Title: Things Not To Do on Earth
Author: tommygirl828 (at) gmail (dot) com
Crossposted: my livejournal, my website
A/N: Much love to carrie for the beta and to svmadelyn for running this year's under the mistletoe challenge. This is as close to schmoop as either Ronon or Sheppard seem capable of. Feedback always appreciated!
John Sheppard felt the familiar tug as he glanced out the window of his rental car and caught glimpses of his home town. There wasn't a lot holding him to Earth any more, but the attachment he maintained for where he grew up was something he knew would never go away. He'd always hear the voice in his head that told him he was home. He decided that was a good thing in regards to his job – what would he be fighting for if he no longer cared about where he came from?
Most of the inhabitants of Atlantis understood that sort of thinking, all having signed on for a mission that was thought to be a one-way ticket to a new world. But John was having trouble explaining the attachment to Earth to part of his team. Ronon and Teyla had no loyalty to Earth, no understanding of the place that they were fighting to protect along with the remainder of the Pegasus galaxy.
Teyla, at least, had seen John's version of Earth during that one particular escapade with the energy-entity. Ronon, however, had no idea of what Earth was aside from random comments made by the Atlantis crew.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. John had even managed to convince Weir of the brilliance of his plan to bring Ronon back to Earth with him, to let him see firsthand where most of the people he lived and fought with came from.
Now that he was sitting in traffic, John was rethinking the idea as he glanced over at Ronon, whose normally detached expression was twisted into something John had never seen before. Was Ronon happy to be there? Nervous? Pissed off for being dragged away for something like this? With Ronon, it was impossible to tell. And though John couldn't believe he was thinking it, right then he would've given anything to have to tolerate McKay's inability to shut up.
John pointed to the cars backed up on the highway and said, "Welcome to America. Home of congestion that never ends." Ronon nodded, but didn't say anything, so John continued talking. "We've only got forty-eight hours off the base, so if there is anything that you've been curious about or want to see—"
"—I'm fine."
"Okay. That's...good," John replied.
"Your people have an aversion to walking."
John smiled and replied, "Do me a favor and avoid mentioning that to McKay. He'll start going on about how America wastes most of the world's fossil fuels and never shut up."
John pointed to where an accident had cleared and said, "I think we'll have smooth sailing from here on out."
It was now official. John definitely regretted bringing Ronon back to Earth with him. John thought he had covered everything with Ronon on the trip, things to expect, things to ignore…he stopped short of writing out a list entitled "Things Not to Do on Earth" because it felt too much like a Rodney-type thing for John's liking. He hadn't accounted for Ronon properly, overlooking what seemed like such a simple thing, but apparently on Sateda, people didn't have pets.
John rubbed his eye, already feeling it swell beneath his fingers, and said, "I leave you alone for two seconds and you kill a little girl's cat."
"I thought it was going to attack her."
"It was a kitten, Ronon. It couldn't have killed a mouse yet," John said. He stretched back on his sofa and glanced around his house. He groaned as his ribs buckled under the pressure of moving – the surefire sign of bruised or cracked ribs – and he tried to remember exactly what the enraged pet owner had done to him. Instead of focusing on that, John forced his gaze on Ronon and said, "I'm going to have to move now. Thanks."
"Sorry," Ronon replied, and he almost sounded like he meant it.
John glanced over at Ronon and asked, "And why is it that you kill the cat but her father attacks me?"
Ronon looked from him to John and John remembered why the father had chosen John to beat to a pulp. Ronon scared most of the best trained men on a good day. John sighed. "Okay. I think I figured that one out." John looked at the stairs that lead to his bathroom and the thought of climbing the stairs intimidated him. "I need to get cleaned up."
John attempted to stand, but Ronon placed his hands on John's shoulders and pushed him back down onto the sofa. Ronon stood up and said, "I'll get some bandages. You don't look too good."
"Yeah, well, people tend to get upset when someone murders their family pet."
"I didn't know."
John shrugged and said, "I know. It's my fault. I don't think of these things when I bring aliens home with me. Really should work on that."
"Bring many aliens home?"
"Just you. Unless you count Teyla's fantasy visit, but that's a story for another day."
Ronon raised his eyebrow as though he wanted an explanation, but instead, he motioned to the stairs. "I'll get the supplies."
"Good idea." John patted the couch and said, "I'll wait here."
"Ow."
"Stop moving."
"Whatever you're doing, it hurts."
"Is your world filled with cowards?"
"Hey, do I judge all your people because you ate some kid's cat?"
"I didn't eat it. I killed it. Stay still."
"That's too tight."
"Your ribs need to heal."
"And I'm telling you it's too tight. Are you trying to finish the job the guy started?"
"I don't think McKay complains this much."
"That's just mean."
"Stop moving."
"Could you hurry it up? This isn't a comfortable position."
"I'm pretty sure you've handled worse."
"Are you flirting with me, Ronon?"
"What?"
"Nevermind. Ow."
"This wouldn't take so long if you stopped moving around."
"I'm trying to stay still. I'm also trying to understand the threat of a four pound kitten."
"Size does not necessarily mean weak, Sheppard."
"True, but a kitten?"
"It made a growl and moved toward the little girl."
"Yes, a ferocious meow. Ow. Fuck. Watch what you're doing."
"Maybe you should bandage yourself up."
"Maybe I should."
John wasn't sure how he managed to get up the stairs, let alone into his bed. He vaguely remembered Ronon carrying him – how strong was the guy? – and handing him a bottle of pills that John promptly swallowed. He stared up at the ceiling, aware of the sun filtering in through the drawn blinds, and groaned. His head hurt like it hadn't since his encounter with the Wraith and if there had been any doubt last night, he was now certain that he had a few cracked ribs. All in a day's visit home.
He carefully sat himself up and noticed Ronon curled up in a chair next to the bed. Ronon was asleep, but John wondered how long Ronon had been sitting there.
John attempted to stand up, and he finally mustered the energy only to stumble into the night table by his bed.
Ronon jumped up, fully alert and almost ready to kill. John raised his hands – the last thing he needed was another injury – and said, "Just me. Relax."
"How are you feeling?"
"Like a truck hit me."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Definitely bad," John replied. He ran his hand through his hair and then focused on the bandage around his ribs. He said, "You really know how to piss people off."
Ronon shrugged. He moved closer to John and placed his fingers on the cut by John's eye. He said, "I am sorry about this." Ronon's eyes moved over John's body like touches and he continued, "I tried to change the bandages on the cuts and put more ice on the bruises, but you'll probably need to visit a doctor when we return to Atlantis."
"I'll be fine by the time we get back to Atlantis."
"You should still be checked out. I'm not a doctor."
"No, but I don't need a doctor. There's nothing they can do for the ribs and the bruises will heal themselves. So let's drop it. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter. You're my superior, my leader, and I am responsible for your injuries," Ronon replied. His fingers brushed over the swelling by John's jaw and he added, "The man fought unfairly."
John shrugged. The fight was static in his memory and that was probably a good thing. He stepped back, attempting to ignore the surge he felt when Ronon touched him, and replied, "It's no more your fault than it is mine. I should've thought of these things." John chuckled and added, "Though I really never thought about attacking cats. I'll have to remember that for the future."
"When the man knocked you down, I was prepared to fight, but you stopped me."
"That would've made the situation worse. Trust me. Besides, I've been beat up before, and I really will be fine. If I can survive Wraith bites and crazy, island-dwelling prisoners, I can manage a few scrapes."
"You don't look fine."
"You sure know how to sweet talk a guy, don't ya?"
Ronon placed his hand on John's shoulder and said, "I'm not sure I understand what you want from me, Sheppard."
"Funny. I was thinking the same thing."
"On Sateda, we basically belonged to our superior officers. We were sworn by loyalty and duty. I understand that. But you're different from my past leaders."
"I'd hope so. Didn't your leader sell you out?"
"He betrayed us."
"Well, I won't. There are a lot of things I can't control, but I can promise you that I will never leave my team behind."
"I know. You're a different sort of man."
John chuckled again. This was probably the most Ronon Dex had ever said to him about anything. Then quite suddenly, he stopped chuckling. Hell, he stopped breathing. Ronon gripped onto John's shoulders and pressed his body against John's. Their lips came together in an almost frantic sort of kiss, lips crashing into teeth, teeth biting down on tongues. Nothing sensual, but god if it didn't make John's brain go fuzzy.
John somehow managed to get free of Ronon's grasp, a feat that was almost spectacular given his current predicament. He caught his breath for a second and said, "You don't need to do anything for me, Ronon. I don't run my team that way."
"I'm not doing this because I have to. I want to."
The way Ronon said it left John unable to think. He certainly hadn't planned for this to happen on their trip to earth. Then again, he hadn't planned to be attacked by a neighbor over a dead cat either. It seemed that things simply happened around Ronon.
John smiled. He raised his hands and said, "Okay. But you'll have to take it easy on me. I'm hurt."
Ronon smiled, a new type that John wasn't used to seeing, and sat down on the bed. He grabbed a hold of John's shirt, pulling him on top of him, and said, "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."
The last clear thought John managed was that maybe bringing Ronon home wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he'd have to move. But he wasn't particularly attached to this house – how often did he come home anyway – and he had to admit…life with Ronon in it was never anything but interesting.
Fin