Drop The Pilot - SGA
Title: Drop the pilot
Author: Spookywanluke
Spoilers: All over the spectrum.
Summary: A collection of drabbles from Atlantis.
Beta: Pommygirl, otherwise known as Emily
Word Count: 734!!
A/N: I'm using the belief of 'However your conscious lets you call a story, count it'. I'll provide a proper single idea 300 word story later this month.
The title for each section is the next instalment from the song 'drop the pilot'. Each segment is only loosely based on said title and is from one character's POV. Spoilers are all over the place due to me one minute ignoring season 4 then the next lamenting it.

Drop the pilot (Try my balloon)

There were times when she wondered why she ever chose the wayward haired, tall military pilot for the mission. She'd impulsively made the offer before she'd even read his file, though over the last two years of frustration, worry and not-so-occasional sore throat where she has had to think twice about her rash decision, it still seemed right. Then again, there are times like now: with him at her shoulder supporting her every call that she wouldn't have him anywhere else.


Drop the monkey (Try my perfume)

During the first month of Atlanitis, she missed Earth. The comforts of a large bed; the presence of her dog; familiarity of the constellations above her head, even if she could only name one of them; the prim and proper ways of her friends; even the knowledge of who and what the enemies are.
As months went on, the less she missed Earth. Work and the threat of death imminent make people learn the ways of a new galaxy so much so that life back on Earth may have ceased to exist. When time came to visit Earth, she was afraid that she'd never be allowed back to once again listen to the gentle swell of the ocean out the window; of not living on adrenaline most days then absolute boredom the next; of not seeing the constellations above Atlantis named between John and Teyla; of not having Rodney and Zelenka argue the latest scientific breakthrough or Ronon's quiet presence, or the feeling of Carson watching every time she went into the infirmary. These were her life now. Her family. Her home. (These things now made the composition of her life. replacing her family, evolving as her home.)


Drop the mahout (I'm the easy rider)

His looks have always been his downfall.
Tied in with his tousled hair, a raw smirk and a flirty streak a mile wide, it insured wherever he went he never lacked for attention. That's why he loved Antarctica – the snow wouldn't warm to his smile, the wind wouldn't stop with a flirt, where he could be himself with no airs, no masks.
Once in the Pegasus galaxy, he found it was no different than Earth. Sure there was a new enemy, more danger, but he still could get the girl with a raise of an eyebrow, a flirt of the lips, and he could still leave them. Though Rodney would beg to differ, he could no longer find enjoyment in the chase. Ronon understood why and Teyla may have deduced the reason why. He has no care for flings when he has a true family, deep friends and one who trusts and believes in him explicitly. Once his looks were his downfall, now they are a beginning.


Don't use your army (To fight a losing battle)

Watching these adventurers from Earth, I can see why Ronon seems to have found a home – No one asks for help, thinking not to burden anyone else. In a military situation John will choose to take the impossible mission, the tough decision on his own, not thinking to ask anyone else to do it. Rodney is king of the science domain; everything that has to be done is done by him. It's not just his ego, it's not that there's no one else capable, it's just that no-one should take up the slack of the limitations of being a single person. Even Weir, our diplomat and commander, forced by her position to delegate, still drinks too much stimulant, works long hours and tries to do more than humanly possible for everyone under her command.
While this is not an unique species trait, it is rare and highly prize and something that has not been fully trained out of Ronon in his years as a runner. One that I have found has not been lost to me either.

Comments and encouragement welcome, flames are used to fuel my Viper.