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skoosiepantsI think I'm going to try and whip up a little Christmas SGA AU. Maybe. I'm spending way too much time on my pudding!fic, so I think I need to step away from the crack for a few days. And you know what I love more than pudding? Puppets. I have a feeling this little fic doesn't even make sense anymore *nods*
The mission had smelled bad from the very beginning, when they’d been greeted at the gate by festively dressed puppets. Teyla had warned them that the Tarpei were considered physically expressive and eccentric by her people, but he’d figured she’d meant that in a French mime or Sad Tragic Clown sort of way. Possibly there’d be a whole lot of inappropriate touching.
He definitely hadn’t been expecting an alien version of The Muppet Show, guest starring Lt. Colonel John Sheppard and his amazing ass.
Apparently, submitting to an open-handed spanking was a sign of trust and heralded amiable negotiations.
Rodney had sang-sung “not doing it!” over and over again under his breath until John was tempted to shoot him. Ronon had, as he often did, adopted his I’m-just-a-simple-caveman-lawyer expression, feigning confusion. Teyla had, of course, offered herself up as a sacrifice with the sort of small smile on her face that had John falling all over his southern gentleman self to assure her that he’d do it, and then he recalled that not only could Teyla kick his ass, she was tricky. But by then it was too late.
The mission had smelled bad from the very beginning, when they’d been greeted at the gate by festively dressed puppets. Teyla had warned them that the Tarpei were considered physically expressive and eccentric by her people, but he’d figured she’d meant that in a French mime or Sad Tragic Clown sort of way. Possibly there’d be a whole lot of inappropriate touching.
He definitely hadn’t been expecting an alien version of The Muppet Show, guest starring Lt. Colonel John Sheppard and his amazing ass.
Apparently, submitting to an open-handed spanking was a sign of trust and heralded amiable negotiations.
Rodney had sang-sung “not doing it!” over and over again under his breath until John was tempted to shoot him. Ronon had, as he often did, adopted his I’m-just-a-simple-caveman-lawyer expression, feigning confusion. Teyla had, of course, offered herself up as a sacrifice with the sort of small smile on her face that had John falling all over his southern gentleman self to assure her that he’d do it, and then he recalled that not only could Teyla kick his ass, she was tricky. But by then it was too late.
