Bite Sized Bits of Fic

Stargate Multiverse, Any, Pentagon

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BBC Merlin, Merlin +/ any, Imagine Dragons

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DC Extended Universe, Arthur Curry +/ any, Body-Shock

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Any Sentinel Fusion, any m/m, Spirit Animal

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“Your spirit animal is a what now?” Bruce asked.

“A sloth.” Barry continued slurping up noodles.

“What’s up with the metal chopsticks?” Clark asked. He was twirling up his noodles with a fork. Now that Justice League brunch was at the Hall of Justice instead of at an actual restaurant, people were taking turns cooking and bringing food.

“Korean,” Diana said.

Clark eyed Barry. “Are you Korean?”

“Jewish,” he said. “But I like Korean food.”

“And Korean music,” Arthur grumbled.

“Back up,” Bruce said. “Let’s go back to the part where Barry’s spirit animal is a sloth.”

“I didn’t pick it,” Barry said. “It just...is.”

“It is a cute sloth,” Diana said, smiling.

Bruce frowned at her. “How have you seen his spirit animal?”

Diana patted Barry’s arm. “He showed me a picture.”

Victor nudged Arthur. “What’s your spirit animal then?”

“An eagle,” Barry said.

“There’s a flying fish joke in there.” Victor grinned.

Arthur did not look amused.

“That seems...backwards,” Bruce said.

“A lot of people think it’s backwards, that I’m the Sentinel and Arthur’s the Guide, but it is what it is.” Barry slurped up some more noodles and chewed, smiled.

Arthur reached out, swiped his thumb over the corner of Barry’s mouth to wipe away kimchi red sauce. Barry blinked at him, swallowed.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Arthur shrugged and continued shoveling noodles into his mouth.

“What kind of eagle?” Victor asked.

Arthur shrugged again.

“That explains your new feather tattoo.” Lois smiled at him.

Clark frowned at her. “What new feather tattoo?”

“On his back,” Lois said, pointing at Arthur vaguely with her chopsticks.

“Why are you looking at Arthur’s back?”

“He doesn’t wear a shirt when he swims,” Lois said, brow furrowing. “We all went swimming together the other day, remember?”

“Right,” Clark said flatly.

“I’m glad you found your spirit animals,” Diana said. “That means your bond is evolving.”

“A sloth,” Bruce said again.

Victor snapped his fingers. “We’ve moved on from that. Keep up. What’s for dessert?”

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A sloth! Bwa ha ha! I love that! And I love that Bruce can't seem to get past it. ::grins:: You write the group very well, I love the banter and the attitude and Barry noisily slurping his noodles.

Thank you so much!

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You are so welcome! I saw this prompt and knew what I had to do. Thanks for the inspiration for this month's what-if AU theme. :)

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My pleasure! ::grins::

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Stargate Multiverse, Any, Dire Straits

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Marvel Cinematic Universe, Any, They Might Be Giants

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Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, Temptations

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Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, Starship

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Stargate Atlantis, any ensemble, OK Go

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Any, any, Panic! at the Disco

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Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tony Stark (+/ any), Friends in Tokyo

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Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, Soundgarden

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It took some effort for John to get Rodney out of his lab. He’d secluded himself more than usual after Carson’s death, all but closed himself off. John had been willing to give him a little time. After all, Rodney had known Carson longer than most of the others. John decided the mourning period was over.

“I’m very busy, Sheppard,” Rodney said dismissively. His table was littered with Power Bar wrappers and dirty coffee mugs.

“You’re taking a break,” John corrected. He took hold of Rodney’s elbow and pulled him out of his chair.

“Hey! You can’t go around strong-arming people, Colonel! Elizabeth is going to hear about this!”

“Wonderful. You can tell her when we get there.” John propelled him out of the lab and towards the nearest transporter.

“When we get where?” Rodney asked, pulling his arm out of John’s grasp. “I have work! Very important –”

“Rodney. It’s Sunday. No work today.”

John kicked himself for putting it so bluntly when Rodney visibly paled.

“Sunday? So soon?”

“It’s been over a month,” John said. He tapped his selection on the transporter map. “And you need some fresh air.”

The transporter took them to the West Pier, which was already full of people wandering around in their civvies.

“What is this? Why are all these people out here?”

“Just listen.”

The botanists had been working almost around the clock, and it showed. The pier now boasted a little potted plant park, with pathways leading around brightly colored native flowers and towering stalks of greenery. But the plants weren’t the big draw.

Interspersed with the fauna were tall metal posts. Some had windchimes dangling off them. Others were fashioned with the kind of tubes one might find on a pipe organ, so that when the wind blew through them it made a low, melancholy noise almost like a ship’s horn. With the chimes providing higher-octave tinkling, the mix of sound was actually really nice.

John took Rodney to the entrance of the little park and pointed out the plaque that had been placed there.

Dr. Carson Beckett
Memorial Sound Garden

“Oh,” Rodney said in a small voice. He turned his head away, but not fast enough for John to miss that he had tears in his eyes.

“Come on, buddy.” John knocked his shoulder against Rodney’s and led the way into the garden. There were several little alcoves with benches, so people could sit and enjoy the sounds, and John steered them towards the first empty one.

“They did all this in a month?” Rodney asked, his voice rough.

“A lot of people pitched in. But it was Dr. Peace’s idea. She thought it was just the kind of thing Carson would’ve liked.”

Rodney nodded, his lips pressed tight together.

“We all miss him,” John said softly. “But locking yourself away in your lab won’t make you feel any better.”

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“I could’ve saved him.” Rodney stared at his hands. “Like I saved Radek. I could’ve gone through the database, found out about the lab before anyone died. It would have been the easiest thing.”

He was talking about the Ascension machine, the one that had nearly killed him. John remembered how it had felt, being helpless to save Rodney from his own brain. And how much he’d accomplished while he had his special super powers. He’d erased Ronon’s scars. Saved Radek from a painful death. Invented a new math that no-one understood, not even Rodney once he’d turned back into his normal self again.

“No point in looking back,” John said. “Believe me. I’ve been there.”

“Ronon told me the same thing.” Rodney sighed. “It’s just…he was my first real friend. I know I’m not easy to get along with, but he put up with me.”

“You’re not that bad,” John said.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

It hadn’t been John’s intention to get into a deep discussion of Rodney’s merits. He’d just wanted to get the guy outside, show him that no-one would forget Carson and it was okay to move on. Now he was thinking about regrets. Lord knew he had plenty of them, amongst them blowing Carson off when he wanted to go fishing. Rodney wasn’t the only one at fault for last Sunday.

John’s biggest regret was sitting on the bench next to him.

“I’m not a good friend,” Rodney insisted.

Fuck it.

“You’re good enough for me,” John said. And before he could stop himself or consider all the terrible repercussions of what he was doing, he leaned over and kissed Rodney. It was just a quick press of lips, but John’s heart was thundering in his chest as if he’d just narrowly avoided a fiery death of his own.

Rodney stared at him, eyes wide, for a painfully long moment, and then he fairly launched himself at John, kissing him frantically. John slowed it down, setting a more languid pace, and Rodney melted against him. It was pretty damn perfect, except he was pretty sure Rodney was crying.

“Hey.”

“Sorry. It’s just…he said you liked me. Like that. And I wanted to believe him, but you’re so…you…and he was right, and he can’t even gloat about it.”

John didn’t say anything, just hugged him, his own throat a little tight. The chimes tinkled and the pipes made their deep bellows, and in that moment John felt like Carson was indeed gloating. And maybe congratulating them for finally getting their heads out of their asses.

“I should warn you,” Rodney murmured against the side of John’s neck. “As terrible a friend as I am, I’m an even worse boyfriend.”

John huffed out a laugh. “You’re a genius, Rodney. You’ll figure it out.”

Rodney answered with a slightly salty kiss.

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I love this fill so much - a beautiful memorial to Carson by the entire expedition (and perfect for the prompt!), plus further exploration of Rodney's more sensitive side, him grieving Carson, but he and John finding some happiness out of it. Well done!

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Aww, thank you! I may have done some Googling, which led me to the sound garden in Washington that gave the band their name. The idea sprang from that.

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Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne +/ any, Fieldwork

Edited Date: 2018-11-07 03:56 pm (UTC)

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“When you said this was a harvest festival, I thought you meant pumpkins and copious amounts of food,” Rodney said, leaning on his shovel and panting. He knew he was red-faced, and not just from exertion, even though Evan’s grandmother had given him a wide-brimmed straw hat.

On the next row over, Evan was shirtless, torso gleaming with sweat, wielding a sickle with practiced ease. “Once we’re done with the harvest, there will be copious amounts of food. Including citrus-free pumpkin pie.”

“When you said Korean Thanksgiving was a big deal in your family, I thought you meant...Thanksgiving.” Rodney was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Evan’s entire family was Korean, that he’d been adopted by a Korean family as a baby, because as a baby he’d had dark hair and brown eyes and no one had thought twice about it (except one time when he was three and had blue eyes and some well-meaning tourists had thought he was lost and had kidnapped him from his mother, only to discover that he mostly spoke Korean and he wanted his mother back and he wanted her back now).

“Well, they call it Korean Thanksgiving, but Chuseok is a lot older than Thanksgiving as a holiday,” Evan said. “Lots of other cultures around here have similar Autumn Festivals or Harvest Festivals. You remember Dr. Chang and his Moon Cakes.”

Dr. Chang, a mathematician, looked forward to his annual delivery of moon cakes the way most children looked forward to Christmas.

“I didn’t think this kind of festival involved actual field work,” Rodney said. “I thought the whole harvest thing was...symbolic.”

“For a lot of people it is, but my grandparents have an actual farm, so here we are.” Evan smiled. Then he offered Rodney his canteen.

Rodney took a long drink gratefully. Living in Siberia for a long stretch had taught him what it was like, being the only person in the room who had no idea what anyone else was saying, but he’d managed to fumble by with his French once in a while.

Evan’s mother, grandmother, sister, and sister’s family all spoke fluent English, with American accents even, but none of the rest of Evan’s family - grandfather, aunts, uncles, cousins - spoke a lick of English, and Rodney felt like they were all constantly staring at him and talking about him. At least in Siberia he hadn’t looked like the odd one out.

Sure, in a borrowed tunic and work pants and straw hat, from a distance he looked like everyone else in the field, but with his pale skin and lighter hair, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Just a couple more hours, and we’ll be done,” Evan said. “Then we can hike into town and take a nice, long, hot bath.”

Rodney had always thought that Evan being more touchy-feely and less prudish than most of the other American soldiers was because he’d spent some of his childhood on a hippy commune outside San Francisco, but a good deal of it was from being raised Korean. Apparently he’d shared showers and baths with his boy cousins growing up and didn’t think it all that weird, to climb into another guy’s shower.

Rodney knew that being out on the front lines in a battlefield didn’t afford soldiers a lot of privacy, but still.

Evan looked pretty damn good, though, all sweat-sheened and golden from the sun. He’d been working hard all day.

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