fic: Writer's Block

[seekergeek.livejournal.com]

title: Writer's Block
author: seekergeek
pairings: John/Rodney, Teyla/Ronon, John/Team?(he's not sure and neither am I)
genre: humor
rating: R-ish to be on the safe side
disclaimer: SGA owned by someone who isn't me. No profit made here.
summary: John gets writer's block after missions like this.
notes: Unbeta'd. Please inform me of any egregious errors.

John wet his lips and stared at the laptop screen. He hated doing mission reports. It wasn't the writing itself so much as it was...how to write it. He frowned at the screen. Dr. Weir expected this report in her email tomorrow morning and he'd put it off as long as he could already. Wetting his lips again, he placed his fingers on the keyboard and began.

The villagers voiced an interest in trading with us and were very welcoming.

John grimaced as he remembered the mocking he got from Rodney over those three girls offering to personally bathe him. He hadn't led them on. Honestly. These things just...happened.

We were invited to stay for dinner after negotiations with Teyla were concluded.

Where they were not told how the village sealed trade deals until after they'd drunk their ritual cups of what turned out to be the local aphrodisiac. A rather potent aphrodisiac.

The team had an unexpected reaction to the local ritual drink.

Rodney grabbed his ass. Teyla and Ronon had wrestled each other onto the dinner table and...John scrubbed his face to try and erase the visual.  What he'd done to Rodney didn't even bear thinking about. Three days later Rodney was still fingering the bruises and looking at him speculatively from across the mess hall. Oh jeez.

Fortunately the reaction was short-lived and everyone had recovered by morning.

And wasn't that an awkward morning after, waking up in a nude puppy pile with all his teammates. Ronon still kept grinning at him ferally. He wasn't sure if he should wish he could remember why or not.

After participating in a brief friendship ritual the villagers gave us 20 bags of grain as a good will gesture upon our departure. 

And a basket of sex toys. As a wedding present after marrying John to Rodney. They'd been rather insistant on that.  At spearpoint, even. They'd intimated that John needed to settle down and stop cheating on his loved one.  Damn Rodney's snotty remarks about the three bath obsessed girls.

John reread his report and sighed. His eyes slid over to his backpack where he'd stuffed those damned sex toys he had to take in order to get off that fucking planet. Dr. Weir was no dummy.  She'd seen enough of these to know he was covering up something. He deleted the report and started over. He really needed a better euphemism dictionary.

Comments

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Dr. Weir was no dummy. She'd seen enough of these to know he was covering up something. He deleted the report and started over. He really needed a better euphemism dictionary.

This was the best part. Yeah, he'd have to work on that one. *smirks* Also-- nude puppy pile!

Icarus

[seekergeek.livejournal.com]

Everyone who goes through the stargate should really invest in a really good euphemism dictionary. *grins* A nude puppy pile is always a good thing in my book!

Glad you liked!