Fic: 'Wisconsin Rules' (Stargate Atlantis, Ronon/Keller, PG, 1/1) Title: Wisconsin Rules Fandom: Stargate Atlantis Characters: Ronon/Keller Word Count: 746 Rating: PG Spoilers: N/A Challenge:sg_rarepairings fic battle: Ronon Dex/Jennifer Keller, stitches Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary:"You're one of my better patients. Except for the part where you're in here once a week."
Wisconsin Rules
She has to stretch a little to reach him, one knee pressing into the side of the gurney, the other leg brushing slightly against his. He smirks at her. Like she's doing this on purpose.
Jennifer doesn't deal well with staring, and eventually it makes her so crazy she steps back and sighs. "What."
"Nothing." He's still grinning.
"What?"
"Sheppard thinks you like me."
Jennifer rolls her eyes and returns her attention to the stitches she's sewing across the gash at his hairline. "Sure I do. You're one of my better patients." And he is, actually, legitimately patient in all sense of the word. Unlike certain other individuals. She smiles at him slightly, "Except for the part where you're in here once a week."
Ronon shrugs in admittance. She swats his shoulder with her free hand. "No moving."
"Sorry. Anyway, wasn't what I meant."
"What wasn't what you meant?" she murmurs distractedly, finishing up. She's done a nice job; she's gotten exceedingly good at suturing since taking this job.
"I meant he thinks you want to sleep with me."
Jennifer almost drops her med kit. "What?"
"Do you?"
She does, actually, but that's beside the point. "I don't think this is really appropriate..."
Ronon grins wider, with an air of satisfaction, as if her fumbling attempts to deter him were somehow exactly what he wanted her to say. "He said that if you said something like that, it meant you did."
Oh, for the love of... Jennifer abandons any fleeting traces of nervousness altogether in the face of outright irritation. It feels like high school all over again, having her every action analyzed. She hated it then and she's not too keen on it now. "Is Colonel Sheppard trying to hook us up?"
"Maybe. Said that if I got laid, maybe I'd stop beating the crap out of him." Ronon drums his fingers on his thigh and she tries not to watch. "Also said the only reason I ever even take a hit is so you can fix me up."
In spite of herself, she's flattered by this. "There's a word for that, you know."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Crazy."
"So is that a no?"
A no? She wasn't aware he'd been asking anything. At least, not... that. "I don't know how things work in this galaxy, but in Wisconsin, a girl doesn't just sew up a guy's head and then jump into bed with him. It's called romance, you know, like dinner or a movie..."
"So you wanna see a movie? Sheppard lent me a bunch more DVDs."
"I... what? No, that wasn't..." She honestly hadn't been fishing for a date, and now she feels like a moron. "That wasn't what I meant."
"Oh. So that is a no." Ronon swings himself off the gurney, and she almost blushes. He's just so... fluid, the way he moves, and muscular, and... tall. She's out of her mind.
"No. I mean, no, it's not a no." Ronon cocks his head slightly, taking her anxious ramblings in stoic stride. "I mean, yes. If you want to."
"I asked, didn't I?"
"Right." Jennifer is definitely blushing now. She tries to get back into a clinical state of mind. "You should come and see me in three days."
"Not sooner?"
"What?" It takes her a moment to realize what he means. "No, your..." She points above her eyebrow, and he mirrors her move, reaching for his stitches. Jennifer grabs his wrist and tugs it down. "Don't touch them."
"Right," he says, which is when she realizes she's still holding onto him. She lets go, but it's with a smidgen of regret, and judging from Ronon's continued smirk, he realizes this. This would be easier if he wasn't so big and good-looking. And if she wasn't actually very interested, which she is.
Oh, what the hell. At this point, she's already made a total fool out of herself, right? "See me in three days for the stitches," she says, surprising herself, and maybe even him a little bit, by speaking steadily as if this was no big deal. "And see me tonight for dinner. But no funny stuff," she cautions him. "We're playing by Wisconsin rules."
"Don't know 'em," he offers, but it's not dismissive. He seems interested. She likes that a lot.
Weirdly, this is almost like putting in a suture. The first bit's iffy, but it gets easier, smoother. His continued near-cheer is encouraging, and she smiles. "I can teach you."