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stargateficrecShow: SGA
Rec Category: Ronon genfic
Characters: Ronon-centric, with the usual crew in support, especially Chuck (the gateroom tech)
Categories: Gen
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
copperbadge
Author's Website: see the AO3
Link: My Home and Native Land
Why This Must Be Read: I love this fic so much - it's heartwarming and funny, and has masses of excellent Ronon POV and implied backstory. It's about him finding a new home now, many years after Sateda, and about missions and friends and belonging and competence and it's really really great.
"So I gotta file a mission report, Teyla's all over my ass about it," he opened, which made Chuck grin. The rest of the techs working on the MALP looked like they would rather be anywhere else, which was not an unfamiliar look to Ronon. "Can't type in English."
"Want me to type it for you?" Chuck said. One of his techs looked at him like he was insane.
"I could pay you. Dr. Weir says I get paid now," Ronon shrugged.
"Step into my parlor," Chuck said, leading him away from the MALP repairs and up to the console deck. "You don't have to pay me, I mean, it probably won't take long, right? And you'd better clear it with Colonel Sheppard, I'm not sure I have security clearance for some of the stuff you could tell me."
"Sure," Ronon said. "That mean you'll do it?"
"Yeah, sounds interesting. I'll teach you how too, if you want. Tell you what," Chuck snapped his fingers and pointed at him, and seriously, Canada might as well be a tribe, Chuck was totally related to McKay somehow, Ronon knew it. "I'll teach you to write in English, you teach me how to do that awesome thing with your blaster."
"Shoot people?" Ronon asked.
"No, the twirly thing. You know. When you show off in the gateroom to mess with Sheppard."
Ronon grinned. "You can't touch my gun, Chuck."
"I'll make a mock-up like they do for the cadet corps back home."
"You don't let your cadets handle real guns? How do you weed out the ones who can't duck fast enough?"
Chuck narrowed his eyes. "You're fucking with me, aren't you."
"Just a little."
Rec Category: Ronon genfic
Characters: Ronon-centric, with the usual crew in support, especially Chuck (the gateroom tech)
Categories: Gen
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:
copperbadgeAuthor's Website: see the AO3
Link: My Home and Native Land
Why This Must Be Read: I love this fic so much - it's heartwarming and funny, and has masses of excellent Ronon POV and implied backstory. It's about him finding a new home now, many years after Sateda, and about missions and friends and belonging and competence and it's really really great.
"So I gotta file a mission report, Teyla's all over my ass about it," he opened, which made Chuck grin. The rest of the techs working on the MALP looked like they would rather be anywhere else, which was not an unfamiliar look to Ronon. "Can't type in English."
"Want me to type it for you?" Chuck said. One of his techs looked at him like he was insane.
"I could pay you. Dr. Weir says I get paid now," Ronon shrugged.
"Step into my parlor," Chuck said, leading him away from the MALP repairs and up to the console deck. "You don't have to pay me, I mean, it probably won't take long, right? And you'd better clear it with Colonel Sheppard, I'm not sure I have security clearance for some of the stuff you could tell me."
"Sure," Ronon said. "That mean you'll do it?"
"Yeah, sounds interesting. I'll teach you how too, if you want. Tell you what," Chuck snapped his fingers and pointed at him, and seriously, Canada might as well be a tribe, Chuck was totally related to McKay somehow, Ronon knew it. "I'll teach you to write in English, you teach me how to do that awesome thing with your blaster."
"Shoot people?" Ronon asked.
"No, the twirly thing. You know. When you show off in the gateroom to mess with Sheppard."
Ronon grinned. "You can't touch my gun, Chuck."
"I'll make a mock-up like they do for the cadet corps back home."
"You don't let your cadets handle real guns? How do you weed out the ones who can't duck fast enough?"
Chuck narrowed his eyes. "You're fucking with me, aren't you."
"Just a little."
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