trinityofone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trinityofone) wrote2005-12-18 02:46 pm
trinityofone) wrote2005-12-18 02:46 pm
Ficlet for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
astolat: Saddle Club
I can't even follow the rules of my own challenge. Just think of this one as a bonus, okay?
trinityofone: I JUST WROTE FIC ABOUT A PONY! WHAT MORE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME?!
astolat: ...TWO ponies?
trinityofone: Ahh! No! *three seconds later* Okay, fine.
But first, for those who didn't see it before, and for the rest of you, who need to see it again:
By the inimitabledar_jeeling
And of course, this follows: Pony Up
Saddle Club
Unlike a different intergalactic adventurer, Rodney McKay had spent the bulk of his life perfectly capable of handling Thursdays. However, all that had changed following his 37th birthday, because now Thursday was his day to feed Rainbowberry.
Rodney stalked down to the stall Zelenka had reverently built for what he liked to call his “pretty pretty pony” and gracelessly dropped a bucket inside. “There,” he said. “Oats. Now perhaps I can get on with my important work, hm?” He paused, then slapped his palm firmly against his forehead. “Great, McKay. Talking to a horse. You’re obviously losing--”
He was interrupted by a loud sob. It had sounded like it was coming from inside the stall. Rodney looked around, puzzled. Despite Radek’s architectural flourishes, it was not an especially big stall: there was just enough room for a self-refilling water trough, a comfortable pile of hay, and Rainbowberry herself. Rodney glanced at her more closely, counting the legs in case someone was trying to do something farcical like hide behind her. But there were only the usual four. “Hearing things, too,” Rodney concluded, and looked up just in time to see a single crystalline tear roll down Rainbowberry’s nose.
“Um,” said Rodney, and before he could stop himself: “Why the long face?”
The pony began to cry in earnest, emitting sobs that were halfway between a whinny and the melodramatic gasps of a hysterical Southern belle. “I’m lonely!” she declared, at which point Rodney said, “Holy Toledo!” and toppled over a hay bale.
For a moment he lay there, stunned. Eventually feeling returned to his extremities and he keyed on his com. “Sheppard!” he said frantically. “The pony can talk!”
“Um,” said John.
“He knows,” said Rainbowberry. “He’s known from the start.”
“What?” shrieked Rodney.
“Uh, you’re kinda breaking up there,” John said. “Sorry, hello, McKay? Yeah, can’t hear you. Oops. Bye.”
“You pony-dealing liar!” Rodney shouted, and threw the dead com away in disgust. “And you!” he said, rounding on Rainbowberry. “How come you never said anything?”
Rainbowberry, even through her tears, managed a haughty sniff. “You weren’t ready,” she said.
“You’re a talking pony!” Rodney said. “I’m not ready now!”
Rainbowberry flipped her mane, which Rodney figured was probably supposed to lend her words weight and dignity, but really just made her look like the equine equivalent of Valley Girl. “In the time of the Ancestors, there were many more such as myself, and we galloped freely across golden plains, frolicking amongst the--”
Rodney looked pointedly at his watch.
“I miss my mate!” said Rainbowberry, petulantly.
“Well, I miss my sanity and not having to spend my Thursday afternoons shovelling oddly perfumed pony poop,” Rodney said. “Life is tough.”
“I want Fluttershy!” Rainbowberry demanded, stomping her hoof. Rodney shook his head: he could have sworn he heard the melodious tinkling of distant bells. Maybe he had water in his ears.
“Look,” he said. “I’m sure...” He paused, then forced himself to say it. “I’m sure that Fluttershy was a wonderful mate, but he’s gone, and you’re here...still...for some reason...and we all need to make the best of it, hm?”
Rainbowberry blinked at him--did ponies have eyelashes? Since when?--with great disdain. “Fluttershy,” she said, pronouncing the name reverently, “is not gone. She will come for me. And until then, I will endure.” She shook her mane; several flies who had been considering defiling her person promptly rushed off and committed suicide. “Also,” she added, “I know many secrets about this city and its former occupants. If you do something to hasten Fluttershy’s arrival--and also brush my tail--I will tell you them.”
Within seconds, Rodney had hooked several computers up to the Ancient database and fetched himself a cup of coffee. “Just give me a moment to narrow down possible search parameters,” he said, fingers flying over the keys.
But before he could get any further, there was the echoing click of old parts grinding into motion, then the whir of the roof pulling back. This being Atlantis, Rodney was not especially alarmed. However, when he saw none other than Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard come soaring down through the ceiling on the back of a pale purple pony with delicate antennae and butterfly wings, he might have spilled his coffee, just a bit.
“Hi!” said John. “Look who I found!”
“Oh, you just love to make an entrance, don’t you?” Rodney said, but was drowned out by echoing cries of “FLUTTERSHY!” and “RAINBOWBERRY!”
“Hey, Rodney,” John said, slipping off Fluttershy’s back and giving her a friendly pat on the flank. “You know, you might want to check your com? I don’t think it’s working.”
Rodney folded his arms across his chest. “I’m. Not. Speaking. To you.”
“Your mane looks so shiny, Fluttershy!”
“And yours looks so sparkly, Rainbowberry!”
“Aww, they’re happy to see each other,” said John, craning his neck around the edge of the stall, where the two tragically long-separated ponies were getting reacquainted.
“Yes,” said Rodney, apparently forgetting his no speaking rule, “you can add this to your list of daily accomplishments: mock Wraith. Flirt with Ascended women. Reunite lesbian ponies.”
John spread his arms. “Well,” he admitted, “I’m a talented guy.”
The noises coming from the stall were getting slightly more pronounced. Rodney was pretty sure he hadn’t needed to hear a neigh in that context. Also...he waved a hand in front of his face. A cloud of glitter had wafted up into the air, drenching them both in delicate beads of sparkling silver and gold.
Rodney sneezed.
John took his arm. “We should probably come back later,” he said.
“But--but Rainbowberry said she had information about the Ancients that she was going to give me!”
At that particular time, however, the only information Rainbowberry apparently felt like sharing was of a rather more personal nature. “Oh, you naughty girl!” Rodney heard her her say, far too clearly. “Who taught you that?”
“Yeah,” said John, leading Rodney away. “I think she’s busy.”
Back out in the safety of the corridor, “You know,” John said, “we were separated for a while, too.” He pulled Rodney closer, whispered into his ear. “Cut off from all forms of communication, each of us with no way of knowing if the other was all right...”
Rodney planted his hands against John’s chest and shoved. “You lied to me about my talking pony, turned off your com, then swooped in through the roof on a second flying pony, which is currently doing disturbing things to my original pony. Oh, and apparently, this turns you on!”
John paused, considering. “Good summary,” he concluded.
“My boyfriend is turned on by lesbian pony porn!” Rodney bellowed. Almost every person stationed in Atlantis and several of the teams currently residing off-world felt themselves shudder and didn’t know why.
John licked his lips. “Well, you know what they say: if one is sparkly, two are sparklier.”
Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but instead found himself dazzled by the rainbows dancing across the glittering pools of John’s eyes. “So, what do you think?” John asked a moment later, nibbling at Rodney’s neck.
Rodney dug his fingers into John’s forelock and jerked his face back up. Starry-eyed, they stared at each other.
“Shiny,” Rodney said.
*************
Okay, now that's it! No more ponies! I can quit any time I want!
trinityofone: I JUST WROTE FIC ABOUT A PONY! WHAT MORE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME?!astolat: ...TWO ponies?trinityofone: Ahh! No! *three seconds later* Okay, fine.But first, for those who didn't see it before, and for the rest of you, who need to see it again:
By the inimitable
dar_jeelingAnd of course, this follows: Pony Up
Saddle Club
Unlike a different intergalactic adventurer, Rodney McKay had spent the bulk of his life perfectly capable of handling Thursdays. However, all that had changed following his 37th birthday, because now Thursday was his day to feed Rainbowberry.
Rodney stalked down to the stall Zelenka had reverently built for what he liked to call his “pretty pretty pony” and gracelessly dropped a bucket inside. “There,” he said. “Oats. Now perhaps I can get on with my important work, hm?” He paused, then slapped his palm firmly against his forehead. “Great, McKay. Talking to a horse. You’re obviously losing--”
He was interrupted by a loud sob. It had sounded like it was coming from inside the stall. Rodney looked around, puzzled. Despite Radek’s architectural flourishes, it was not an especially big stall: there was just enough room for a self-refilling water trough, a comfortable pile of hay, and Rainbowberry herself. Rodney glanced at her more closely, counting the legs in case someone was trying to do something farcical like hide behind her. But there were only the usual four. “Hearing things, too,” Rodney concluded, and looked up just in time to see a single crystalline tear roll down Rainbowberry’s nose.
“Um,” said Rodney, and before he could stop himself: “Why the long face?”
The pony began to cry in earnest, emitting sobs that were halfway between a whinny and the melodramatic gasps of a hysterical Southern belle. “I’m lonely!” she declared, at which point Rodney said, “Holy Toledo!” and toppled over a hay bale.
For a moment he lay there, stunned. Eventually feeling returned to his extremities and he keyed on his com. “Sheppard!” he said frantically. “The pony can talk!”
“Um,” said John.
“He knows,” said Rainbowberry. “He’s known from the start.”
“What?” shrieked Rodney.
“Uh, you’re kinda breaking up there,” John said. “Sorry, hello, McKay? Yeah, can’t hear you. Oops. Bye.”
“You pony-dealing liar!” Rodney shouted, and threw the dead com away in disgust. “And you!” he said, rounding on Rainbowberry. “How come you never said anything?”
Rainbowberry, even through her tears, managed a haughty sniff. “You weren’t ready,” she said.
“You’re a talking pony!” Rodney said. “I’m not ready now!”
Rainbowberry flipped her mane, which Rodney figured was probably supposed to lend her words weight and dignity, but really just made her look like the equine equivalent of Valley Girl. “In the time of the Ancestors, there were many more such as myself, and we galloped freely across golden plains, frolicking amongst the--”
Rodney looked pointedly at his watch.
“I miss my mate!” said Rainbowberry, petulantly.
“Well, I miss my sanity and not having to spend my Thursday afternoons shovelling oddly perfumed pony poop,” Rodney said. “Life is tough.”
“I want Fluttershy!” Rainbowberry demanded, stomping her hoof. Rodney shook his head: he could have sworn he heard the melodious tinkling of distant bells. Maybe he had water in his ears.
“Look,” he said. “I’m sure...” He paused, then forced himself to say it. “I’m sure that Fluttershy was a wonderful mate, but he’s gone, and you’re here...still...for some reason...and we all need to make the best of it, hm?”
Rainbowberry blinked at him--did ponies have eyelashes? Since when?--with great disdain. “Fluttershy,” she said, pronouncing the name reverently, “is not gone. She will come for me. And until then, I will endure.” She shook her mane; several flies who had been considering defiling her person promptly rushed off and committed suicide. “Also,” she added, “I know many secrets about this city and its former occupants. If you do something to hasten Fluttershy’s arrival--and also brush my tail--I will tell you them.”
Within seconds, Rodney had hooked several computers up to the Ancient database and fetched himself a cup of coffee. “Just give me a moment to narrow down possible search parameters,” he said, fingers flying over the keys.
But before he could get any further, there was the echoing click of old parts grinding into motion, then the whir of the roof pulling back. This being Atlantis, Rodney was not especially alarmed. However, when he saw none other than Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard come soaring down through the ceiling on the back of a pale purple pony with delicate antennae and butterfly wings, he might have spilled his coffee, just a bit.
“Hi!” said John. “Look who I found!”
“Oh, you just love to make an entrance, don’t you?” Rodney said, but was drowned out by echoing cries of “FLUTTERSHY!” and “RAINBOWBERRY!”
“Hey, Rodney,” John said, slipping off Fluttershy’s back and giving her a friendly pat on the flank. “You know, you might want to check your com? I don’t think it’s working.”
Rodney folded his arms across his chest. “I’m. Not. Speaking. To you.”
“Your mane looks so shiny, Fluttershy!”
“And yours looks so sparkly, Rainbowberry!”
“Aww, they’re happy to see each other,” said John, craning his neck around the edge of the stall, where the two tragically long-separated ponies were getting reacquainted.
“Yes,” said Rodney, apparently forgetting his no speaking rule, “you can add this to your list of daily accomplishments: mock Wraith. Flirt with Ascended women. Reunite lesbian ponies.”
John spread his arms. “Well,” he admitted, “I’m a talented guy.”
The noises coming from the stall were getting slightly more pronounced. Rodney was pretty sure he hadn’t needed to hear a neigh in that context. Also...he waved a hand in front of his face. A cloud of glitter had wafted up into the air, drenching them both in delicate beads of sparkling silver and gold.
Rodney sneezed.
John took his arm. “We should probably come back later,” he said.
“But--but Rainbowberry said she had information about the Ancients that she was going to give me!”
At that particular time, however, the only information Rainbowberry apparently felt like sharing was of a rather more personal nature. “Oh, you naughty girl!” Rodney heard her her say, far too clearly. “Who taught you that?”
“Yeah,” said John, leading Rodney away. “I think she’s busy.”
Back out in the safety of the corridor, “You know,” John said, “we were separated for a while, too.” He pulled Rodney closer, whispered into his ear. “Cut off from all forms of communication, each of us with no way of knowing if the other was all right...”
Rodney planted his hands against John’s chest and shoved. “You lied to me about my talking pony, turned off your com, then swooped in through the roof on a second flying pony, which is currently doing disturbing things to my original pony. Oh, and apparently, this turns you on!”
John paused, considering. “Good summary,” he concluded.
“My boyfriend is turned on by lesbian pony porn!” Rodney bellowed. Almost every person stationed in Atlantis and several of the teams currently residing off-world felt themselves shudder and didn’t know why.
John licked his lips. “Well, you know what they say: if one is sparkly, two are sparklier.”
Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but instead found himself dazzled by the rainbows dancing across the glittering pools of John’s eyes. “So, what do you think?” John asked a moment later, nibbling at Rodney’s neck.
Rodney dug his fingers into John’s forelock and jerked his face back up. Starry-eyed, they stared at each other.
“Shiny,” Rodney said.
*************
Okay, now that's it! No more ponies! I can quit any time I want!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 2 of 4