skidmo_fic (
skidmo_fic) wrote2007-02-17 01:07 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
Promises, Promises (PG)
I had really intended to write a fic for every day of this challenge, but real life (curse it) intervened. I even had a little cache of extra fics for a while in case I missed a day. But as the dear, departed Rabbie Burns once oh-so-famously said, "The best laid plans o' mice, men and writers gang aft agley," or something like that.
On the plus side, I now have my FAFSA and my taxes filed, and my grad school application submitted.
Title: Promises, Promises
Rating: PG
Pairing: Beckett/Dex
Spoilers: The Long Goodbye
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Ronon’s beginning to make a habit of waking up in the infirmary.
Author’s Notes: written for the gatecreation episodes challenge.
Ronon woke groggily to find himself lying in a bed in the infirmary. Beckett stood over him, one hand on Ronon’s wrist, checking his pulse. When the doctor saw that he was awake, he smiled down at him.
“This is beginning to become a habit, son. How do you feel?”
Ronon grunted, peering blearily up at Beckett, and said, “‘M fine. Where’s Sheppard?”
“Col. Sheppard and Dr. Weir are both recovering well. The consciousnesses that had taken them over have faded completely.” As he spoke, Beckett circled the bed, checking Ronon’s chart and making a few notes before pulling out a small needle and pressing its tip to the bottom of Ronon’s foot. “Can you feel that, son?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Try wiggling your toes for me...Excellent. No paralysis then.”
Ronon watched as the doctor made more notes on his chart and then moved to check the IV bag.
“When can I get out of here?”
Beckett laughed. “I wouldn’t be in any rush if I were you. The surgery was touch and go for a bit. It’s going to be several days before you’ll be released.”
“I’m fine. I can go now.”
Though he was still smiling, the look on Beckett’s face hardened and his voice brooked no objections as he said, “You can go when I bloody say you can, son. I’m the doctor here. If you try standing now, you’ll pull your stitches, and I’ll not have you dirtying up my nice clean infirmary floors by bleeding out before you even make it to the door. I’m going to increase your morphine drip a bit for the pain I know you’re feeling even though you’re too stubborn to say so. And that should keep you from trying any daring escapes as well.”
Ronon tried to argue, even struggled to sit up, but the morphine was moving quickly through his bloodstream, and the world was turning blurry.
“You’re so eager to get out of here, I’m beginning to think you don’t like my company,” Beckett teased.
It was probably the drugs coursing through his veins that made Ronon say, “I’d like it better in my quarters than in the infirmary,” before surrendering to oblivion.
Still, Carson wasn’t above holding him to that promise, and with that in mind, he heartily wished Ronon the speediest of recoveries.
fin
On the plus side, I now have my FAFSA and my taxes filed, and my grad school application submitted.
Title: Promises, Promises
Rating: PG
Pairing: Beckett/Dex
Spoilers: The Long Goodbye
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Ronon’s beginning to make a habit of waking up in the infirmary.
Author’s Notes: written for the gatecreation episodes challenge.
Ronon woke groggily to find himself lying in a bed in the infirmary. Beckett stood over him, one hand on Ronon’s wrist, checking his pulse. When the doctor saw that he was awake, he smiled down at him.
“This is beginning to become a habit, son. How do you feel?”
Ronon grunted, peering blearily up at Beckett, and said, “‘M fine. Where’s Sheppard?”
“Col. Sheppard and Dr. Weir are both recovering well. The consciousnesses that had taken them over have faded completely.” As he spoke, Beckett circled the bed, checking Ronon’s chart and making a few notes before pulling out a small needle and pressing its tip to the bottom of Ronon’s foot. “Can you feel that, son?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Try wiggling your toes for me...Excellent. No paralysis then.”
Ronon watched as the doctor made more notes on his chart and then moved to check the IV bag.
“When can I get out of here?”
Beckett laughed. “I wouldn’t be in any rush if I were you. The surgery was touch and go for a bit. It’s going to be several days before you’ll be released.”
“I’m fine. I can go now.”
Though he was still smiling, the look on Beckett’s face hardened and his voice brooked no objections as he said, “You can go when I bloody say you can, son. I’m the doctor here. If you try standing now, you’ll pull your stitches, and I’ll not have you dirtying up my nice clean infirmary floors by bleeding out before you even make it to the door. I’m going to increase your morphine drip a bit for the pain I know you’re feeling even though you’re too stubborn to say so. And that should keep you from trying any daring escapes as well.”
Ronon tried to argue, even struggled to sit up, but the morphine was moving quickly through his bloodstream, and the world was turning blurry.
“You’re so eager to get out of here, I’m beginning to think you don’t like my company,” Beckett teased.
It was probably the drugs coursing through his veins that made Ronon say, “I’d like it better in my quarters than in the infirmary,” before surrendering to oblivion.
Still, Carson wasn’t above holding him to that promise, and with that in mind, he heartily wished Ronon the speediest of recoveries.
fin
no subject
*giggles stupidly*
no subject
no subject
no subject