a ficlet of a different color
Dec. 22nd, 2005 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skoosiepantsHalfway through the second page of another SGA AU, it totally switched directions on me. So if anyone finds the idea of John as a racecar driver intriguing, go ahead and run with this one... My new one has a decidedly xmas bent, so I hope it'll be wrapped up before the holidays!
I also think I have a thing for Cadman *blushes*
“So?”
John frowned down at the engine and poked at the camshaft with his screwdriver. “So, what?” he asked absently.
Laura hopped up on the workbench, pulling her hair back in a high ponytail. “What’s he like?”
“He’s Canadian.”
She rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sheppard. What’s he like?”
“Pale. Likes snow. Says “eh” a lot. What d’you want from me, Cadman? I met the man once, and mostly I just listened to him talk about how much of an ass the General was.” Which he’d pretty much blocked out, since the more the man had talked, the more John’d wanted to strangle him. He glanced up at Laura through his eyelashes, curve of his mouth purposefully suggestive. “Care to help me out here before I break something?”
“You’re doing fine. What are you poking at? The intake valve?” She leant back on her elbows with an amused grin. “Minimal risk of explosion.”
“Not helping,” John muttered. He was less than proficient with hands-on engine mechanics, though his main problem was that he wasn’t all that interested in the subject. Mostly, he just liked to drive fast.
She shrugged. “Just leave it for Aiden, then.”
John quirked an eyebrow. The kid was a whiz, but, “He burnt down the garage last time, Cadman. I’m not letting him near this baby.” He rubbed an affectionate hand over the edge of the hood, cooing softly, and Laura snorted, slipping off the workbench.
She shoved him over with a hip-check and ruffled his hair with a fond, “Silly boy.” Laura was pretty sure the only reason John refused to work on the cars himself was because the General had always been so insistent about it.
He’d wanted John to learn every aspect of the business, tried – highly unsuccessfully – to groom him after his own image; a renaissance man, a jack of all trades, a larger than life tycoon who excelled at nearly everything he put his mind to. But Sheppard was contrary and just as stubborn as the General had been, and the only thing they hadn’t clashed heads on was that John was magic behind the wheel. He was perfection, all nerve and natural daring on the track. Give him the right car – hell, even the wrong one – and he’d exploit everything about it, spin any perceived weaknesses, coax and cajole it like it was a living, breathing animal; and he was damned hard to catch.
“I’m the talent,” John ribbed, passing her the screwdriver which she promptly tossed aside, “you’re the grunt.”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” she groused good-naturedly.
He chuckled, then called out, “Beer?” over his shoulder as he sauntered towards the small fridge at the back of the garage.
“More than one,” she answered, brow furrowed. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Lock didn’t look tampered with this morning, did it?”
John grimaced. “Well.”
“Right. You didn’t lock the garage.” She sighed. “Look, this isn’t going to run. I’ll order some parts, but you’ll miss Saturday.”
“I’ll just use Snoopy,” John said with a shrug.
Laura scratched her chin, staring bemusedly down at the engine. “Try not to get killed.”
I also think I have a thing for Cadman *blushes*
“So?”
John frowned down at the engine and poked at the camshaft with his screwdriver. “So, what?” he asked absently.
Laura hopped up on the workbench, pulling her hair back in a high ponytail. “What’s he like?”
“He’s Canadian.”
She rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sheppard. What’s he like?”
“Pale. Likes snow. Says “eh” a lot. What d’you want from me, Cadman? I met the man once, and mostly I just listened to him talk about how much of an ass the General was.” Which he’d pretty much blocked out, since the more the man had talked, the more John’d wanted to strangle him. He glanced up at Laura through his eyelashes, curve of his mouth purposefully suggestive. “Care to help me out here before I break something?”
“You’re doing fine. What are you poking at? The intake valve?” She leant back on her elbows with an amused grin. “Minimal risk of explosion.”
“Not helping,” John muttered. He was less than proficient with hands-on engine mechanics, though his main problem was that he wasn’t all that interested in the subject. Mostly, he just liked to drive fast.
She shrugged. “Just leave it for Aiden, then.”
John quirked an eyebrow. The kid was a whiz, but, “He burnt down the garage last time, Cadman. I’m not letting him near this baby.” He rubbed an affectionate hand over the edge of the hood, cooing softly, and Laura snorted, slipping off the workbench.
She shoved him over with a hip-check and ruffled his hair with a fond, “Silly boy.” Laura was pretty sure the only reason John refused to work on the cars himself was because the General had always been so insistent about it.
He’d wanted John to learn every aspect of the business, tried – highly unsuccessfully – to groom him after his own image; a renaissance man, a jack of all trades, a larger than life tycoon who excelled at nearly everything he put his mind to. But Sheppard was contrary and just as stubborn as the General had been, and the only thing they hadn’t clashed heads on was that John was magic behind the wheel. He was perfection, all nerve and natural daring on the track. Give him the right car – hell, even the wrong one – and he’d exploit everything about it, spin any perceived weaknesses, coax and cajole it like it was a living, breathing animal; and he was damned hard to catch.
“I’m the talent,” John ribbed, passing her the screwdriver which she promptly tossed aside, “you’re the grunt.”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” she groused good-naturedly.
He chuckled, then called out, “Beer?” over his shoulder as he sauntered towards the small fridge at the back of the garage.
“More than one,” she answered, brow furrowed. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Lock didn’t look tampered with this morning, did it?”
John grimaced. “Well.”
“Right. You didn’t lock the garage.” She sighed. “Look, this isn’t going to run. I’ll order some parts, but you’ll miss Saturday.”
“I’ll just use Snoopy,” John said with a shrug.
Laura scratched her chin, staring bemusedly down at the engine. “Try not to get killed.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 05:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 05:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 03:48 am (UTC)This is the best one so far. John as a racer is sooo perfect, and I just wanna lick him!
So what's Rodney going to be? An engineer perhaps?
--rags--
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 05:29 am (UTC)After a week of squealing like a giant girl whenever he bumped into Dex – the well-muscled, hirsute, refused-to-be-fired interloper – he started leaving the kitchen lights on and timed a coffee pot and they bonded over slices of pie and contended grunts.
And Rodney resigned himself to having a… manservant? Pool boy? Ninja assassin? What the hell did Dex *do*, anyway? lurking about the house.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 06:30 am (UTC)Rodney sqealing like a giant girl is also strangely appealing....
--rags--
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 08:28 am (UTC)Mmmmm... McKay/Ronon, Jealous John. Yay!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 11:26 am (UTC)“Is Ronon here?”
Rodney’s face screwed up. “Who?”
“Ronon.” Sheppard scratched the back of his neck, head dipping, eyelashes grazing the tops of his cheeks.
God, he was hot. “Do I know a Ronon?” Rodney asked absently.
Sheppard’s head snapped up, hazel eyes slipping from incredulous to intense within seconds. “You *live* with a Ronon,” he growled.
“Oh! Dex, right.” Rodney rocked back on his heels. “He’s hibernating in Nebraska for a few weeks, and with an immense amount of luck he’ll shed his winter coat before he returns.” He made a shooing motion. “You’ll have to find someone else to play with in the meantime.”
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 11:33 am (UTC)Little Black Ram
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 04:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 02:20 pm (UTC)Was wondering the other day why I've never seen any AUs in which John is a rock star, but the racecar thing needed to be done too.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 04:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 08:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-25 01:41 pm (UTC)