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sga_flashficTitle: Beans, Feathers and Tongues
Rating: PG for the word "naked" and a d-bomb or two.
Pairing: John/Rodney, more or less.
Word Count: 588
Summary: Um... beans, feathers and tongues? It's silly?
A/N: Written by request for anandabrat. Fits the food part of buildings and food.
“I’m not giving them back!” Rodney said shrilly.
“Just... put them down, McKay,” John said, staring at the aliens, his hand only half an inch from the handle of his gun.
“No! I need these, the—the advancement of science, this is terribly important to the future success of the entire mission—”
“McKay,” John growled. “I don’t care how much these beans look like caocao, put the damn things down.”
“Chocolate!” Rodney whimpered.
The leader of the aliens stepped forward. “I see our harvest is important to you,” he said in his nasal voice. “Although its theft rightfully enraged us, we would still be willing to consider trade.”
“We are grateful for your willingness to forgive,” Teyla said, glaring at Rodney.
“We will, of course, expect something a little out of the ordinary.” The leader couldn’t technically smile, but he definitely looked smirkier than he had a moment before. “We require the thief to participate in our harvest ritual.”
“Right, well, harvest ritual, I can probably do that, I mean, what—what do I have to do?” Rodney’s face paled a little.
“You will honor our harvest by your compliance,” the leader proclaimed. “And since you are all flat-mouths, he—” He jerked his head at John. “—will be the Imbiber.”
“Oh, come on—” John winced, but stopped at a glare from Teyla. “Right, fine, we’ll do everything we can to make up for Rodney’s horrible transgression.”
“Ow!” Rodney said. “That was my foot!”
*
“Oh my god this is not fair,” Rodney moaned. His eyes were shut tight. “This is the least fair thing of everything in this completely unfair galaxy.”
“It’s not that bad,” John said.
“Excuse me, who is tied down here?” Rodney demanded. “I can’t even—it’s all over me except the one place where I want it! It’s torture—ah, stop, not there, that tickles!”
“Sorry,” John said, and leaned down for another lick.
“What about ‘stop’ did you—ack ack ack what was I saying about torture—”
“Rodney, you’ve got chocolate all over your stomach. I’ve got to get it off somehow, and what can I say—my hands are tied.”
“Very funny, Colonel. Poor, poor you, your arms are tied behind your back and you have to eat chocolate. I am naked, and tied down, and there are aliens looking at me and you’re tickling me and I can’t have any chocolate!”
“I’m just helping the aliens out, Rodney. Stop squirming,” John said piously, and licked a long swath up Rodney’s arm. “They haven’t been able to do this ceremony since the last time they had guests. Whatever they called us. Flat-mouths.” He licked again, thoughtfully. “Look on the bright side. This would be a lot worse if they were trying to get this chocolate off you with their beaks.”
“Oh god, that’s a horrible thought. Mental image. Bad.”
“All those little beaks, pecking you. All those little wings, and clawed toes, and—stop squirming, Rodney.”
“Just thinking about all those feathers makes me want to sneeze!” Rodney snapped.
“It’s your own damn fault, you know,” John said, and got in a particularly sharp tongue jab to the ribs.
“You are so mean to me,” Rodney moaned, but held still. “This chocolate had better be worth it. I hate this planet. I hate the aliens. Why won’t they stop quacking?”
John raised his head and glared.
“Oh, forget it.” Rodney looked away and scowled. “But we’re sending some other team back here to trade next time.”
“Sounds ducky to me,” said John.
Rating: PG for the word "naked" and a d-bomb or two.
Pairing: John/Rodney, more or less.
Word Count: 588
Summary: Um... beans, feathers and tongues? It's silly?
A/N: Written by request for anandabrat. Fits the food part of buildings and food.
“I’m not giving them back!” Rodney said shrilly.
“Just... put them down, McKay,” John said, staring at the aliens, his hand only half an inch from the handle of his gun.
“No! I need these, the—the advancement of science, this is terribly important to the future success of the entire mission—”
“McKay,” John growled. “I don’t care how much these beans look like caocao, put the damn things down.”
“Chocolate!” Rodney whimpered.
The leader of the aliens stepped forward. “I see our harvest is important to you,” he said in his nasal voice. “Although its theft rightfully enraged us, we would still be willing to consider trade.”
“We are grateful for your willingness to forgive,” Teyla said, glaring at Rodney.
“We will, of course, expect something a little out of the ordinary.” The leader couldn’t technically smile, but he definitely looked smirkier than he had a moment before. “We require the thief to participate in our harvest ritual.”
“Right, well, harvest ritual, I can probably do that, I mean, what—what do I have to do?” Rodney’s face paled a little.
“You will honor our harvest by your compliance,” the leader proclaimed. “And since you are all flat-mouths, he—” He jerked his head at John. “—will be the Imbiber.”
“Oh, come on—” John winced, but stopped at a glare from Teyla. “Right, fine, we’ll do everything we can to make up for Rodney’s horrible transgression.”
“Ow!” Rodney said. “That was my foot!”
*
“Oh my god this is not fair,” Rodney moaned. His eyes were shut tight. “This is the least fair thing of everything in this completely unfair galaxy.”
“It’s not that bad,” John said.
“Excuse me, who is tied down here?” Rodney demanded. “I can’t even—it’s all over me except the one place where I want it! It’s torture—ah, stop, not there, that tickles!”
“Sorry,” John said, and leaned down for another lick.
“What about ‘stop’ did you—ack ack ack what was I saying about torture—”
“Rodney, you’ve got chocolate all over your stomach. I’ve got to get it off somehow, and what can I say—my hands are tied.”
“Very funny, Colonel. Poor, poor you, your arms are tied behind your back and you have to eat chocolate. I am naked, and tied down, and there are aliens looking at me and you’re tickling me and I can’t have any chocolate!”
“I’m just helping the aliens out, Rodney. Stop squirming,” John said piously, and licked a long swath up Rodney’s arm. “They haven’t been able to do this ceremony since the last time they had guests. Whatever they called us. Flat-mouths.” He licked again, thoughtfully. “Look on the bright side. This would be a lot worse if they were trying to get this chocolate off you with their beaks.”
“Oh god, that’s a horrible thought. Mental image. Bad.”
“All those little beaks, pecking you. All those little wings, and clawed toes, and—stop squirming, Rodney.”
“Just thinking about all those feathers makes me want to sneeze!” Rodney snapped.
“It’s your own damn fault, you know,” John said, and got in a particularly sharp tongue jab to the ribs.
“You are so mean to me,” Rodney moaned, but held still. “This chocolate had better be worth it. I hate this planet. I hate the aliens. Why won’t they stop quacking?”
John raised his head and glared.
“Oh, forget it.” Rodney looked away and scowled. “But we’re sending some other team back here to trade next time.”
“Sounds ducky to me,” said John.