wickedwords: (rodney bondage)
[personal profile] wickedwords
Yay! Here are all 11 drabbles from the drabble request meme I did, now beta'd, thanks to the lovely and talented [livejournal.com profile] elynross

For [livejournal.com profile] anna_luna


"This is like Night of the Living Cell Phones," Rodney yelled at John. The barrage of beeping, whirring, and humming seemed to make him more irritable than usual.

"Good to see you too, Rodney." John tugged at the chains holding him to the wall. "Think you could get me out of here?"

"Hmph." Rodney twisted John's cuffs until he could see the locking mechanism. "Give me a minute. Oh, and I work faster with silence."

"No, you don't."

Rodney glared at him. "Right now, I really, really do."

Taking the hint, John closed his eyes and thought the alarms off.




For [livejournal.com profile] miera_c


When Dr. Beckett said she was 'blessed with marvelous recuperative powers', it sent a chill through Teyla, leaving her shivering in the cool infirmary air and her thin examination gown. She had failed them and been captured, Michael's will overriding her own. The Wraith in her made her strong, yet it was also her greatest weakness.

Yet when Carson brushed his hand over her cheek, and his voice caught as he said, "I'm glad you are safe," she knew she was wrong. She lifted her head as his warm lips and strong body brushed against her, driving the chill away.




For [livejournal.com profile] luthien


John tugged on his shorts, pulled on the brightly-colored, flowing shirt he'd bought on MS2-973, grabbed his skateboard, and pushed his feet into flip-flops before heading out the door. Elizabeth insisted that everyone take at least one full day off each month, and today was his elected 'personal day'. He waved at various Marines as he passed them, ignoring the transporter for once in favor of zipping down Atlantis's halls, watching the lights brighten as he passed.

He slid to a halt next to Ronon, who had his "weird, but okay" expression firmly in place.

John just grinned. "Wanna race?"




For [livejournal.com profile] thepouncer


The moment they find a place to make camp, Sheppard slings off his pack and methodically checks their weapons. Rodney's priorities are different -- he's starved, he's cold, and his feet are killing him -- but Sheppard always takes care of the weapons first.

Sheppard gently slides his hands over the gun barrel, inspecting it; his chipped fingernails click against metal as he reloads. Those same callused hands will slide over Rodney's skin later, when they are wrapped up together in their remaining blankets, his fingernails scratching where he holds on.

His touch tells them both how precious they are.




For [livejournal.com profile] elynross


Duncan was making his way across the jetty to his favorite fishing spot when the thrum of Immortal presence sang through him. A figure sat at the jetty's edge, coffee cup in hand, staring out at the sea. When the man turned toward him, Duncan broke out in a grin: Methos.

"I heard that this is the best fishing spot," Methos said, setting down his coffee and offering his hand to Duncan as he climbed awkwardly over some driftwood. "Or it was, twenty years ago."

"It's still pretty good," Duncan said, holding on to Methos' hand, unwilling to let go.




For [livejournal.com profile] margueritem


Propping himself up on one arm, Methos drew his fingers down Duncan's chest, watching the hair part around them. God, he loved how he could do anything with Duncan. Or almost anything. "You know what I miss? Cars."

Duncan lips twitching in a wicked grin. "Cars, huh?"

"Yeah." Methos nodded. "Big ol' cars with huge, leather-covered bench seats."

"Do you really miss cars, or just the blowjobs?" Duncan said, sliding his hand down to cup Methos' cock through the sheet.

With a contented sigh, Methos laid his head on Duncan's chest. "The cars. With you, blowjobs are always on offer."




For [livejournal.com profile] taselby


It didn't feel at all like he expected. Daniel ignored the cracking sound his teeth made as they hit a lump of...something...in the rice pudding. "You, ah, made this?"

"Sure, old family--"

Daniel arched an eyebrow dubiously, and Jack shrugged.

"Okay, I had leftovers. They made it look easy on the food channel."

"I'm not sure you cooked it long enough." Daniel dropped his spoon into the bowl.

"Oh, c'mon, it's fine--" Jack took a bite, and carefully set down his spoon. "You want some ice cream?"

Daniel blinked at Jack. "I was thinking of a different desert."




For [livejournal.com profile] lydiabell


Bobby Hobbes breathed deeply, centering himself, not letting the click of the door get to him. What Fawkes had done... He tilted his head up, closing his eyes, letting the veiled light wipe the image of the syringe in Fawkes's thigh from his mind's eye. Rage flushed through him. He needed to pound something, hit something, feel flesh give way under his hands. He wanted the primal satisfaction that came from beating someone bloody. Fawkes was a fool to trust their friendship, to risk his own life to save Bobby's.

He knew Darien's life was worth more than his own.




For [livejournal.com profile] brancher


Rose shut the door, then leaned heavily against it. "All right, then. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" The Doctor backed away slowly, hands in the air, until he rammed into the edge of the bed. "Ow."

"Nothing." Rose nodded sarcastically and stepped closer. "In case you haven't noticed, you just followed me into my bedroom."

"Oh." The Doctor looked around and blinked. "I suppose I have."

"Now give."

He sank onto the bed, elbows on thighs, hands dangling between his knees. "I nearly killed you down there."

Sitting beside him, Rose leaned her head on his shoulder. "Notice I'm still here."




For [livejournal.com profile] troutkitty


Good music tonight, Methos thought, taking a sip of his beer. He tapped out the beat against his thigh, enjoying the chance to relax.

"Fantastic! I thought that was you." The Doctor's grin entered the booth first, followed by his nose, then a tesseract of sharp angles. "I haven't seen you since... Rome?"

"Algiers." Methos sighed. This couldn't be good.

"Ah! See you got out okay." The Doctor gestured at someone near the door. "Oi, Rose! Come here and meet--" He glanced at Methos. "--an old friend."

"None older." Methos half-smiled as Rose joined them, wanting another beer.




For [livejournal.com profile] gwendolen


The first time, he was a Watcher, living as a graduate student.

The second time, he was teacher, living with Duncan McLeod.

The third time, Methos was no one, living alone. This time he was ready to disappear.

"That's Dr. McKay, the chief scientist." Lieutenant McMaster gestured at the man sitting in front of a computer screen. "This is Dr. Pierson, our ancient languages expert."

McKay didn't bother turning around. "Soft sciences, huh?" He jerked a thumb off to the left. "Lab's there, on the right."

"Is he always like that?" Methos asked.

McMaster looked pitying. "Most days, he's worse."

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