sga_flashfic | Trick or Treat (Reply)

Title: Trick or Treat
Author: Ras Elased
Rating: Pathetically G
Word Count: 2700
Pairings: Gen.
Spoilers: Little one for M&MM
Summary: John just smirked and raised one eyebrow, an impressive feat for a ten year old. He'd perfected the look primarily because he found it drove Ms. Weir crazy. "Well, it's either me or the munchkins."
A/N: Halloween AU...and mild crack. I'm apparently shite at deadlines, so it's not beta'd. If you spot something, let me know in the comments and I'll gladly change it. :)

John ducked behind some foliage for cover, hastily drawing his weapon. It was hard to see in the fading twilight, but he sighted along his barrel, looking for potential targets. Fleetingly, he wondered what was taking Teyla and Ronon so long. They'd split up to cover more ground, but now John was regretting that decision.

John took aim at a particularly nasty creature, but just as he was about to fire, there was a flurry of activity behind him.

"Trick or treat!" several children shouted cheerfully.

Distracted, John lowered the orange tip of his plastic gun. Pretending to be a soldier just wasn't as much fun without Ronon and Teyla around. They'd decided to go on ahead while their parents "got caught up," talking about whatever it was adults talked about. John's ten-year-old mind couldn't imagine what could be so important that it overruled free candy.

Stepping out from behind the hedge, John caught sight of movement in the dark alley between two houses. Upon closer inspection, he spotted some tall kid in a weird gothic space suit holding up a smaller kid dressed as Superman. Curious, he drew closer, and was soon able to make out voices.

"Maybe I should just pound your face in, dweeb!"

"Listen, just because your obvious lack of intelligence extends to a lack of creativity, it doesn't mean you need to resort to violence!" Superman's voice was shaky, but sharp.

"He's got a point there, Steve," John said, recognizing the larger boy as the neighborhood bully.

Steve turned and gave John a surprised look, but Superman spoke up first. "Oh, thank god! A little help here?" he motioned wildly with the one hand that wasn't pinned.

The boy's demanding tone had John crossing his arms as he regarded the caped crusader with a raised eyebrow. "What, you can't handle it yourself? I thought you were supposed to be the Man of Steel!" he smirked.

The boy managed to give John an incredibly condescending blue-eyed glare, unhindered by the fact that he was still being held against the wall by Steve’s hulking fist. "Are you kidding me? Does it look like I can handle it?" He made a grand all-encompassing gesture with his free hand, then snapped, "If you and Darth Stupid here are the products of the American education system, your country is doomed."

John just rolled his eyes, then turned to address the taller boy, who was still staring at John, perplexed. "Leave him alone, Steve," he ordered.

His tone snapped Steve out of his befuddlement. He grinned at John in a way that John thought was meant to be threatening, but it just looked really silly with the plastic fangs in his mouth. "What are you going to do if I don't, Sheppard?" Steve's words slurred over the fangs awkwardly. "Shoot me with your fake gun?"

"No," John said easily, "But I will tell your mom. And trust me, she's a lot scarier than you are." John pointed to where Steve's mother was talking to John's uncle, vibrant red hair making her hard to miss.

Steve gulped audibly. He slowly released Superman, but gave John a fierce look. "I'll see you on the playground, tattle-tell."

"Looking forward to it," he called jauntily. As Steve stomped off, John took in the ridiculous outfit and couldn't resist one last jibe. "What are you supposed to be, anyway?"

Flipping back the long white hair of his wig, Steve sniffed, "Space vampire."

John snorted at Steve's back as he walked away, then turned back to the red-faced Superman. "Sorry about that. He does this every year. He thinks the whole world is his personal food source, or something."

"Well, at least now I know who to avoid on the playground." Superman said from the grass, collecting the candy that had spilled during Steve's shake down. John thought it might be better not to mention Steve's twelve siblings who tended to terrorize the younger students during recess.

There was a pause in which John remained standing, hands proudly on his hips, waiting expectantly for Superman to thank him. "If you're just going to stand there, you can at least make yourself useful."

John peered at the kid in amazement, but bent to help him nonetheless. He could see why Steve had targeted him. He was rude and arrogant, not to mention ungrateful. Plus, from what John could tell, he had a pretty impressive candy haul given it was only twilight.

John dumped a few handfuls of candy into Superman's bag, then said, "Um, I'm John. I live in the yellow house two blocks down."

The boy peered at him suspiciously before answering. "Rodney," he grunted, still collecting candy from the grass.

Undaunted, John continued, "Did you just move here? I haven't seen you in Ms. Weir’s class."

"That's because I'm not in Ms. Weir’s class, I'm in Ms. Carter’s class."

"But…Ms. Carter teaches sixth grade! How old are you?"

Shoving the last handful of candy into his bag, Rodney stood to his full height, lifting his chin defiantly and, perhaps, a bit smugly. "I'm nine. I've skipped two grades already, and I'll probably skip another one next year."

John gaped at him, mildly bemused. School had always come easy to John, but he learned quickly that a slew of A's didn't earn him any friends. John had always worked hard to maintain a B average, and when he got really ambitious, he could even wrangle a C or two. And here was Rodney, thriving on the fact that he was making himself a social martyr. "Huh."

Rodney looked a little put out that John wasn't more daunted by his brilliance. "Yes, well...I'm apparently the only person within a fifteen mile radius whose IQ is larger than his shoe size. They offered me the chance to move up to the junior high, but the work they're doing in sixth grade is just challenging enough not to be boring, so I'll probably stick with it for the rest of the year."

John didn't say it, but he thought that maybe Rodney's desire to stick with sixth grade had less to do with advanced math assignments and had more to do with the fact that Ms. Carter was very pretty...for a teacher, anyways. There was an awkward pause, then John said, "So...Superman, huh?"

Rodney was immediately on the defensive, but it seemed to lack the bite from before. "At least it's more original than you, G.I. Joe."

John picked at his camouflage jacket. "Yeah, well, this wasn't my first choice." With a ridiculous grin, he added, "I wanted to be Captain Kirk, but my dad wouldn’t let me."

Rodney just stared. "Wow...that's about the geekiest--"

"MEREDITH!" A tiny fairy princess ran up to Rodney and clutched him around the middle. "I thought that mean boy got you!"

"Meredith?" John mumbled to himself.

"Jeannie! I told you never to call me that!" Rodney hissed, then tried to extricate himself from the little girl's grasp. "Don't you remember what I said would happen the next time you called me that in public?"

Jeannie immediately released Rodney, giving him a harsh shove backwards. "Don't you dare shoot my Barbies into space! I'll tell Mom!"

John gave a loud snort, then morphed his face into his best innocent expression, the one he usually used on Ms. Weir. When Rodney just glared, John gave it up for lost. That look never worked on Ms. Weir, either.

“Fine! Okay!” Rodney yelled, still trying to fight off Jeannie, who was attempting to club him with her wand, pink streamers flying wildly. “I won’t shoot your Barbies into space if you just leave me alone!”

“But Mer!” she whined, “You promised! Mom and Dad said you had to come with us!” John looked to where Jeannie was pointing her wand, straight to a small group of girls all dressed in fairy princess outfits. No wonder the guy was in a bad mood, if he had to trick or treat with his sister’s brownie troop. “You can’t go by yourself! What if the mean boy gets you again!” She clutched once more around his middle, and John took pity on him.

“You can come trick or treat with me, if you want,” he offered.

Rodney regarded him with wounded pride. "I don't need a body guard!" he snapped hotly.

John just smirked and raised one eyebrow, an impressive feat for a ten year old. He’d perfected the look primarily because he found it drove Ms. Weir crazy. “Well, it’s either me or the munchkins.”

Rodney looked at the group of girls in horror and disgust, then turned back to face John. “Fine. Whatever. But we split the candy haul fifty-fifty and you can’t say anything stupid for at least the first hour.”

John slung his plastic gun over his shoulder and smiled. It sucked not having Ronon or Teyla around, but at least he wouldn't be alone. Besides, Rodney was kind of funny...in an annoying, arrogant, condescending way. “Deal.”

After Rodney had pried Jeannie from her death grip on his waist and sent her back to her friends with a warning that she “not tell Mom and Dad, ever, or else space flight will be too good for your Barbies,” he and John had set off on their own.

Once the managed to slip away from John's uncle--who was still stuck talking to Steve's terrifying mother--they made pretty good time. John listened quietly while Rodney talked nonstop about the imbeciles he was forced to deal with in his "advanced" math class, only pausing his diatribe to impatiently huff, "Yes yes, trick or treat," whenever the doors opened, holding his sack open expectantly to the baffled homeowner. He never failed to critique the candy selection either. "Oh my god, tootsie rolls and candy corn? Could you be any more of a cheapskate?" He'd actually tossed one lady's gift of a toothbrush back in her face with a scowl and a muttered, "Very funny. Now give me a Snickers."

John was pretty sure he should be hassling Rodney about the Halloween etiquette of "please" and "thank you," but he was having too much fun to care. He still laughed every time he pictured the look on the face of the unfortunate man who'd had the audacity to give Rodney lemon drops.

They had just finished their second block together when John heard someone calling his name. Turning, he spotted a very familiar pair of costumes coming towards him. At his side, Rodney said, "What the...Is that Conan and Xena? Do you know them?"

"Teyla! Ronon!" John called. "Where have you guys been?"

"I'm sorry, John. We were distracted by the haunted house Mrs. Gunderson set up in her garage." Teyla adjusted the large plastic sword at her back, then turned to Rodney with a friendly smile.

"Oh, right. Guys, this is Rodney. He's--"

"Oh my god," Rodney interrupted, staring at Ronon with wide eyes. "My body guard has a body guard!"

Ronon just grunted, but Teyla turned an inquisitive eye towards John. "Body guard?"

He waved off her curiosity with an eyeroll. "Long story. So, did you find anything good?"

Ronon whipped open his large sack, displaying an impressive array of candy, but it was Teyla who answered. "Mrs. Gunderson had the best candy, of course, but there were several houses Ronon and I found that would also be good choices."

"Choices for what?" Rodney asked.

John grinned. "Every year, Teyla, Ronon and I split up so we can scout out a bunch of houses, then we take each other back to the ones offering the best candy. Teyla's lived here the longest, so she usually points us in the right direction, and Ronon here does the heavy lifting."

Ronon grunted slightly at that, but hoisted John's nearly full sack alongside his own and Teyla's. When he reached out to grab Rodney's, the smaller boy snatched it back out of Ronon's (considerable) reach, clutching it to his chest. "Touch my candy and die."

Ronon didn't say anything, but he let his hand fall back to adjust the other bags as he hefted them over his shoulder. John noticed that he looked at Rodney with an undercurrent of approval, obviously appreciating a person with like-minded priorities.

They stuck together for the next hour or so, leading each other back to all the best houses, until it had been dark for some time. John probably should have been more surprised to find that Teyla and Ronon not only put up with Rodney, but they actually seemed to like him. His friends were cool like that.

They were just on their third trip back to Mrs. Gunderson's haunted house when Steve stepped out of the shadows, blocking their path on the sidewalk. He was flanked on either side by his brothers Bob and Michael, each of them smiling the way a predator might at its prey.

"Uh, hey, guys," John greeted cheerfully. "Not that we wouldn't love to join in the family reunion, but--"

"Cram it, Sheppard. Give us your candy, and we won't have to hurt the geek."

"Oh my god! Do you have rocks for brains?" Rodney sputtered. "There's free candy out there! People are giving it away! All you need is a bag and a few spare brain cells, and it's yours for the taking! Why do you need to take--"

"Change of plans, Sheppard," Steve interrupted, glaring at Rodney. "Hand over your candy, and the geek."

John glanced at Rodney, noticing the fear in his eyes. Turning back to Steve, he crossed his arms and said, "First of all, his name is Rodney. And second of all...no."

Steve gave him the same bewildered look he always got when John stood up to him. "Sheppard, I know that you're always the Dweeb Defender, but even you have got to be getting tired of this one. He's--"

"Annoying, and rude, and obnoxious, I know," John answered with an eyeroll. "Trust me, I know. Doesn't change the fact that he's my friend, so if you want him, you'll have to come through me first."

"And me," Teyla said, stepping forward.

"Me too," Ronon added.

John hazarded another glance at Rodney, who was staring at them all with a look of shell shock. Steve, however, just looked infuriated. He balled his fists at his sides and stepped forward. "Fine. It's your funeral."

John braced himself as Steve raised his fist above his head, then there was a flash of red as something swooped in between the two groups. John looked up to see the bright red hair of Steve's mother as she shrieked bloody murder at her clan, saying something about being grounded so long people would think they'd gone into hibernation. The boys looked so terrified of her that John had a brief moment of sympathy, but then it passed as he heard his uncle call out to him.

John's uncle bustled the small group away, talking the entire time about not wandering off and responsibility and trying to give him a heart attack. Rodney was oddly quiet, and John shot him a questioning look, but Rodney just went back to contemplating the sidewalk, strolling along in silence. The four of them were taken to Mrs. Gunderson's house, where John's uncle told them to sit on the steps while he tried to find Teyla and Ronon's parents. After several long moments, Rodney reached into his sack and pulled out a handful of candy, silently handing a few pieces each to Teyla and Ronon, and giving his largest Snickers bar to John. Rodney gave him an awkward smile, then said, "Thanks...for...you know, back there. I've never really had anyone who..."

John shrugged. "No big deal. You're one of us now, so don't worry about it." Rodney's smile brightened, and John found himself grinning back. He bit into his Snickers while Ronon and Teyla began trading their candy back and forth, and John couldn't resist adding, "Besides, you're Superman! You could've taken 'em."

Rodney just rolled his eyes, then mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate, "Despite what you may think, I'm not actually Superman."