John: Rodney! Rodney, come on. I’m sorry, okay?
Rodney: No.
John: Come on, you know I didn’t really mean it, right? Right?
Rodney: You traded me for the local equivalent of mung beans, Colonel.
John: You traded me for a ZPM once, Rodney!
Rodney: We needed that ZPM! Besides, my trade involved you getting to spend the night with the chief’s daughter.
John: It’s practically the same thing.
Rodney: They wanted to eat me!
John: Yeah, okay, maybe it’s not the same thing. But, Rodney, those were really good beans.
Rodney: Do not speak to me. Don’t even look at me.
John: Rodney…
Rodney: WANTED TO EAT ME!!!
Rodney leaves a handful of feathers behind in his haste to fly away in a huff. John crouches to pick one of them up and examine it in the failing light: the browns, golds, and hints of oranges swirling intricately. How his best friend hadn’t been aware the entire plan was a ruse escapes John; Rodney’s body is clearly worth ten times what they received for him, and that’s not putting his brilliance into account at all. Had the Natives of the Week been remotely aware of the intelligence trapped behind those piercing blue eyes, there wouldn’t have been enough beans in the galaxy to conduct a trade fair enough for him.
Explaining stuff like that, explaining feelings, has never come easily to John, and that’s the problem. Rodney needs that reassurance, especially since the change. John rises out of his crouch with a groan. Man up, Sheppard, he tells himself and tucks the feather behind an ear. Do it before the kids find out or you’ll be picking dead things out of your hair for weeks, cause those balls of fluff can hold a serious grudge when they want to.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are so low that Rodney can barely make them out, even with his enhanced hearing. He swivels his head around quickly to see John lurking in the doorway, head hanging as he stares at the floor. Rodney can practically see the misery radiating from him. John looks like an puppy who’s been banished to the doghouse in the rain, and Rodney’s first instinct is to tell him he’s forgiven. If only to get that look off his face.
He quashes down the impulse. Sheppard had traded him for a bunch of beans. And they hadn’t even sprouted a giant beanstalk for him to use as a getaway.
He didn’t even remember how it happened. He’d been sitting on John’s shoulder, only half-listening while John and Teyla bartered with the chief to trade medical supplies for food. Ronan had returned from making a circuit of the village, muttered something in John’s ear, and the next thing Rodney knew, the chief was slapping a pair of jesses around his legs.
Rodney had screamed in protest, trying to take off, but the jesses had been disappointingly effective, and the chief had dragged him down and pinned his wings to his sides with a surprisingly-strong grip. And then he’d had to watch in a mix of horror and fury as his team, unarmed per the initial trade agreement, was forced out of the village at spear point.
Rodney had originally thought that the chief had intended to keep him as a pet, or some kind of idol. Embarrassing, but nothing that he couldn’t endure until his team came roaring back to the rescue. And then he’d seen the spit over a blazing fire.
In between his furious attempts to escape his captors, Rodney had picked up on the fact that apparently he was considered a delicacy, but most of the owls on the planet were smart enough to keep from being eaten. The villagers apparently hadn’t been able to resist the idea of their dinner riding into their village on someone’s shoulder.
They’d actually tied him to the spit and had been carrying him over to the fire when his team came back to rescue him. Ronan had been the one to cut the ropes binding him to the stick, and then Rodney had taken to the sky and refused to touch down again until he’d reached the Stargate.
Rodney shakes himself out of his disturbing thoughts, looking back to see John still standing in the doorway. He hasn’t budged an inch after the first time he’d spoken.
“They were going to eat me,” Rodney reminds him, because it can’t possibly be stressed enough times. “I was going to be dinner.”
“I know.” John’s voice is still low, but at least he looks up at Rodney, a distinctly hangdog expression on his face. “I am sorry, Rodney. They were talking about how much they admired you, and I made a crappy joke. I didn’t think they’d take me seriously.”
“Doesn’t explain why it took you so long to come back to get me,” Rodney mutters, glaring at the other man.
“We had to get our weapons from the jumper,” John protests, finally coming further into the room.
He’s eying the owlets where they’re sleeping on their perch, and Rodney knows he’s remembering the last time the kids thought John had done something to hurt him. He’d been dodging pellets for weeks. The kids had amazing aim when they were pissed off. Especially Hypatia.
“Weapons, Colonel?” Rodney prompts, when John keeps staring at the owlets.
“Weapons, yes,” John replies, tearing his gaze away from the sleeping kids. “Well, that and the temple Ronan found with a mini-ZPM in it.”
Rodney stares at John. “Mini-ZPM?” he echoes. “You found a mini-ZPM and you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly in a talkative mood,” John says, defensively, but then he shakes his head. “No. No, this is on me. I didn’t mean to trade you, it was a crappy joke, and I should have found a way to let you know what was going on. I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven,” Rodney tells him, magnanimously. “And if you give me the ZedPM, I won’t even tell the kids what you did.”
“We’re still hiding it in the Jumper,” John tells him, as Rodney glides across the room to land on the pad on his shoulder. “No one else has even seen it, yet. You’ve got first crack.”
“As it should be,” Rodney informs him, and John’s laughter fills the corridor.
(via beckersher)
John: Rodney! Rodney, come on. I’m sorry, okay?
Rodney: No.
John: Come on, you know I didn’t really mean it, right? Right?
Rodney: You traded me for the local equivalent of mung beans, Colonel.
John: You traded me for a ZPM once, Rodney!
Rodney: We needed that ZPM! Besides, my trade involved you getting to spend the night with the chief’s daughter.
John: It’s practically the same thing.
Rodney: They wanted to eat me!
John: Yeah, okay, maybe it’s not the same thing. But, Rodney, those were really good beans.
Rodney: Do not speak to me. Don’t even look at me.
John: Rodney…
Rodney: WANTED TO EAT ME!!!
Rodney leaves a handful of feathers behind in his haste to fly away in a huff. John crouches to pick one of them up and examine it in the failing light: the browns, golds, and hints of oranges swirling intricately. How his best friend hadn’t been aware the entire plan was a ruse escapes John; Rodney’s body is clearly worth ten times what they received for him, and that’s not putting his brilliance into account at all. Had the Natives of the Week been remotely aware of the intelligence trapped behind those piercing blue eyes, there wouldn’t have been enough beans in the galaxy to conduct a trade fair enough for him.
Explaining stuff like that, explaining feelings, has never come easily to John, and that’s the problem. Rodney needs that reassurance, especially since the change. John rises out of his crouch with a groan. Man up, Sheppard, he tells himself and tucks the feather behind an ear. Do it before the kids find out or you’ll be picking dead things out of your hair for weeks, cause those balls of fluff can hold a serious grudge when they want to.
John: Rodney! Rodney, come on. I’m sorry, okay?
Rodney: No.
John: Come on, you know I didn’t really mean it, right? Right?
Rodney: You traded me for the local equivalent of mung beans, Colonel.
John: You traded me for a ZPM once, Rodney!
Rodney: We needed that ZPM! Besides, my trade involved you getting to spend the night with the chief’s daughter.
John: It’s practically the same thing.
Rodney: They wanted to eat me!
John: Yeah, okay, maybe it’s not the same thing. But, Rodney, those were really good beans.
Rodney: Do not speak to me. Don’t even look at me.
John: Rodney…
Rodney: WANTED TO EAT ME!!!
John and the babies
The Owlets with John: http://fat-birds.tumblr.com/post/44490408217/saw-whet-owl-weve-got-lovely-owl-angry-owl
This baby owl hit our window. Gave us this look the whole time - Imgur
YOUR FORCEFIELD DISPLEASES ME
AS DOES YOUR INTERIOR DECORATING
HELP I AM CRY
This is the look Rodney gives scientists when they screw up.
(via colonelmarvel)
forlorn-kumquat asked: Rodney the owl won't stop staring at me. I had to follow just to get peace, lest he find me in the middle of the night. (seriously, though, awesome blog)
Thank you!
Rodney’s not going to let his new form prevent him from getting the attention he feels he deserves :P
“One of you… ONE OF YOU… thought it would be funny to rub lemon on the inside of my coffee mug.”
“Sir… Doctor McKay, we just—”
“You ‘just’ chose today to die. Horribly.”
“*whimper*”
“Rodney, great that you’re learning from Ronon, but keep it to self-defense and not scaring my Marines!”
“Quiet, Sheppard! I am intimidating and majestic!”
“But—”
“INTIMIDATING and MAJESTIC.”
“*sigh*”
“Rodney? How ya doin’, buddy?”
“I’m… I’m being RUFFLED by this deliciously brisk breeze, Colonel. I am, for once, OKAY.”
“Ha! Yeah, that’s the spirit. Look, McKay, I’m really sorry about—”
“Please don’t mention it!”
“….”
“Not in the polite way, I mean, really: don’t mention it. I don’t want to remember being ROTISSERIE. And, no, Sheppard, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I can’t imagine anyone WOULD wanna remember being rotisserie. But… Rodney…”
“John, LISTEN to me, please. I am telling you: there was no way you could know that P43-X87’s natives would respond to the sight of an owl by first proclaiming me a gift from the gods and then deciding the only way to enjoy that gift would be to….” *gagging noise*
“Okay, yeah, let’s not think about that. Just… you’re okay, right? We got to you before more than a few feathers singed?”
“I’m fine. My FEATHERS are fine. And the memory of Ronon FOLLOWING you as you plowed through an entire crowd of people - in some cases leaping over them nimble as a gazelle - is doing wonders to calm my nerves.”
*grinning* “Yeah, but did you see TEYLA?”
“Did I see Teyla pull a Rafiki on the Chief when he laughed about how puny she was? Yes, I did.”
“You know who Rafiki is?”
“I have a niece!”
“Yeah, but—”
“Go away, Sheppard, and let me enjoy my not-roasting.”
Later, Rodney wonders how *John* knows who Rafiki is.
(via beckersher)
“C’mon, Rodney! It was just a—”
“I suppose, Colonel, that you’re going to say something insipid like ‘it was just a joke’.”
“Well… yeah. Because it WAS!”
“Jokes are supposed to be FUNNY, Colonel. Do I LOOK like I’m laughing?”
“No, not really. You kinda look like you’re about to destroy Tokyo.”
“That was Godzilla! I am not a gigantic raging lizard monster! What I am, Sheppard, is a very much mistreated and annoyed Chief Scientist!”
“Actually, you’re an ow—”
“If you finish that, I will vomit on everything you love, Sheppard - starting with your golf clubs and then moving on to that stupid poster!”
“You leave Johnny out of this!”
