Merry Christmas!
Dec. 25th, 2005 02:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lierdumoaI'm moving in w/ ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fashes today! As soon as I finish getting all my stuffed packed. Whooo!
The story still isn't done. I'll try to finish it tonight and get it posted by tomorrow night, if possible. In the meanby, I'm posting a snippet, seeing as it's Christmas and all. Here is scene one of my, as yet untitled,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
undermistletoe fic.
"It's the month before Christmas, Rodney."
"Which doesn't really explain why every store here feels the need to cram a year's worth of faux holiday commercialism into said month."
"Have a little cheer. Think of how it started. The true meaning of the holiday. Didn't you ever watch A Charlie Brown Christmas when you were a kid?"
"The true meaning of the holiday, as you put it, has been commercial since the very beginning, when a bunch of religious zealots tried to sell their beliefs to the pagans by placing the calendar date for the birth of their god conveniently close to the already existing winter solstice celebration."
"Yeah, well you can't argue with presents."
You can. Rodney had even done it once, the twelfth time Aunt Mildred gave him fugly toe socks with little Santas on them and he was sixteen and in college and humiliated. You can, it just doesn't work. It's the day after Thanksgiving in the US at some smallish indoor mall in Colorado. Red and green lights line the window panes and ceiling arches. The building is packed with enough people to create a potential fire hazard and no less than three children have tried to attach themselves to Rodney's leg. No, he's not going to argue the merits of gift giving with John, if only because he's lost enough dignity this morning. Even if he is right.
And he is.
Presents only work if the person giving them actually knows you well enough to get you something you don't hate, and likes you well enough not to give you something you hate anyway out of spite.
Belatedly it occurs to Rodney that John does, in fact, both know him and like him. He is after all spending his leave with Rodney. Granted, it's entirely possible that's only because he doesn't have a family to spend the holiday with and staying at the SGC is like being inside of an ant hill, complete with itcy little droves of workers bumbling around the claustrophobic hallways every time you turn a corner. But even back in Atlantis, John doesn't exactly avoid him. In fact three and a half weeks ago he walked into the labs for no other reason than that he was bored and Rodney was, apparently, the most entertaining person he could think of to find.
Rodney snaps out of his musings to find John a fair distance away from him, standing outside an electronics store and staring longingly at some display featured within. Rodney walks up next to him, curious as to what exactly has captivated John's attention, only to see Back to the Future playing on a truly massive LCD screen. His mouth quirks up, just a little, knowing John could care less about the TV.
He calls John's name a few times in succession before John drags his eyes away from the movie to look at Rodney. "Lunch," Rodney says.
"Lead the way," John replies and smiles, and Rodney starts down the crowded hallway towards the food court, glancing back occasionally to check that John is still trailing lazily behind him.
John slides in closer as the crowd thickens and their elbows brush as they try not to lose each other in the mass of people. "What do you want to eat," Rodney yells back at him over the loud bustle of shoppers.
"I got breakfast. Your pick," John shouts back, hand resting briefly on Rodney's shoulder as he leans in to make himself heard.
Half an hour later lunch is bought and paid for and Rodney is walking back from the fast food counter with extra napkins and some ketchup packets while John's dusts the crumbs off their chosen table and steals a curly fry from Rodney's tray. He looks up to find Rodney watching him and pauses in his chewing long enough to give Rodney a smirk. Rodney raises an eyebrow and John's smirk turns into a grin.
Rodney unexpectedly finds himself grinning back and he realizes, suddenly, with frightening certainty that if John really believes all the bullshit they say in holiday tv specials despite the fact that he just spent the past week of his vacation, including a major family holiday, with his most antisocial coworker, then Rodney's not going to be the one to disillusion him.
He's going to get John the Best Christmas Present Ever.
Funny, he can't remember the last time he did more for Christmas than send his sister a card.
With eerily appropriate timing, child number four attaches itself to his leg without warning. Rodney gives a yelp of surprise, dropping his napkins and nearly jumping half a foot in the air despite the living anchor weighing him down. Looking down into the creatures large doe eyes, he resigns himself to his decision. If a month from now, everyone makes fun of him for his spectacularly failed attempts at gift giving, Rodney will just blame it on the Who from Whoville currently clutching at his pantleg with it's leechy little fingers for giving him a cardiovascular problem.
fashes today! As soon as I finish getting all my stuffed packed. Whooo!The story still isn't done. I'll try to finish it tonight and get it posted by tomorrow night, if possible. In the meanby, I'm posting a snippet, seeing as it's Christmas and all. Here is scene one of my, as yet untitled,
undermistletoe fic."It's the month before Christmas, Rodney."
"Which doesn't really explain why every store here feels the need to cram a year's worth of faux holiday commercialism into said month."
"Have a little cheer. Think of how it started. The true meaning of the holiday. Didn't you ever watch A Charlie Brown Christmas when you were a kid?"
"The true meaning of the holiday, as you put it, has been commercial since the very beginning, when a bunch of religious zealots tried to sell their beliefs to the pagans by placing the calendar date for the birth of their god conveniently close to the already existing winter solstice celebration."
"Yeah, well you can't argue with presents."
You can. Rodney had even done it once, the twelfth time Aunt Mildred gave him fugly toe socks with little Santas on them and he was sixteen and in college and humiliated. You can, it just doesn't work. It's the day after Thanksgiving in the US at some smallish indoor mall in Colorado. Red and green lights line the window panes and ceiling arches. The building is packed with enough people to create a potential fire hazard and no less than three children have tried to attach themselves to Rodney's leg. No, he's not going to argue the merits of gift giving with John, if only because he's lost enough dignity this morning. Even if he is right.
And he is.
Presents only work if the person giving them actually knows you well enough to get you something you don't hate, and likes you well enough not to give you something you hate anyway out of spite.
Belatedly it occurs to Rodney that John does, in fact, both know him and like him. He is after all spending his leave with Rodney. Granted, it's entirely possible that's only because he doesn't have a family to spend the holiday with and staying at the SGC is like being inside of an ant hill, complete with itcy little droves of workers bumbling around the claustrophobic hallways every time you turn a corner. But even back in Atlantis, John doesn't exactly avoid him. In fact three and a half weeks ago he walked into the labs for no other reason than that he was bored and Rodney was, apparently, the most entertaining person he could think of to find.
Rodney snaps out of his musings to find John a fair distance away from him, standing outside an electronics store and staring longingly at some display featured within. Rodney walks up next to him, curious as to what exactly has captivated John's attention, only to see Back to the Future playing on a truly massive LCD screen. His mouth quirks up, just a little, knowing John could care less about the TV.
He calls John's name a few times in succession before John drags his eyes away from the movie to look at Rodney. "Lunch," Rodney says.
"Lead the way," John replies and smiles, and Rodney starts down the crowded hallway towards the food court, glancing back occasionally to check that John is still trailing lazily behind him.
John slides in closer as the crowd thickens and their elbows brush as they try not to lose each other in the mass of people. "What do you want to eat," Rodney yells back at him over the loud bustle of shoppers.
"I got breakfast. Your pick," John shouts back, hand resting briefly on Rodney's shoulder as he leans in to make himself heard.
Half an hour later lunch is bought and paid for and Rodney is walking back from the fast food counter with extra napkins and some ketchup packets while John's dusts the crumbs off their chosen table and steals a curly fry from Rodney's tray. He looks up to find Rodney watching him and pauses in his chewing long enough to give Rodney a smirk. Rodney raises an eyebrow and John's smirk turns into a grin.
Rodney unexpectedly finds himself grinning back and he realizes, suddenly, with frightening certainty that if John really believes all the bullshit they say in holiday tv specials despite the fact that he just spent the past week of his vacation, including a major family holiday, with his most antisocial coworker, then Rodney's not going to be the one to disillusion him.
He's going to get John the Best Christmas Present Ever.
Funny, he can't remember the last time he did more for Christmas than send his sister a card.
With eerily appropriate timing, child number four attaches itself to his leg without warning. Rodney gives a yelp of surprise, dropping his napkins and nearly jumping half a foot in the air despite the living anchor weighing him down. Looking down into the creatures large doe eyes, he resigns himself to his decision. If a month from now, everyone makes fun of him for his spectacularly failed attempts at gift giving, Rodney will just blame it on the Who from Whoville currently clutching at his pantleg with it's leechy little fingers for giving him a cardiovascular problem.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-12-25 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 12:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 02:01 am (UTC)And, whoa, great icon.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 02:22 am (UTC)(also, I think my fave character in BSG is gaiusandsix. They're not even 2 characters to me anymore. XD)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-28 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-03 09:34 pm (UTC)And thanks! Rest coming soon!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-03 09:56 pm (UTC)