sga_flashfic | Orbital Conjunction, by kageygirl, for the Voyeurism challenge

kageygirl.livejournal.com posting in

Title: Orbital Conjunction
Author:

kageygirl
Rating: G
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Spoilers: small for "Hide and Seek", tiny for "Suspicion" and "Childhood's End"
Summary: Rodney glanced up to see Sheppard giving him a wry smile. "No crashing today, thanks. It's more fun when you don't."

Thanks be to

maching_monkey for beta-spanking and

wickdzoot for hand-holding.

Orbital Conjunction

Rodney had noticed Sheppard's hands before, in passing, the way that he noticed a lot of things without really noting them, unless they were foreseeably useful or relevant. The way the major handled a P90, for example, was representative of his calm competence under fire, which Rodney found far more reassuring at times than he would ever admit.

But Rodney had never really had a chance to just watch Sheppard interacting with Ancient technology in the past. Back in Antarctica, with the control chair, Rodney had always been more focused on energy readouts and command pathways whenever he'd been able to convince Sheppard to power the chair up. And when Sheppard flew a Puddle Jumper, Rodney was usually seated behind him, running scans, not here in the copilot's seat.

This trip had been Rodney's idea: take a Jumper up through their newly discovered Jumper bay roof hatch into low orbit, and run some active systems analyses of the kind they had neither the time nor the luxury for while approaching a potentially hostile planet. Major Sheppard had been more than willing to find out what the Jumpers could do, not just according to the Ancient database specs but in practical terms--well, if "more than willing" implied "strongly resembled a kid in a candy store." Despite the disturbing intensity of the major's enthusiasm, Elizabeth had agreed with both of them.

There was no way Rodney could have known, at the time, exactly how difficult it would be to watch Sheppard fly the Jumper when Rodney had no imminent threats with which to concern himself.

He'd started paying attention to Sheppard's hands during this flight out of idle curiosity--trying to get some insight into the man-machine interface, to figure out how much of what Sheppard did was manual control and how much was the Jumper responding to Sheppard's thoughts. And now Rodney was paying for that curiosity, as happened with alarming frequency in the Pegasus Galaxy.

At least he was fairly sure this wouldn't actually turn out to be a fatal mistake. He tried and failed to turn his gaze to the deepening twilight of the sky outside, away from Sheppard, and felt the heat rising in his face.

Sheppard's control of the ship was... intimate. Instinctual and fluid and languidly graceful, like a big game cat on the hunt. Rodney was getting a guilty, uncomfortable thrill from watching Sheppard fly, and it felt wrong to keep sneaking glances over at him, but Rodney couldn't make himself stop.

There wasn't even anything he could point to, anything that would convince him that Sheppard was doing it on purpose, trying to throw Rodney off balance, and thus make either ignoring him or calling him on it the right decision. Sheppard wasn't fondling the control sticks or caressing the instrument panel or anything so crass.

He was just... flying.

Sheppard wasn't even smiling, really, but there was a lightness to his expression, in his carelessly controlled, economical gestures. And the Jumper responded so naturally, so--organically to Sheppard, that Rodney felt like he was intruding on something private and personal.

Rodney drew in a sharp breath and shifted in his seat, trying to shake himself out of his pointless reverie, and Sheppard looked over at him, forehead creased in concern. "Everything all right?"

It was on the tip of Rodney's tongue to snap something out and deflect Sheppard's attention, but he suppressed the urge and made a show of concentrating on his own instrument panel instead. "Fine, fine, everything's--fine. I'm good."

"Good," Sheppard said brightly, clearly humoring him, but in his peripheral vision, Rodney could see Sheppard still facing him. He waited until he caught movement and the dark blur as Sheppard looked away before raising his own head.

As irritating as Sheppard could be, Rodney truly couldn't blame the major for the fact that Rodney had developed a brand-new fascination for watching his hands.

For that matter, he shouldn't be thinking about tongue-tips, either, but Sheppard kept licking his bottom lip, and that mental digression couldn't possibly be Rodney's fault.

Sheppard glanced over again and caught Rodney staring at him--again--as they cleared the thermosphere. Rodney waited for him to say something about it, but Sheppard made him wait while he put the Jumper into a geosynchronous orbit before turning his way.

The look on Sheppard's face was more speculative than anything else, and Rodney clung to the faint hope that Sheppard had somehow missed Rodney's preoccupation. Which had possibly escalated into "fixation."

"You know, McKay, I've been thinking..." Sheppard tapped his fingers against the edge of the DHD console, and Rodney really needed to not focus on that. "It's probably not a bad idea to have a back-up pilot on our team. In case something happens and I'm out of commission, you guys won't be trapped or anything."

Oh, good, good--something different to think about. "You mean, like--" Rodney started to gesture toward his own neck, and Sheppard cut him off with a narrow-eyed glare.

"--Like the thing we're never talking about again, yes." Sheppard grimaced, then ducked his head, and the look of distaste faded away.

"Who were you thinking of adding--Markham? Miller?" Rodney frowned as he tried to remember what he knew about their other pilots. None of them were as good as Sheppard, of course, but maybe that meant Rodney wouldn't get so distracted by watching them fly.

He realized Sheppard was shaking his head, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. "Not quite who I had in mind." Leaning forward, Sheppard nodded at Rodney. "Now that you've got the gene, too..."

"Me?" Rodney blinked, but Sheppard seemed entirely serious. "I don't..." He shook his head. "I don't have any aptitude for that kind of thing, Major." And he didn't--entirely apart from the fact that his ability to control gene-activated technology was nothing like Sheppard's, the way the Jumpers flew--the way Sheppard flew a Jumper--seemed much less like science and more like art. Rodney would only end up overthinking it again, missing the point.

But Sheppard smiled at him, confident and sincere. "Sorry, McKay--I just don't buy that. I've seen you make too many alien devices sit up and beg." He straightened and rolled his shoulders back, stretching. "I'm sure I can teach you."

Raising his eyebrows, Sheppard stood up and made an "after you" gesture at the pilot's console.

Rodney just stared at him, a little stupidly. "What--you mean, right now?"

"No time like the present." Sheppard gave him a shrug. "Those systems checks might go quicker once you've flown the Jumper yourself, and there's a lot less chance of you running into anything up here. Come on." Sheppard tipped his head towards the viewport. "Just be sure to aim the nose away from the planet."

"Oh, and here I was thinking a fiery crash was the perfect way to go out," Rodney said, but his mouth was dry because he was standing up and oh god, what was he doing? He'd never be as good at this as Sheppard was, but he was sitting at the pilot's console, gingerly, not touching anything until he had explicit instructions, because, no, burning death by crashed spaceship wasn't really anything he'd been looking forward to. Or even waterlogged drowning death, which seemed much more likely, given the land-to-water ratio, and--

Sheppard waved a hand in front of his face, and Rodney took a deep breath. He stared resolutely at the console and tried not to feel like an interloper.

"Hey," Sheppard said, and Rodney glanced up to see Sheppard giving him a wry smile. "No crashing today, thanks. It's more fun when you don't."

Fun. Yes. Of course. He'd be fine. After all, there were a lot of pilots back on Earth, and there couldn't be many who were remotely as intelligent as Rodney, so this would be fine.

He thought Sheppard would take the copilot's seat, but Sheppard parked himself against the edge of the DHD console, nudging Rodney's leg with his own.

Rodney looked up at him, and Sheppard nodded to himself, as if he'd confirmed something. Sheppard's eyes shone, and that lightness was back in his face, but this time, all he was doing was watching Rodney. "Don't worry," he said, tilting his head to the side as he met Rodney's gaze. "We'll go slow."

"I'm not worried," Rodney said, and it wasn't entirely a lie, because with Sheppard standing right there, he was starting to relax a little. Which made absolutely no sense, because he generally hated to be hovered over.

Sheppard reached out and brushed his fingers over Rodney's shoulder, and that seemed to settle his nerves, to give him permission to do this. Rodney recognized the irony in that, since Sheppard's hands had been so disquieting earlier. In a voice that was somehow both subdued and teasing, Sheppard said, "I think you're going to like flying, McKay."

A quick grin flashed over Sheppard's face, warm, boyish, and it reminded Rodney of getting himself pushed off a balcony, of getting invited to watch a football game in return.

Of what it was like to share something important with someone else, hoping they ended up liking it just as much.

"I'm sure I will, Major," Rodney said, smiling briefly in return. Sheppard squeezed his shoulder, a strong, steady pressure, then started going over the controls for Rodney.

Who still wasn't entirely convinced that this was a good idea, but he could do this, for the good of the team. He wanted to do this, for the good of the team.

That it made Sheppard's eyes light up like that was just a fortunate coincidence.

And that Sheppard left his hand on Rodney's shoulder as he leaned in to point at the console was probably nothing more than an oversight.

Current Mood: good
Current Music: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, "Learning to Fly"

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From:

sarren.livejournal.com

Oh. Nice. Very nice.

*scowls* What's with ending it there though?

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