Title: Gravity, Lift, and Air Resistance
Fandom: SGA/Numb3rs
Pairing: pre-John/Rodney
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Word count: ~500
Note: Third story in the "Dots & Lines" verse. Chronologically many years in the past. It is a wee!Shep&Eppes tale. Because you know John was a troublemaker as a child. And I wanted to write something short and fluffy. Some of this is based on fact. I've messed around with the ages shamelessly to fit some twisted timeline. Just go with it.
Summary: Johnny and Donny play. Charlie tries to teach them a lesson, but it backfires.
They were both eight. John had only been for a week and Don only had a month and a half until he was nine. But, at the moment, they were the same age.
John said that that was something special. They were only the same age for a while, and many times his visits did not line up right. Because this was special, John had decided, they would do something cool. Don just groans and shakes his head. The last time John had done something cool was the time he had tried to ride his bike without his hands. Or feet. Adding to that that he had only learned to ride a bike six months earlier- well, it had not been a pretty picture.
John told his mother later that he had flown off the bike. Don wanted to agree- he almost did fly. It was the landing and the sliding that did a number on him. Charlie, who had listened while John was getting his face cleaned at the kitchen, piped up with his soft voice. He told tales of lift and gravity and other things that other six year-olds didn't understand, but Charlie did. Don did not even understand, and he was older.
Except, Johnny nodded his head as much as his mother would allow and listened rapturously. He asked questions about jets and received answers about air resistance. Don knew that John couldn't understand his brother. Both of them had been wondering yesterday why the sky was the same color everywhere although the dirt was different where ever you went. Charlie probably knew.
That was brushed aside. John only had eyes for Charlie and his facts. He did droop when Charlie concluded that he had not actually flown, but, maybe, just glided a bit. Before falling- dropping and sliding on his face.
So, the word 'cool' said that was only meant bad things for Don. It mean blood and gravel and sitting next to Aunt Ann at the table and feeling guilty. Don looked out for Charlie, so why could he not for John? But John only said he wanted to go to the park, and Don thought that was reasonable. He did not know what could be cool there, but it couldn't be too bad. There were soft wood chips and sand under everything. The monkey bars were even lower than the ones at his school.
John went for the swings. Don was on his heals, but John just sat on one for a moment. Then he began to swing, pumping his legs earnestly. Don had always been good at swinging, but Johnny was even better. It did not take long before he was going so high and fast that the angle looked like it would drop him off the seat. He just kept smiling. It almost looked as if he was laughing. Don dragged his toes through the sand, slowing himself down.
There was only a moment to process what was going to happen. Don could see it clearly. Then John looked down at him and yelled "Lift!" before pushing up, out of the swing.
Later it was Don that said John flew. He said it over and over while he half carried the limping boy home. John's eyes smiled even when a careless step jarred his foot.
End note: Yes, I did try to ride my bike with both no feet or hands. It ended the same way as in the story, only I was a bit older and it was very embarassing. When you do something that spectacularlly stupid people will actually stop their cars to see if you are alright. And then you convince them that, yes- you are fine, the dozens of rocks in your bleeding face hardly hurt at all, and continue to the movie store with your brother where you horrify the clerk enough that you decided you should probably wash your face before heading home. It also somehow caused me to play the baritone for half of fifth grade. Bike accidents and tuba playing rarely go hand in hand, except with me, it seems.
Next story will follow the vein of the first two. Though, I'm not sure if it will be more Numb3rs of SGA POV. I want to do both, really. I mean, this whole thing is in the SGA catagory and I consider it that mostly, it just can't help from writing outsider POV. Maybe it's a kink or something. Or I just really like to write others listening to McShep snark.