The Heir of Blackwood by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ruby2andor (Harlequin Challenge)
Aug. 28th, 2005 11:48 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ruby2andor.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficNo pairings.
McKay, Beckett and Cadman appear.
Rated: G
David, Marquis of Blackwood, tugged briefly at the too-tight cravat around his neck, wiped the sweat off his brow with a flick of his ruffled sleeve, cleared his throat uncertainly and began again.
“Lady... uhhh...uhhh...” He found that his mind was suddenly a blank. In his panic, he could feel the sweat flowing down his back with renewed vigor and pooling just above the waistband of his briefs.
“It’s ‘Lady Nicola’, Rodney,” came the sharp and rather annoyed whisper from the direction of the audience.
“Lady Nicola,” said the Marquis in a relieved voice. He rushed on. “Lady Nicola, as you know, I need an heir and well, you seem to fit the bill. I’m mean, you’re older and rich and I don’t know anything bad about you and...”
“Cut! Stop! Enough!” exclaimed Dr. Carson Beckett, holding up his arms in his seat in the empty theater. He sighed, got up and walked slowly towards the stage. Rodney McKay half-noticed that he was walking gingerly, as if he was full of something and was trying to hold it in.
Carson looked up at Rodney on the stage, and then looked down. He did that a few more times before he finally spoke.
“Rodney,” he said, in a voice full of what might have been sadness. “It’s a play. It’s just a bit of fun. And it’s something that you do slowly and deliberately, so the audience can follow the story. In that sense, it’s not like sex, alright?”
Despite his sweat-drenched state, Rodney bristled at that insult.
“I’ll have you know that I’m pretty good at sex,” he declared.
The two men stared at each other. Then Rodney cast down his eyes.
“Okay, well...but I definitely know the difference between sex and a play,” he said, relieved to be on firmer ground now. “You constipated quack,” he added, just for good measure, under his breath.
Lt. Laura Cadman (otherwise known as Lady Nicola) heard that sotto voce comment and sighed. Although Rodney and Carson were good friends, such a comment should not be allowed to pass. Taking her parasol, she whapped Rodney hard across his middle with it, taking a certain perverse satisfaction in his surprised gasp.
“Get with it, Rodney,” she snapped. “I’m not staying in this corset for one instant longer than I have to, understand? This is supposed to be a fun event, for the benefit of the troops, not some Broadway production. Just say the lines, okay? Or can’t you remember them, Dr. ‘I’ve-Got-a-Brain-the-Size-of-the-Universe?’”
Rodney started to huff and puff, a sure sign of impending outrage. “Look who’s talking Lt. ‘I-Carry-My-Brain-Inside-My-Gun,’” he countered. “And I can’t help it if I’m a little nervous. I’m a scientist, not a buffoon.”
Laura rolled her eyes. She felt her annoyance level rising sharply as the corset squeezed her breakfast towards the back of her throat.
“I’ve got news for you, Dr. McKay,” she began.
At that moment, the red alert blared over the intercom.
“McKay, Beckett to the Gateroom,” came the announcement.
Laura stood with one hand still on her hip as she watched them sprint out of the room. She realized that Rodney was totally oblivious to the fact that he still had his costume on.
Heh-heh, she thought.
McKay, Beckett and Cadman appear.
Rated: G
David, Marquis of Blackwood, tugged briefly at the too-tight cravat around his neck, wiped the sweat off his brow with a flick of his ruffled sleeve, cleared his throat uncertainly and began again.
“Lady... uhhh...uhhh...” He found that his mind was suddenly a blank. In his panic, he could feel the sweat flowing down his back with renewed vigor and pooling just above the waistband of his briefs.
“It’s ‘Lady Nicola’, Rodney,” came the sharp and rather annoyed whisper from the direction of the audience.
“Lady Nicola,” said the Marquis in a relieved voice. He rushed on. “Lady Nicola, as you know, I need an heir and well, you seem to fit the bill. I’m mean, you’re older and rich and I don’t know anything bad about you and...”
“Cut! Stop! Enough!” exclaimed Dr. Carson Beckett, holding up his arms in his seat in the empty theater. He sighed, got up and walked slowly towards the stage. Rodney McKay half-noticed that he was walking gingerly, as if he was full of something and was trying to hold it in.
Carson looked up at Rodney on the stage, and then looked down. He did that a few more times before he finally spoke.
“Rodney,” he said, in a voice full of what might have been sadness. “It’s a play. It’s just a bit of fun. And it’s something that you do slowly and deliberately, so the audience can follow the story. In that sense, it’s not like sex, alright?”
Despite his sweat-drenched state, Rodney bristled at that insult.
“I’ll have you know that I’m pretty good at sex,” he declared.
The two men stared at each other. Then Rodney cast down his eyes.
“Okay, well...but I definitely know the difference between sex and a play,” he said, relieved to be on firmer ground now. “You constipated quack,” he added, just for good measure, under his breath.
Lt. Laura Cadman (otherwise known as Lady Nicola) heard that sotto voce comment and sighed. Although Rodney and Carson were good friends, such a comment should not be allowed to pass. Taking her parasol, she whapped Rodney hard across his middle with it, taking a certain perverse satisfaction in his surprised gasp.
“Get with it, Rodney,” she snapped. “I’m not staying in this corset for one instant longer than I have to, understand? This is supposed to be a fun event, for the benefit of the troops, not some Broadway production. Just say the lines, okay? Or can’t you remember them, Dr. ‘I’ve-Got-a-Brain-the-Size-of-the-Universe?’”
Rodney started to huff and puff, a sure sign of impending outrage. “Look who’s talking Lt. ‘I-Carry-My-Brain-Inside-My-Gun,’” he countered. “And I can’t help it if I’m a little nervous. I’m a scientist, not a buffoon.”
Laura rolled her eyes. She felt her annoyance level rising sharply as the corset squeezed her breakfast towards the back of her throat.
“I’ve got news for you, Dr. McKay,” she began.
At that moment, the red alert blared over the intercom.
“McKay, Beckett to the Gateroom,” came the announcement.
Laura stood with one hand still on her hip as she watched them sprint out of the room. She realized that Rodney was totally oblivious to the fact that he still had his costume on.
Heh-heh, she thought.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-28 08:04 pm (UTC)cute
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-28 09:45 pm (UTC)