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Title: The Hammock of Ronon Dex
Rating: G
Characters: Ronon, team
Summary: "He'd set it up on a whim, a few weeks after he'd first set foot in Atlantis..." Though Ronon centric, I consider this a team fic, with lots of team friendship.
A/N: Yet another idea that popped into my head that I just had to write. Don't ask me what my problem is. I felt like writing something cute and this is what I came up with. It's based on something included in another story of mine but you don't have to read that one to know what's going on in this one (for those of you familiar with my stories, try to guess which story this idea came from ;) the only hint I'll give is that it's an older fic). Edited but not beta'd so apologies for that.
The Hammock of Ronon Dex
He'd set it up on a whim, a few weeks after he'd first set foot in Atlantis, staying longer than he had stayed anywhere until the walls felt two sizes too small and all he wanted to do was run for the sake of running. The running part Sheppard had helped him with.
“I'm not actually a fan of jogging, but it's exercise and keeps me ready. You know what I mean?”
Ronon did.
The shrinking walls Ronon took care of himself when he stumbled across a closet full of junk. He'd found a net of square webbing, pretty sturdy, and no one else had been interested in using it. Once he was given clearance to move about the city without an escort, he found himself a sweet little spot outside, away from the thick of the population: an alcove between two towers facing the ocean, strategically enclosed on three sides but open at the front so he wouldn't feel like a trapped animal.
He really hadn't meant for it to be more than just a means to keep from going stir crazy. He'd had to get used to being indoors and around people for longer than a day, wean himself back into it, like a man rebuilding unused muscle after being sick for so long. The hammock was for when he couldn't take it anymore and needed to get away without actually leaving. He hadn't planned on it becoming a kind of spontaneous ritual; hadn't realized that the need to just go, to get up and escape when there was nothing really to escape, could be so addicting. But, then, Sheppard had his puddle-jumpers, McKay his lab, Teyla her people.
Ronon had his alcove.
A pillow was added for more comfort, blankets for the cools nights, a couple of plastic crates to use as tables and chairs and to store food. He eventually acquired permission from Dr. Weir to use a metal barrel for a fire, as long as it was out on the pier. He really didn't see what the big deal was – it was a city made of metal.
Ronon hadn't meant for it to be his own personal rec room. He didn't always sleep there. Some days he was content to just lie around and watch the sun set, then he would head back in. He'd forgotten what it was like to stop and stare for however long he wanted, to watch the amber-capped waves roll, listen to the sea breathe, feel the wind and the spray and not think about tomorrow's destination. It was nice.
It was his.
How McKay had found his spot was beyond him.
“Oh, uh... I was... just...” McKay shifted, making the hammock swing as he tried to set his laptop aside, as though certain Ronon was about to deck him so wanted to be ready for it. “I – I was just taking a walk. You know, bit of fresh air?” He smiled, a nervous, twitchy smile. “Carson's orders. He thinks I need to get out more. Outside, I mean. Something about vitamin D from the sun and, um... stuff. So I did and, well, found this and... didn't really think about it. It was here, I was here, looked like a nice spot...”
Oh. That was how.
McKay swallowed, so tense even his throat seemed to tremble. He pointed in no particular direction. “I'll just, um... just get out of your hair.” He fumbled with the laptop, harried and clumsy with a fatigue the gray under his eyes was shouting to the world.
Ronon shrugged. “It's fine.”
McKay perked up. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
McKay relaxed. Ronon started a fire and cooked them hot dogs. It wasn't so bad. McKay was too engrossed in whatever he was doing to start up any conversations Ronon didn't want to have. Although he honestly hoped McKay being here was a one time thing – yeah, he was feeling a little territorial. But if it wasn't a one time thing, then oh well. He'd never seen McKay that kind of relaxed before, sprawled out as he was cupped in the hammock. Only Sheppard ever achieved that kind of loose-limbed repose. And Ronon's mom would probably try to dig herself from the grave to smack him on the back of the head if she knew he wasn't sharing.
It was Ronon's own fault that Sheppard had found out. Sheppard was in a bad way; Ronon wasn't going to let one bad experience too many bring Sheppard down, and a change of scene and a little male bonding in front of a fire did wonders for anyone. It was the first time in what had been a long, arduous couple of months that Sheppard slept the whole night through.
Too bad Sheppard didn't know when to leave.
Technically, yes, he did leave. But he always came back, and then it was a fight over who got the hammock – Ronon, McKay or Sheppard – and a game of rock, paper, scissors. McKay always accused them of cheating – Ronon had no idea cheating was even possible - so Sheppard devised a schedule.
“I get odd days. McKay you get even and Ronon gets it whenever he wants because it was his first.”
It made McKay squawk.
Ronon could totally live with it. Sheppard and McKay mostly came out during the day, anyway, and Ronon preferred the hammock at sunset.
They eventually invited Teyla to join them, since she had yet to stumble onto the spot, and the schedule was thrown right out the window. Ronon wasn't sure what to think of it. He went along because this was Teyla, she deserved it, and could kick their asses if she was so inclined.
On the other hand, this was his spot, set up for him when he was at the end of his rope and needing to get away.
Sheppard devised a new schedule, each taking an hour in the hammock – two hours for Ronon since it was still his. McKay would sometimes nod off and no one had the heart to wake him. Most of the time it was his own fault he was exhausted, but Teyla reminded them that just because saving the city wasn't a daily event, the work he exhausted himself over was still important. Sheppard succumbed to sleep after hard missions, the kind that left bruises, scrapes and a body or two in the morgue. It was only right they let him be. It was not often Teyla was a prey to sleep in the hammock, but it happened, and they let it. When Ronon fell asleep way past his two hours, it was because it was his hammock.
They gave up on the schedule all together.
Besides exhaustion, McKay would bring his laptop, Teyla an Athosian instrument that Sheppard said was not unlike a flute, and Sheppard a cooler of food and drink and, on occasion, a laptop for movies.
Unless they stayed the whole day, then they would watch the sun sink behind the horizon, touching the city with a ribbon of amber stretched over the waves. They would laugh and talk and argue over whose turn it was to be in the hammock while eating hot dogs and s'mores.
It was Ronon's, and he swayed in the twilight breeze, s'more in hand, as he thought about netting for three more hammocks.
The End
Rating: G
Characters: Ronon, team
Summary: "He'd set it up on a whim, a few weeks after he'd first set foot in Atlantis..." Though Ronon centric, I consider this a team fic, with lots of team friendship.
A/N: Yet another idea that popped into my head that I just had to write. Don't ask me what my problem is. I felt like writing something cute and this is what I came up with. It's based on something included in another story of mine but you don't have to read that one to know what's going on in this one (for those of you familiar with my stories, try to guess which story this idea came from ;) the only hint I'll give is that it's an older fic). Edited but not beta'd so apologies for that.
He'd set it up on a whim, a few weeks after he'd first set foot in Atlantis, staying longer than he had stayed anywhere until the walls felt two sizes too small and all he wanted to do was run for the sake of running. The running part Sheppard had helped him with.
“I'm not actually a fan of jogging, but it's exercise and keeps me ready. You know what I mean?”
Ronon did.
The shrinking walls Ronon took care of himself when he stumbled across a closet full of junk. He'd found a net of square webbing, pretty sturdy, and no one else had been interested in using it. Once he was given clearance to move about the city without an escort, he found himself a sweet little spot outside, away from the thick of the population: an alcove between two towers facing the ocean, strategically enclosed on three sides but open at the front so he wouldn't feel like a trapped animal.
He really hadn't meant for it to be more than just a means to keep from going stir crazy. He'd had to get used to being indoors and around people for longer than a day, wean himself back into it, like a man rebuilding unused muscle after being sick for so long. The hammock was for when he couldn't take it anymore and needed to get away without actually leaving. He hadn't planned on it becoming a kind of spontaneous ritual; hadn't realized that the need to just go, to get up and escape when there was nothing really to escape, could be so addicting. But, then, Sheppard had his puddle-jumpers, McKay his lab, Teyla her people.
Ronon had his alcove.
A pillow was added for more comfort, blankets for the cools nights, a couple of plastic crates to use as tables and chairs and to store food. He eventually acquired permission from Dr. Weir to use a metal barrel for a fire, as long as it was out on the pier. He really didn't see what the big deal was – it was a city made of metal.
Ronon hadn't meant for it to be his own personal rec room. He didn't always sleep there. Some days he was content to just lie around and watch the sun set, then he would head back in. He'd forgotten what it was like to stop and stare for however long he wanted, to watch the amber-capped waves roll, listen to the sea breathe, feel the wind and the spray and not think about tomorrow's destination. It was nice.
It was his.
How McKay had found his spot was beyond him.
“Oh, uh... I was... just...” McKay shifted, making the hammock swing as he tried to set his laptop aside, as though certain Ronon was about to deck him so wanted to be ready for it. “I – I was just taking a walk. You know, bit of fresh air?” He smiled, a nervous, twitchy smile. “Carson's orders. He thinks I need to get out more. Outside, I mean. Something about vitamin D from the sun and, um... stuff. So I did and, well, found this and... didn't really think about it. It was here, I was here, looked like a nice spot...”
Oh. That was how.
McKay swallowed, so tense even his throat seemed to tremble. He pointed in no particular direction. “I'll just, um... just get out of your hair.” He fumbled with the laptop, harried and clumsy with a fatigue the gray under his eyes was shouting to the world.
Ronon shrugged. “It's fine.”
McKay perked up. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
McKay relaxed. Ronon started a fire and cooked them hot dogs. It wasn't so bad. McKay was too engrossed in whatever he was doing to start up any conversations Ronon didn't want to have. Although he honestly hoped McKay being here was a one time thing – yeah, he was feeling a little territorial. But if it wasn't a one time thing, then oh well. He'd never seen McKay that kind of relaxed before, sprawled out as he was cupped in the hammock. Only Sheppard ever achieved that kind of loose-limbed repose. And Ronon's mom would probably try to dig herself from the grave to smack him on the back of the head if she knew he wasn't sharing.
It was Ronon's own fault that Sheppard had found out. Sheppard was in a bad way; Ronon wasn't going to let one bad experience too many bring Sheppard down, and a change of scene and a little male bonding in front of a fire did wonders for anyone. It was the first time in what had been a long, arduous couple of months that Sheppard slept the whole night through.
Too bad Sheppard didn't know when to leave.
Technically, yes, he did leave. But he always came back, and then it was a fight over who got the hammock – Ronon, McKay or Sheppard – and a game of rock, paper, scissors. McKay always accused them of cheating – Ronon had no idea cheating was even possible - so Sheppard devised a schedule.
“I get odd days. McKay you get even and Ronon gets it whenever he wants because it was his first.”
It made McKay squawk.
Ronon could totally live with it. Sheppard and McKay mostly came out during the day, anyway, and Ronon preferred the hammock at sunset.
They eventually invited Teyla to join them, since she had yet to stumble onto the spot, and the schedule was thrown right out the window. Ronon wasn't sure what to think of it. He went along because this was Teyla, she deserved it, and could kick their asses if she was so inclined.
On the other hand, this was his spot, set up for him when he was at the end of his rope and needing to get away.
Sheppard devised a new schedule, each taking an hour in the hammock – two hours for Ronon since it was still his. McKay would sometimes nod off and no one had the heart to wake him. Most of the time it was his own fault he was exhausted, but Teyla reminded them that just because saving the city wasn't a daily event, the work he exhausted himself over was still important. Sheppard succumbed to sleep after hard missions, the kind that left bruises, scrapes and a body or two in the morgue. It was only right they let him be. It was not often Teyla was a prey to sleep in the hammock, but it happened, and they let it. When Ronon fell asleep way past his two hours, it was because it was his hammock.
They gave up on the schedule all together.
Besides exhaustion, McKay would bring his laptop, Teyla an Athosian instrument that Sheppard said was not unlike a flute, and Sheppard a cooler of food and drink and, on occasion, a laptop for movies.
Unless they stayed the whole day, then they would watch the sun sink behind the horizon, touching the city with a ribbon of amber stretched over the waves. They would laugh and talk and argue over whose turn it was to be in the hammock while eating hot dogs and s'mores.
It was Ronon's, and he swayed in the twilight breeze, s'more in hand, as he thought about netting for three more hammocks.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:35 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:03 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:39 am (UTC)From:I loved the side dishes of snark and team bonding in this.
Great job as usual!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:41 am (UTC)From:OMG, so sweet! I want a hammock now!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:43 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:44 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:44 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:47 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 03:21 am (UTC)From:*chuckles* Great team ficcie, m'dear.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 06:13 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:24 pm (UTC)From:I remember the other hammock story. "Finding Piece of Mind." I had to check on the title, but the scene was etched in my mind. I loved that scene, so it was especially nice to see a bit more of the story behind the hammock.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:29 pm (UTC)From:Fun fic, thanks for sharing :D
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Date: 2009-04-17 02:27 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 06:08 pm (UTC)From:no subject
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Date: 2009-04-18 12:50 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 02:17 am (UTC)From:*snuggles Ronon*
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Date: 2009-04-18 05:29 am (UTC)From:no subject
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Date: 2009-06-20 05:02 am (UTC)From: