Overture by maverick4oz (PG)
Nov. 7th, 2010 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danceswithgary posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecShow: SGA
Rec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Characters:: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maverick4oz
Author's Website: The Pokey
Link: Overture
Why This Must Be Read:
Rodney's 'failure' at piano lessons has always been a favorite piece of canon for me. In my opinion, his confession/apology to Sam Carter did a lot to redeem an unpleasant character and provided fodder for some lovely stories. In this example, after John hears the story and later nearly loses Rodney, he initiates Operation Piano Man. A sweet story of discovery and cooperation, it always leaves me with a smile.
Excerpt:
It’s strange, but they don’t talk about Atlantis. John can tell some days that Rodney wants to, but John can’t face it yet. It’s still too raw. He hasn’t had the time to bury it deep enough inside him so that it won’t rise to the surface and choke him.
But one night, after they finished dissecting the advantages and disadvantages of TIE Fighters vs. X-wings, John can tell Rodney can't face the silence any longer. It was only a matter of time.
And then Rodney's talking. “You know, I’ve only ever felt this lost once before.”
"When?" John asks, knowing he owes Rodney at least that much.
The words tumble off Rodney's tongue. “I played piano. I was quite good. Or so I thought. Technically proficient but lacking passion, my teacher informed me."
John settles the phone at his ear and takes a swig of his beer. A McKay that isn't all about science isn't easy to picture. "How old were you?"
"Twelve. So, I gave it up. Stopped playing. Made my parents sell the piano."
"Twelve?" John repeats. Who the hell had passion at twelve?
Rodney continues. “And to this day, a part of me still misses it. My fingers ache to play. So I know I’ll learn to live with it.” He pauses like he has to steel himself to get the words out. “Live without Atlantis. Just like I learned to live without music, but I don’t want to, you know? I really don't want to.”
And John does know. So he shares the story of his black mark. He tells Rodney more than he’s told anyone else. He tells him that even knowing the consequences, he’d do it all again, he’d make the same choice, that his only regret was that he didn't get there in time.
And Rodney, who for all his tactless blunders with most people has always shown a sort of grace with John, comes through again. “Of course you would. That’s why I go out with you on missions. Do you think I'd trust my very important brain to someone who wouldn't risk everything to bring his teammates home? No, I would not. In case you've forgotten, I'm much smarter than that.”
John can literally feel the laughter bubble up inside of him and burst forth like a new dawn breaking because Rodney's always going to be Rodney, no matter what galaxy they're in and there's a warped kind of comfort in that.
Rodney sighs loudly. "You're not laughing at me are you? Because that would be..."
John cuts him off, the laughter having made him a little breathless. "No McKay, I'm not laughing at you. Just happy that I've still got you doing your level best to drive me crazy."
"Well, it's not like that's much of a leap for you there, Colonel. Besides, I promised Ronon and Teyla I'd look out for you."
John almost gasps at that. He knows that Rodney said his own goodbyes to Teyla and Ronon, but it never occurred to him that he'd be a part of it as well. Of course, that's pretty dumb because he made similar promises about Rodney to both of them. But still. "Look out for me?"
Rodney snorts. "Yes, apparently that's what teammates do. You know when they're not busy beating each other with sticks, mocking each other's childhood traumas, or making things go boom." He pauses for a moment and his voice gets almost quiet. "That's what families do."
When John hangs up that night, he’s struck by Rodney’s words.
Team. Family.
For the first time in a long time, John has a home. And it’s not just Atlantis. It’s the people too. It’s Ronon and Teyla in a galaxy far, far away. It’s Carson and Elizabeth, both close but lost in their own sorrow. And it’s Rodney. Rodney who’s the only one of them brave enough to admit to and rail against what they’ve lost.
For some reason that makes John feel better. He's not alone. Rodney's got his six. Instinctively, he knows they'll make it back to Atlantis. He feels it down to his bones.
...
Rec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Characters:: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:
maverick4ozAuthor's Website: The Pokey
Link: Overture
Why This Must Be Read:
Rodney's 'failure' at piano lessons has always been a favorite piece of canon for me. In my opinion, his confession/apology to Sam Carter did a lot to redeem an unpleasant character and provided fodder for some lovely stories. In this example, after John hears the story and later nearly loses Rodney, he initiates Operation Piano Man. A sweet story of discovery and cooperation, it always leaves me with a smile.
Excerpt:
It’s strange, but they don’t talk about Atlantis. John can tell some days that Rodney wants to, but John can’t face it yet. It’s still too raw. He hasn’t had the time to bury it deep enough inside him so that it won’t rise to the surface and choke him.
But one night, after they finished dissecting the advantages and disadvantages of TIE Fighters vs. X-wings, John can tell Rodney can't face the silence any longer. It was only a matter of time.
And then Rodney's talking. “You know, I’ve only ever felt this lost once before.”
"When?" John asks, knowing he owes Rodney at least that much.
The words tumble off Rodney's tongue. “I played piano. I was quite good. Or so I thought. Technically proficient but lacking passion, my teacher informed me."
John settles the phone at his ear and takes a swig of his beer. A McKay that isn't all about science isn't easy to picture. "How old were you?"
"Twelve. So, I gave it up. Stopped playing. Made my parents sell the piano."
"Twelve?" John repeats. Who the hell had passion at twelve?
Rodney continues. “And to this day, a part of me still misses it. My fingers ache to play. So I know I’ll learn to live with it.” He pauses like he has to steel himself to get the words out. “Live without Atlantis. Just like I learned to live without music, but I don’t want to, you know? I really don't want to.”
And John does know. So he shares the story of his black mark. He tells Rodney more than he’s told anyone else. He tells him that even knowing the consequences, he’d do it all again, he’d make the same choice, that his only regret was that he didn't get there in time.
And Rodney, who for all his tactless blunders with most people has always shown a sort of grace with John, comes through again. “Of course you would. That’s why I go out with you on missions. Do you think I'd trust my very important brain to someone who wouldn't risk everything to bring his teammates home? No, I would not. In case you've forgotten, I'm much smarter than that.”
John can literally feel the laughter bubble up inside of him and burst forth like a new dawn breaking because Rodney's always going to be Rodney, no matter what galaxy they're in and there's a warped kind of comfort in that.
Rodney sighs loudly. "You're not laughing at me are you? Because that would be..."
John cuts him off, the laughter having made him a little breathless. "No McKay, I'm not laughing at you. Just happy that I've still got you doing your level best to drive me crazy."
"Well, it's not like that's much of a leap for you there, Colonel. Besides, I promised Ronon and Teyla I'd look out for you."
John almost gasps at that. He knows that Rodney said his own goodbyes to Teyla and Ronon, but it never occurred to him that he'd be a part of it as well. Of course, that's pretty dumb because he made similar promises about Rodney to both of them. But still. "Look out for me?"
Rodney snorts. "Yes, apparently that's what teammates do. You know when they're not busy beating each other with sticks, mocking each other's childhood traumas, or making things go boom." He pauses for a moment and his voice gets almost quiet. "That's what families do."
When John hangs up that night, he’s struck by Rodney’s words.
Team. Family.
For the first time in a long time, John has a home. And it’s not just Atlantis. It’s the people too. It’s Ronon and Teyla in a galaxy far, far away. It’s Carson and Elizabeth, both close but lost in their own sorrow. And it’s Rodney. Rodney who’s the only one of them brave enough to admit to and rail against what they’ve lost.
For some reason that makes John feel better. He's not alone. Rodney's got his six. Instinctively, he knows they'll make it back to Atlantis. He feels it down to his bones.
...
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