room up to tall, dark and dreadlocked and now you're looking for a place to stay?"
Sheppard, who could give a blow job that would curl your toes without ever losing his amused half smirk, looked somewhat surprised at Rodney's vehemence, but he quickly regained his composure.
"Gee, Rodney, thanks so much for offering, but we've set Ronon up in visitor's quarters." The smirk was back, and Rodney thought he might have gotten excited if he wasn't so damn tired.
"I wasn't offering, Major." Rodney waved off the correction before it could be made. "And I hope you have guards posted at those quarters."
Eyelashes fluttered and the smirk turned into a full fledged grin as Sheppard looked up. "Concerned for my virtue, McKay?"
The twitch in Rodney's pants battled with his pride and ego; years of practice let pride and ego win. Slinging his jacket over the back of his chair, Rodney slumped into the chair and began to unlace his boots. "Look, I'm sure you're not here to discuss which frosh got the best dorm room, so could you please tell me why you are here, then, when you're done, I can kick you out and get some sleep."
"You know, you do look a little beat." Sheppard ignored the incredulous glare McKay turned upon him. "How about I just tell you what I came by to say, then I'll get outta your hair?"
"Didn't I just say that?"
"So," Sheppard slid to the edge of the bed, and Rodney finally noticed that the other man had something clutched in his right hand. "I know that we don't, ya know, talk or anything. But, today, I realized some things. So, instead of talking, I thought I'd give you this."
Rodney jumped as an MP3 player was shoved into his hand. It was one with over a gigabyte of storage, and his confusion must have shown in his eyes. "Don't worry; they're not all for you. It's cued up to the right song, even the right line. It's just, it's just something I can't say to you, so, um, don't play it until after I leave, okay?"
His head nodding dumbly, Rodney watched Sheppard move toward the door. Finding his voice, he called out. "Wait. You realized some things? What does that mean?"
"Listen to the song, Rodney, and you'll know how I was feeling today." The door whispered open and Sheppard slipped out with a faint "Good night."
Leaving his shoes sitting by the chair, Rodney plugged the player into his laptop. Just as Sheppard had promised, a song was cued, but Rodney hesitated to play it. He was comfortable with their arrangement, and part of him feared that this could change things somehow. With a roll of his shoulders, and a muttered reminder that he could handle big things now, Rodney pressed play.
As the sounds of the Violent Femmes blasted out of his laptop speakers, Rodney dropped his head on the desk. The song was even cued to the chorus, so the first thing he heard was "Lemme go off, like I blister in the sun." Before the song had finished cycling through the next verse, he was chuckling, by the time it repeated in full, he was singing along. "I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out. / Lemme go off, like I blister in the sun. / Lemme go off, big hands I know your the one."
Shutting down his laptop, Rodney slid into his bed, smiling and relieved.
It's actually all
aithine's fault. She posted a rant about juvenile stories and behaviours, then she wrote the "crack!fic" to go with it. And somewhere in there, I said I'd write the song!fic to accompany it.So, here you go, seriously tongue in cheek
Big Hands
Rodney walked wearily into his room, his body still drenched in sweat from the hours spent in the HAZMAT suit, his ankle aching where the rope had wrenched it at the end of his Ford-induced thrill ride. He was somewhat surprised to find Major, no, strike that, Colonel Sheppard waiting for him, sitting on his bed. Although they'd been having sex since just after the Chaya fiasco (as he always thought of it), they usually arranged their meetings; showing up unannounced just wasn't done, and Rodney was in no mood after the day he'd had.
Relying on his strengths, Rodney decided to go on the offensive. "Was there something you needed, Colonel? Did I neglect to dot all the Is and cross all the Ts in my preliminary report? Or did you give your room up to tall, dark and dreadlocked and now you're looking for a place to stay?"
Sheppard, who could give a blow job that would curl your toes without ever losing his amused half smirk, looked somewhat surprised at Rodney's vehemence, but he quickly regained his composure.
"Gee, Rodney, thanks so much for offering, but we've set Ronon up in visitor's quarters." The smirk was back, and Rodney thought he might have gotten excited if he wasn't so damn tired.
"I wasn't offering, Major." Rodney waved off the correction before it could be made. "And I hope you have guards posted at those quarters."
Eyelashes fluttered and the smirk turned into a full fledged grin as Sheppard looked up. "Concerned for my virtue, McKay?"
The twitch in Rodney's pants battled with his pride and ego; years of practice let pride and ego win. Slinging his jacket over the back of his chair, Rodney slumped into the chair and began to unlace his boots. "Look, I'm sure you're not here to discuss which frosh got the best dorm room, so could you please tell me why you are here, then, when you're done, I can kick you out and get some sleep."
"You know, you do look a little beat." Sheppard ignored the incredulous glare McKay turned upon him. "How about I just tell you what I came by to say, then I'll get outta your hair?"
"Didn't I just say that?"
"So," Sheppard slid to the edge of the bed, and Rodney finally noticed that the other man had something clutched in his right hand. "I know that we don't, ya know, talk or anything. But, today, I realized some things. So, instead of talking, I thought I'd give you this."
Rodney jumped as an MP3 player was shoved into his hand. It was one with over a gigabyte of storage, and his confusion must have shown in his eyes. "Don't worry; they're not all for you. It's cued up to the right song, even the right line. It's just, it's just something I can't say to you, so, um, don't play it until after I leave, okay?"
His head nodding dumbly, Rodney watched Sheppard move toward the door. Finding his voice, he called out. "Wait. You realized some things? What does that mean?"
"Listen to the song, Rodney, and you'll know how I was feeling today." The door whispered open and Sheppard slipped out with a faint "Good night."
Leaving his shoes sitting by the chair, Rodney plugged the player into his laptop. Just as Sheppard had promised, a song was cued, but Rodney hesitated to play it. He was comfortable with their arrangement, and part of him feared that this could change things somehow. With a roll of his shoulders, and a muttered reminder that he could handle big things now, Rodney pressed play.
As the sounds of the Violent Femmes blasted out of his laptop speakers, Rodney dropped his head on the desk. The song was even cued to the chorus, so the first thing he heard was "Lemme go off, like I blister in the sun." Before the song had finished cycling through the next verse, he was chuckling, by the time it repeated in full, he was singing along. "I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out. / Lemme go off, like I blister in the sun. / Lemme go off, big hands I know your the one."
Shutting down his laptop, Rodney slid into his bed, smiling and relieved.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 06:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 03:16 pm (UTC)Thanks chickie.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 06:32 am (UTC)Oh. Oh, that's perfect.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 03:18 pm (UTC)Damn song's been haunting me all week, making me giggle at inappropriate times. Glad I could share the wealth.
And your icon? Perfect also. Mmmmmmm. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 10:52 pm (UTC)It could be worse. You could have the soundtrack from Spamalot stuck in your head. One of my co-workers threatened to brain me with a mammoth femur if I didn't stop whistling "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life."
And your icon? Perfect also. Mmmmmmm. *g*
Hee! Thank you. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 12:19 am (UTC)I have, more than once. But I usually just wander around saying things like "But father, I want to sing!" Then people look at me funny. Perhaps I should stick to the better known Python quotes. *evil grin*
She's got huuuge ... tracts of land
Date: 2005-08-15 01:31 am (UTC)People look at me funny all the time. One gets used to it. ;)
Re: She's got huuuge ... tracts of land
Date: 2005-08-15 01:39 am (UTC)And the funny looks? Couldn't live without 'em. :D
Re: She's got huuuge ... tracts of land
Date: 2005-08-15 01:42 am (UTC)Re: She's got huuuge ... tracts of land
Date: 2005-08-15 02:09 am (UTC)Re: She's got huuuge ... tracts of land
Date: 2005-08-15 02:13 am (UTC)Re: She's got huuuge ... tracts of land
Date: 2005-08-15 02:44 am (UTC)lalalalalalalalalalalala I can't hear you!
No, really, you try explaining it to the panda. I dare you. He isn't named Rodney for no reason, ya know.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 04:25 pm (UTC)^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-14 09:24 pm (UTC)And that song? Still playing in my head, but now with pictures of the toe curling blow job too. I really gotta stop doing these things to myself. *vbg*