fic: Let Go [2/2]
May. 27th, 2008 08:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renisanzTITLE: Let Go – Pt. 2
AUTHOR: renisanz
SUMMARY: Trapped in a room once again, Ronon and Jennifer experience a bit of role reversal.
CATEGORY: romance/adventure(?)
RATING: PG
WORDS: 2,170
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.
NOTES: Spoilers for “Quarantine” and anything else that comes up from previous seasons. Written for A Chance To Get Creative challenge atsg_onesweetlove.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
AUTHOR: renisanz
SUMMARY: Trapped in a room once again, Ronon and Jennifer experience a bit of role reversal.
CATEGORY: romance/adventure(?)
RATING: PG
WORDS: 2,170
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.
NOTES: Spoilers for “Quarantine” and anything else that comes up from previous seasons. Written for A Chance To Get Creative challenge at
sg_onesweetlove.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Let Go - Pt. 1
Ronon watched intently as Jennifer slid out of her shirt and away from the duct, plopping into his outstretched arms. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when she threw her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his throat. He let his thumb caress her shoulder a little, telling himself it was just for comfort.
“Uhm. . .you ok?” Ronon hoped his voice sounded steady enough.
She flinched against him and then looked up at him, her cheeks a familiar tint of pink. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for catching me.” She loosed her arm from around his shoulders.
With some reluctance, Ronon set her down in front of him. “You thought I wouldn't?” he smirked.
“Well, I did kick you in the face. . .” she reminded him.
“Yeah, my nose,” he pointed out. It still ached.
Jennifer's face lost its color. “Oh, God. I'm so sorry.” Suddenly she was in what he liked to call her “doctor mode,” reaching toward his face. “It's not broken, is it?”
Ronon never objected to her touching him, but, as he noticed what she wasn't wearing, he gently grabbed her wrist, stopping her inspection. “It's fine. So, did you get the wire stuff done?”
“Yes. At least, I think I did,” Jennifer said.
That wasn't much of an answer, Ronon thought. “Well, how will we know it worked?”
“I guess we just wait. And, ya know, if we don't die horribly, we're ok,” she shrugged.
“That's it?” Ronon hated sitting around waiting, but the sight of Jennifer's pale yellow, lace-trimmed undergarment assuaged one restlessness in favor of another. He didn't mean to stare—much—but there was something intriguing about the tiny bow that adorned the join of the two cup-like pieces of fabric. But not more so than the creamy flesh exposed all around them.
Jennifer looked down at herself and blushed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned away from him. “Yeah. . .where's my jacket?”
For the first time Ronon spied the nasty red gash that stood in direct contrast to her fair skin. “You're hurt.”
Jennifer looked confused for a moment, and then followed Ronon's gaze to her side. She lifted her right arm and winced as she gingerly touched her fingertips of her left hand to the wound. “Ow. Yeah. That freakin' piece of metal.”
Ronon watched as Jennifer bit her lip in a way that told him she was debating about something. She looked from her cut and up to him. “Look, uhm. . .”
“Yeah?”
“Could you. . . I mean, you're gonna have to help me clean this. It doesn't look to be terribly deep, but who knows what kind of nasty bacteria was living up there.”
“Ok,” Ronon shrugged. It wasn't like surgery or anything. He could do this.
Jennifer moved to get her medical kit, but Ronon stopped her. “Just sit. I'll get it. You just tell me what to do.”
. . . . .
She sat on one half of the broken table as Ronon prepared to clean her wound. In the all the excitement of hanging for her life and then being in Ronon's arms, she had forgotten the injury. However, she was extremely glad she had her small medical kit on her when they were sealed into the room. Ronon was kneeling beside her now after having pulled on the pair of latex gloves, and Jennifer couldn't help but smile at how strange the sight was.
“Ok, now what?” Ronon asked.
“Alright, take one of the disinfectant wipes and clean the cut. You're gonna have to apply it to the actual cut as well, so just. . .be gentle, ok?”
Ronon raised an eyebrow and then shrugged, his gaze intent on her side. Jennifer lifted her arm to give him better access, but she felt awkward with her arm in the air, so she finally placed it lightly on Ronon's shoulder.
Ronon pressed the wipe to her cut and Jennifer flinched away from him.
Ronon froze, his hazel eyes darting up to meet hers. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
Jennifer blushed. “No, uhm . . . it's just . . . cold,” she lied. It was actually the combination of Ronon's warm breath against the moisture the wipe applied to her skin that had caused Jen to shiver.
Ronon relaxed then, and Jennifer saw the hint of what may have been relief pass across his features even as he rolled his eyes. “You are not a very good patient,” he chided, but there was a bit of mirth in his tone.
“I know,” she sighed. “Sorry.” Jenifer knew that she would have to stop being such a ninny and suck up whatever discomfort she felt. The quicker Ronon got done, the quicker she could get back into her jacket and not feel so. . .so exposed in front of this man. “Just keep going,” she instructed him after a moment.
. . . . .
After Jennifer's initial reaction, the task went by fairly quickly. Jennifer only spoke when giving him some instruction what to do next. How to cut the gauze and apply the tape to bandage the wound. A few times, Ronon would look up to see Jennifer's lips pursed and her eyes closed. She didn't flinch or cry out in pain, and the only way he knew she was feeling anything was from the occasional squeeze of her fingers against his shoulder followed by a slight intake of breath.
He smoothed the last piece of tape across the edge of the bandage, his fingers trailing along the smooth surface of her skin as he silently cursed the barrier of the gloves he wore.
And then he was done. Ronon was reluctant to announce it. He didn't have to, for Jennifer turned to him. “You done?”
“Yeah.” He leaned away from her, resting his hands on his thighs.
He watched with curiosity as Jennifer turned to inspect his work. Then she looked back up at him, her smile almost overwhelming. “You did a good job,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
Ronon was only going to shrug, but he thought better of it and said, “Thanks,” as he pulled off the latex gloves.
Jennifer looked around, a bit unsure. Oh yeah. He remembered her earlier request for the whereabouts of her uniform jacket. He turned and spied a pile of dark blue fabric with patches of yellow next to the other half of the broken table. Ronon leaned over and grabbed the garment, then turned back to Jennifer.
She smiled at him gratefully. “Uhm, could you. . ?” She held out her arm in a sign he understood she meant him to help her put her jacket on. “I don't want to aggravate all your hard work,” she smirked.
He held the jacket open as Jennifer gingerly slipped one arm into a sleeve and then the other. She zipped up the front of the jacket. As she swept her hand behind her neck and under long blondish hair that had come loose from her hair-tie, sweeping it from under the back of her jacket, Ronon's senses were assaulted with a familiar floral scent that he had only once allowed himself to indulge when he had been locked in the infirmary with Jennifer.
“Thank you,” she smiled once more. Ronon nodded, and started to get the restless feeling again. Needing something to do, he collected the medical supplies he had taken out and began putting them in their respective places in the bag.
. . . . .
Jennifer was impressed that Ronon remembered where he had taken everything from. He put everything back in the correct pockets, only looking up to ask Jennifer what he should do with the discarded gloves. “Look in the front pocket,” she instructed. “The bright yellow plastic bags? Yeah. Take one out and put them in there, and then seal it up and put it all back in the case.”
She watched as Ronon did as she told him. Jennifer felt strangely heartened by his willingness to defer to her guidance in this situation. The only other time she had experienced this side of him was when they were getting the infirmary prepared for whatever casualties occurred in the involuntary quarantine lockdown.
“Ok, now what?” Ronon prodded.
Jennifer shrugged, sliding down off the broken table half and onto the floor. “Now,” she shook her head. “We hope that Rodney can access and override the command codes in this building's security mainframe and get us out of here.” She pressed her back to the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest.
Ronon sat down to her right, his shoulder touching hers. “Before we die horribly, right?” He turned to face her, and the smirk playing on his lips belied the seriousness of the statement.
“Right,” Jennifer confirmed. She sighed, relaxing against Ronon's warm body as she recalled the events that brought about their current predicament.
After Col. Sheppard's team had found what appeared to be one of Michael's abandoned laboratories, Jennifer had requested to accompany SGA-1 when they returned to the planet in order to ascertain exactly what the Wraith-hybrid had been doing. There was the slim possibility of gaining information about his current experiments and hints to the location of other labs. It was unlikely, but the opportunity was too important to pass up.
As the team ventured deeper into the facility, Rodney began to detect some “strange” energy signatures. Jennifer wanted to inspect the equipment that had been left in the room they she in Ronon were currently trapped in. After confirming that there weren't any other life signs but the four of them, Sheppard had gone with Rodney to investigate the mysterious readings, ordering Ronon to stay with Jennifer. They had only been gone a few minutes when doors started slamming shut, sealing them into the room.
Not again, Ronon had thought, while Jennifer said it aloud.
Moments later, they heard Sheppard's voice over the radio, asking them if they were alright, the irritation evident in his voice. Apparently McKay had “touched something” activating some sort of security lockdown of the facility. Then McKay was on the radio, telling them that everything was fine in a slightly panicked tone that told them it wasn't, instructing the trapped pair on how they could go about fixing the situation.
. . . . .
“When we get back to Atlantis, remind me never to go off-world with you guys again.”
Ronon was startled by the casualness in Jennifer's tone even as she leaned her head against his shoulder in a familiar and yet not at all unwelcome gesture. It intrigued him that she could be so shy one moment and so forward the next.
He didn't mind going along with it, though. He took the chance of lifting his arm, draping it around her shoulder. In the back of his mind, he thought it would be better to stay alert and not let his defenses down. However, he had come to realize that only worked against people trying to kill him. This little woman from a place called Chippewa Falls had the power to melt away all the barriers he had erected—make him want to let go of them for good—with nothing more than a smile. It was a beautiful one.
“We're that bad, huh?” he finally asked.
He regretted the question only because Jennifer lifted her head from his shoulder to regard him. “Puh-lease,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I could make a living betting against the chances of your team coming through the gate unscathed, a small fortune on the odds of you making a week without injuring yourself sparring.” Her brown eyes twinkled.
She poked him playfully in the chest for emphasis, but Ronon grabbed her hand before she could pull it back. Her eyes widened, questioning his intention, but she didn't draw away. He saw her eyes flick down to his mouth, and that was all the cue he needed. He met her lips fast but kissed her slowly, savoring the feel of her mouth against his. She was soft and sweet. . .and it was over too quickly, for now she pulled away from him. Ronon mustered the small amount of self control he had left to resist tasting her again. As much as he wanted more, he didn't want to press Jennifer for more than she was willing to give.
Somehow Jennifer's hand had moved to his chest, and Ronon knew she must have felt its thunderous beat beneath her petite palm.
Behind him there was a loud clang, like the shifting of metal. In an fluid, second-nature motion Ronon turned and drew his gun as he pushed Jennifer behind him. The door on the far side of the room screeched and slid open. A second later he was greeted with the view of unruly black hair behind the sight of a P-90.
They were free, but as Ronon lowered his weapon, relief was the last thing he felt. But as he turned to the young woman behind him, took in the blush of her cheeks under his gaze, it wasn't regret either.
For that he was glad.
FINIS (?)
Sequel: Left Behind
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Uhm. . . epilogue anyone?
I used the “Music” prompt. The title of the story is inspired by the song “Let Go” by Frou Frou. This story first came about when I had the idea of what Ronon and Jen would do the pass the time if they were trapped in a room together. Again. Originally there were meant to be other characters in the room as well, but things sort of evolved until it was just the two of them.
Thanks for all your comments on the first chapter. I know I have two other stories to finish, but this demanded to be written, so I'm glad y'all liked it. I hope you like this chapter as well. I'll seriously try to write an epilogue, but it may be a while.
Thanksjourneyman07for your brilliant suggestions. :)
Let Go - Pt. 1
Ronon watched intently as Jennifer slid out of her shirt and away from the duct, plopping into his outstretched arms. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when she threw her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his throat. He let his thumb caress her shoulder a little, telling himself it was just for comfort.
“Uhm. . .you ok?” Ronon hoped his voice sounded steady enough.
She flinched against him and then looked up at him, her cheeks a familiar tint of pink. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for catching me.” She loosed her arm from around his shoulders.
With some reluctance, Ronon set her down in front of him. “You thought I wouldn't?” he smirked.
“Well, I did kick you in the face. . .” she reminded him.
“Yeah, my nose,” he pointed out. It still ached.
Jennifer's face lost its color. “Oh, God. I'm so sorry.” Suddenly she was in what he liked to call her “doctor mode,” reaching toward his face. “It's not broken, is it?”
Ronon never objected to her touching him, but, as he noticed what she wasn't wearing, he gently grabbed her wrist, stopping her inspection. “It's fine. So, did you get the wire stuff done?”
“Yes. At least, I think I did,” Jennifer said.
That wasn't much of an answer, Ronon thought. “Well, how will we know it worked?”
“I guess we just wait. And, ya know, if we don't die horribly, we're ok,” she shrugged.
“That's it?” Ronon hated sitting around waiting, but the sight of Jennifer's pale yellow, lace-trimmed undergarment assuaged one restlessness in favor of another. He didn't mean to stare—much—but there was something intriguing about the tiny bow that adorned the join of the two cup-like pieces of fabric. But not more so than the creamy flesh exposed all around them.
Jennifer looked down at herself and blushed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned away from him. “Yeah. . .where's my jacket?”
For the first time Ronon spied the nasty red gash that stood in direct contrast to her fair skin. “You're hurt.”
Jennifer looked confused for a moment, and then followed Ronon's gaze to her side. She lifted her right arm and winced as she gingerly touched her fingertips of her left hand to the wound. “Ow. Yeah. That freakin' piece of metal.”
Ronon watched as Jennifer bit her lip in a way that told him she was debating about something. She looked from her cut and up to him. “Look, uhm. . .”
“Yeah?”
“Could you. . . I mean, you're gonna have to help me clean this. It doesn't look to be terribly deep, but who knows what kind of nasty bacteria was living up there.”
“Ok,” Ronon shrugged. It wasn't like surgery or anything. He could do this.
Jennifer moved to get her medical kit, but Ronon stopped her. “Just sit. I'll get it. You just tell me what to do.”
. . . . .
She sat on one half of the broken table as Ronon prepared to clean her wound. In the all the excitement of hanging for her life and then being in Ronon's arms, she had forgotten the injury. However, she was extremely glad she had her small medical kit on her when they were sealed into the room. Ronon was kneeling beside her now after having pulled on the pair of latex gloves, and Jennifer couldn't help but smile at how strange the sight was.
“Ok, now what?” Ronon asked.
“Alright, take one of the disinfectant wipes and clean the cut. You're gonna have to apply it to the actual cut as well, so just. . .be gentle, ok?”
Ronon raised an eyebrow and then shrugged, his gaze intent on her side. Jennifer lifted her arm to give him better access, but she felt awkward with her arm in the air, so she finally placed it lightly on Ronon's shoulder.
Ronon pressed the wipe to her cut and Jennifer flinched away from him.
Ronon froze, his hazel eyes darting up to meet hers. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
Jennifer blushed. “No, uhm . . . it's just . . . cold,” she lied. It was actually the combination of Ronon's warm breath against the moisture the wipe applied to her skin that had caused Jen to shiver.
Ronon relaxed then, and Jennifer saw the hint of what may have been relief pass across his features even as he rolled his eyes. “You are not a very good patient,” he chided, but there was a bit of mirth in his tone.
“I know,” she sighed. “Sorry.” Jenifer knew that she would have to stop being such a ninny and suck up whatever discomfort she felt. The quicker Ronon got done, the quicker she could get back into her jacket and not feel so. . .so exposed in front of this man. “Just keep going,” she instructed him after a moment.
. . . . .
After Jennifer's initial reaction, the task went by fairly quickly. Jennifer only spoke when giving him some instruction what to do next. How to cut the gauze and apply the tape to bandage the wound. A few times, Ronon would look up to see Jennifer's lips pursed and her eyes closed. She didn't flinch or cry out in pain, and the only way he knew she was feeling anything was from the occasional squeeze of her fingers against his shoulder followed by a slight intake of breath.
He smoothed the last piece of tape across the edge of the bandage, his fingers trailing along the smooth surface of her skin as he silently cursed the barrier of the gloves he wore.
And then he was done. Ronon was reluctant to announce it. He didn't have to, for Jennifer turned to him. “You done?”
“Yeah.” He leaned away from her, resting his hands on his thighs.
He watched with curiosity as Jennifer turned to inspect his work. Then she looked back up at him, her smile almost overwhelming. “You did a good job,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
Ronon was only going to shrug, but he thought better of it and said, “Thanks,” as he pulled off the latex gloves.
Jennifer looked around, a bit unsure. Oh yeah. He remembered her earlier request for the whereabouts of her uniform jacket. He turned and spied a pile of dark blue fabric with patches of yellow next to the other half of the broken table. Ronon leaned over and grabbed the garment, then turned back to Jennifer.
She smiled at him gratefully. “Uhm, could you. . ?” She held out her arm in a sign he understood she meant him to help her put her jacket on. “I don't want to aggravate all your hard work,” she smirked.
He held the jacket open as Jennifer gingerly slipped one arm into a sleeve and then the other. She zipped up the front of the jacket. As she swept her hand behind her neck and under long blondish hair that had come loose from her hair-tie, sweeping it from under the back of her jacket, Ronon's senses were assaulted with a familiar floral scent that he had only once allowed himself to indulge when he had been locked in the infirmary with Jennifer.
“Thank you,” she smiled once more. Ronon nodded, and started to get the restless feeling again. Needing something to do, he collected the medical supplies he had taken out and began putting them in their respective places in the bag.
. . . . .
Jennifer was impressed that Ronon remembered where he had taken everything from. He put everything back in the correct pockets, only looking up to ask Jennifer what he should do with the discarded gloves. “Look in the front pocket,” she instructed. “The bright yellow plastic bags? Yeah. Take one out and put them in there, and then seal it up and put it all back in the case.”
She watched as Ronon did as she told him. Jennifer felt strangely heartened by his willingness to defer to her guidance in this situation. The only other time she had experienced this side of him was when they were getting the infirmary prepared for whatever casualties occurred in the involuntary quarantine lockdown.
“Ok, now what?” Ronon prodded.
Jennifer shrugged, sliding down off the broken table half and onto the floor. “Now,” she shook her head. “We hope that Rodney can access and override the command codes in this building's security mainframe and get us out of here.” She pressed her back to the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest.
Ronon sat down to her right, his shoulder touching hers. “Before we die horribly, right?” He turned to face her, and the smirk playing on his lips belied the seriousness of the statement.
“Right,” Jennifer confirmed. She sighed, relaxing against Ronon's warm body as she recalled the events that brought about their current predicament.
After Col. Sheppard's team had found what appeared to be one of Michael's abandoned laboratories, Jennifer had requested to accompany SGA-1 when they returned to the planet in order to ascertain exactly what the Wraith-hybrid had been doing. There was the slim possibility of gaining information about his current experiments and hints to the location of other labs. It was unlikely, but the opportunity was too important to pass up.
As the team ventured deeper into the facility, Rodney began to detect some “strange” energy signatures. Jennifer wanted to inspect the equipment that had been left in the room they she in Ronon were currently trapped in. After confirming that there weren't any other life signs but the four of them, Sheppard had gone with Rodney to investigate the mysterious readings, ordering Ronon to stay with Jennifer. They had only been gone a few minutes when doors started slamming shut, sealing them into the room.
Not again, Ronon had thought, while Jennifer said it aloud.
Moments later, they heard Sheppard's voice over the radio, asking them if they were alright, the irritation evident in his voice. Apparently McKay had “touched something” activating some sort of security lockdown of the facility. Then McKay was on the radio, telling them that everything was fine in a slightly panicked tone that told them it wasn't, instructing the trapped pair on how they could go about fixing the situation.
. . . . .
“When we get back to Atlantis, remind me never to go off-world with you guys again.”
Ronon was startled by the casualness in Jennifer's tone even as she leaned her head against his shoulder in a familiar and yet not at all unwelcome gesture. It intrigued him that she could be so shy one moment and so forward the next.
He didn't mind going along with it, though. He took the chance of lifting his arm, draping it around her shoulder. In the back of his mind, he thought it would be better to stay alert and not let his defenses down. However, he had come to realize that only worked against people trying to kill him. This little woman from a place called Chippewa Falls had the power to melt away all the barriers he had erected—make him want to let go of them for good—with nothing more than a smile. It was a beautiful one.
“We're that bad, huh?” he finally asked.
He regretted the question only because Jennifer lifted her head from his shoulder to regard him. “Puh-lease,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I could make a living betting against the chances of your team coming through the gate unscathed, a small fortune on the odds of you making a week without injuring yourself sparring.” Her brown eyes twinkled.
She poked him playfully in the chest for emphasis, but Ronon grabbed her hand before she could pull it back. Her eyes widened, questioning his intention, but she didn't draw away. He saw her eyes flick down to his mouth, and that was all the cue he needed. He met her lips fast but kissed her slowly, savoring the feel of her mouth against his. She was soft and sweet. . .and it was over too quickly, for now she pulled away from him. Ronon mustered the small amount of self control he had left to resist tasting her again. As much as he wanted more, he didn't want to press Jennifer for more than she was willing to give.
Somehow Jennifer's hand had moved to his chest, and Ronon knew she must have felt its thunderous beat beneath her petite palm.
Behind him there was a loud clang, like the shifting of metal. In an fluid, second-nature motion Ronon turned and drew his gun as he pushed Jennifer behind him. The door on the far side of the room screeched and slid open. A second later he was greeted with the view of unruly black hair behind the sight of a P-90.
They were free, but as Ronon lowered his weapon, relief was the last thing he felt. But as he turned to the young woman behind him, took in the blush of her cheeks under his gaze, it wasn't regret either.
For that he was glad.
FINIS (?)
Sequel: Left Behind
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Uhm. . . epilogue anyone?
I used the “Music” prompt. The title of the story is inspired by the song “Let Go” by Frou Frou. This story first came about when I had the idea of what Ronon and Jen would do the pass the time if they were trapped in a room together. Again. Originally there were meant to be other characters in the room as well, but things sort of evolved until it was just the two of them.
Thanks for all your comments on the first chapter. I know I have two other stories to finish, but this demanded to be written, so I'm glad y'all liked it. I hope you like this chapter as well. I'll seriously try to write an epilogue, but it may be a while.
Thanks
journeyman07for your brilliant suggestions. :). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 02:43 pm (UTC)*Jen!!! Kiss him again!!!!!!* ahem
-Snowy
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 03:16 pm (UTC)*blushes*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 07:32 pm (UTC)I just love your writing, and I love Jen and Ronon.
*grins*
Good job and thanks for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 05:39 am (UTC)I am still working on my story. I've got another idea stuck up in my head, and it won't leave me alone so I can finish the first.
I'll keep you updated though.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 07:42 pm (UTC)<3
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 10:29 pm (UTC)