I blame this and any further expansions on my glee at going to see A Dog's Breakfast again. Mmkay?
"Oh my god," Rodney says as Ronon hustles him down the back stairs and outside to a waiting car, "are those helicopters overhead?"
"Radek planted a false lead in one of the news feeds," Ronon says, face calm but still sounding amused. "Said you were spotted heading up to the roof to take a chopper to the airport and then probably out of the country."
Radek had obviously been convincing. The swarms which had been waiting outside Rodney's apartment building had all taken off in pursuit of an empty helicopter, and Rodney and Ronon made it to the Planet without anyone the wiser.
Rodney hopped from foot to foot on the way up in the elevator; said "Oh, for fuck's sake," when he caught Ronon looking at him with a particularly shit-eating grin on his face; and was so pissed off when he was greeted by the spectacle of an utterly silent newsroom that he had to down two cups of coffee before he was calm enough to yell at them all to stop being such morons, jesus, you'd think no one else had ever made the front page of the New York Times on a first date.
He was interrupted mid-tirade by Radek trying to herd him away from the copy-editors and into Elizabeth's office. "Oh for--" Rodney said, "It's because of people like you, you... photographers, that I'm in this mess in the first place. You with your photograph taking."
"Yes," Radek says, "Truly, this was a capital offence, Stalin would have had me shot, please go see Elizabeth before she fires us all."
He puts one hand on the small of Rodney's back and pushes, stoically ignoring Rodney's protests as they move through the pen. Rodney himself is so busy trying to ignore the inhabitants of said pen that he's bitching on autopilot. Katie and Laura are whispering and glancing over at him; Kavanagh is looking at him, half-smirk, half-disgust; the new features guy--the one Elizabeth sent to sit on the doorstep of her own reporter, to poke and pry and ask questions about tentacles, and he is so pissed at that--is openly grinning.
"You are all dead to me," Rodney hisses, before Radek pushes him into the office and closes the door marked "Elizabeth Weir: Editor-in-Chief" behind him.
Elizabeth is sitting behind her desk, waiting for him, fingers steepled, for once neither working nor surreptitiously playing Solitaire. "Rodney."
"I can totally, totally explain," Rodney says, holding his hands up as if to ward her off from going for his throat. The look on her face doesn't make that a far-fetched idea. He goes to sit down across from her, but looks up and sees about three dozen curious faces staring in at them. "Oh my god, you are all so fired!" he yells through the glass before pulling down the blinds.
"We've had conversations about firing the staff writers before, Rodney," Elizabeth says.
"They deserve it this time," Rodney mutters, sitting down heavily.
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trinityofone
Re: OH. MY. GOD.
Date: 2007-01-16 07:51 pm (UTC)Re: OH. MY. GOD.
Date: 2007-01-16 07:57 pm (UTC)Re: OH. MY. GOD.
Date: 2007-01-16 09:33 pm (UTC)"Oh my god," Rodney says as Ronon hustles him down the back stairs and outside to a waiting car, "are those helicopters overhead?"
"Radek planted a false lead in one of the news feeds," Ronon says, face calm but still sounding amused. "Said you were spotted heading up to the roof to take a chopper to the airport and then probably out of the country."
Radek had obviously been convincing. The swarms which had been waiting outside Rodney's apartment building had all taken off in pursuit of an empty helicopter, and Rodney and Ronon made it to the Planet without anyone the wiser.
Rodney hopped from foot to foot on the way up in the elevator; said "Oh, for fuck's sake," when he caught Ronon looking at him with a particularly shit-eating grin on his face; and was so pissed off when he was greeted by the spectacle of an utterly silent newsroom that he had to down two cups of coffee before he was calm enough to yell at them all to stop being such morons, jesus, you'd think no one else had ever made the front page of the New York Times on a first date.
He was interrupted mid-tirade by Radek trying to herd him away from the copy-editors and into Elizabeth's office. "Oh for--" Rodney said, "It's because of people like you, you... photographers, that I'm in this mess in the first place. You with your photograph taking."
"Yes," Radek says, "Truly, this was a capital offence, Stalin would have had me shot, please go see Elizabeth before she fires us all."
He puts one hand on the small of Rodney's back and pushes, stoically ignoring Rodney's protests as they move through the pen. Rodney himself is so busy trying to ignore the inhabitants of said pen that he's bitching on autopilot. Katie and Laura are whispering and glancing over at him; Kavanagh is looking at him, half-smirk, half-disgust; the new features guy--the one Elizabeth sent to sit on the doorstep of her own reporter, to poke and pry and ask questions about tentacles, and he is so pissed at that--is openly grinning.
"You are all dead to me," Rodney hisses, before Radek pushes him into the office and closes the door marked "Elizabeth Weir: Editor-in-Chief" behind him.
Elizabeth is sitting behind her desk, waiting for him, fingers steepled, for once neither working nor surreptitiously playing Solitaire. "Rodney."
"I can totally, totally explain," Rodney says, holding his hands up as if to ward her off from going for his throat. The look on her face doesn't make that a far-fetched idea. He goes to sit down across from her, but looks up and sees about three dozen curious faces staring in at them. "Oh my god, you are all so fired!" he yells through the glass before pulling down the blinds.
"We've had conversations about firing the staff writers before, Rodney," Elizabeth says.
"They deserve it this time," Rodney mutters, sitting down heavily.
Re: OH. MY. GOD.
Date: 2007-01-17 11:30 am (UTC)Re: OH. MY. GOD.
Date: 2007-01-18 04:50 pm (UTC)...so, and then what happened?