FIC: SPN/SGA - Journey's End 2 - PG-13
Mar. 27th, 2007 04:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laniew1This was supposed to be just a missing scene for Journey’s End (how Dean got assigned back to Linguistics) instead it turned into it’s own story.
Read Journey’s End 1 first.
TITLE: Journey’s End 2
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Dean had no control over his life…
RATING: PG-13
PAIRINGS: Gen – there are no declared pairings, though if you squint and tilt your head all the way to the left.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them, I’m only playing.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.
Journey’s End 2
When it came to a head Dean would blame Daniel. Because even in another galaxy with no contact with Daniel in over a year Daniel still had the ability to totally fuck up his life in new and interesting ways.
It wasn’t uncommon for them to return and be greeted by Doctor Weir, sometimes Colonel Sheppard. But normally they were there because there’d been a fatality, sometimes on Atlantis, sometimes on Earth.
Regardless having both of them, with Doctor McKay hovering in the background made them all a little nervous.
“Captain, how did it go?” Doctor Weir, ever polite. Dean exchanged looks with Parrish because did they really think small talk was going to put them at ease.
“They asked us to leave and to never return, else we would face the punishment of their gods,” Lorne said, straight face.
Doctor Weir nodded, exchanged a look with Colonel Sheppard.
“I’d like to see both you and Sergeant Winchester in my office once you’ve cleaned up,” Lorne nodded to show that he’d heard, Dean’s back stiffened and every muscle in his body went on high alert.
There was nobody on Atlantis and there were only a few people on Earth.
Daniel, Dad, Sammy.
He followed the rest of his team, went through the motions of changing out his uniform and putting his kit away and followed Lorne back to Doctor Weir’s office.
Inside there was the Colonel and McKay and Weir and Dean’s stomach clenched as he wondered who it was.
Not Daniel, the General would have personally made a trip in order to tell Dean that.
So Sammy or Dad, or maybe both and he suddenly felt regret and pain for leaving and not even saying goodbye.
“No one’s died,” Doctor Weir said suddenly and just like that the visible tension in the room ceased.
He and Lorne exchanged a look, because if there’d been no deaths then why…?
The tablet came flying from nowhere at him and Dean caught it almost reflexively because if not McKay had tossed it high enough that it would have whacked him in the head.
“What’s that say?” There was a thin line of glee in McKay’s voice and Dean narrowed his eyes at him before glancing down at the tablet.
Then looked back up in confusion.
“Is this a trick question?”
“What. Does. It. Say?” McKay enunciated clearly and Dean had heard that tone many times and sometimes he thought McKay should just come right out and call everyone idiots to their faces instead of using it.
“It’s a shopping list,” Dean rolled his eyes and tossed the tablet back at him. “In Goa’uld.”
McKay smirked and looked over at Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir with satisfaction.
“I want him reassigned to the linguistics department.”
“Wait a minute, what?” And confusion again, and he was echoing Lorne which meant that they were working together too much.
“And I don’t have enough military as it is to just be giving up one of my guys,” Colonel Sheppard was scowling.
“Rodney, maybe we should talk about this.” Doctor Weir’s tone was placating.
“Maybe we should ask the Sergeant what he wants,” Lorne intercut loudly.
They all looked at Dean expectantly and he looked back at them blankly. Because hell, what did they want from him?
“I was under the impression when I took the gig that I was here under the Military banner, not under the Science banner.”
And Colonel Sumner had been very clear on what his expectations had been, that Dean would forget every single thing he’d learned working with Daniel and focus himself on being a member of the US Military.
“Besides, we have a linguist here. Doctor Spieltz,” he reminded them. “I’ve worked with him before, he’s good.” And he was, he’d been handpicked from Daniel’s team after all.
“He’s dead,” Colonel Sheppard said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“We have him here, he has a direct line to Doctor Jackson, no replacement needed,” McKay rubbed his hands together.
“How about a compromise then, we get someone to help him out with Doctor Spieltz’s backlog and he’s shared between the Science Team and Lorne’s team,” Doctor Weir said tiredly.
Obviously they’d been arguing about this a while, because she sounded like she just wanted a decision made so she could move on to more important things.
Like keeping the city running.
“That’s acceptable,” Doctor McKay bounced in place. “I’ll need him tomorrow at 7,” he said to Lorne before bounding out of the room.
Colonel Sheppard rolled his eyes before following and Lorne patted him on the back.
So apparently he didn’t get a choice in the matter and really when had his life ever been about the choices that he got to make.
******************************************************************************
He was on time, he hadn’t wanted to be but Ronon had reminded him at breakfast that Rodney was a sucker for punctuality and Dean wasn’t sure but he thought that Rodney could probably dock pay even though they were pretty much on duty 24-7 and he hadn’t seen an LES since he’d got to Atlantis.
“Good you’re here,” McKay looked up when he made his appearance in the doorway to the science lab. “Radek try not to blow anything up while we’re gone.”
Zelenka growled at him but didn’t look up from whatever he was tinkering with when they left.
McKay led him past two doors and into the third which Dean knew had been Dr. Spieltz’s office because he’d worked with him a handful of times during his off-hours.
“His in-box,” McKay pointed at a box that was full of overflowing, “if you need help there’s a bunch of idiots that couldn’t decipher the tablet I gave you that are supposedly linguists that you can commandeer, I’ll check in periodically,” he nodded once meaningfully and stalked back out the door.
Dean glanced at the door, at the in-box and wondered if it was suicide if you got buried under a mound of someone else’s paperwork.
******************************************************************************
There was a white-board covering one wall of Spieltz’s office (he should probably refer to it as his but he figured that it was only a matter of time before Dr. Weir overruled McKay and assigned someone who had actually gone to college and got a degree to head up the Linguists Department) with a half-completed translation scrawled across it.
He’d never worked on a translation by himself, always before he’d worked hand in hand with Daniel, or if Daniel was off saving the world with SG-1 then someone that Daniel had assigned to work with him.
Sometimes he’d told Dean to take a couple of days off and Dean had ended up getting loaned out to another SG team (which he never mentioned to Daniel because Daniel could be really possessive of his people and not knowing where and with who they were working, Dean blamed General O’Neill totally) because Dean didn’t like taking days off.
So it ended up taking two days for Dean to feel comfortable in space that he didn’t really think of as his and erase everything Spieltz had done and start over, because hell, for a linguist his handwriting was for shit and every other word Dean couldn’t read.
It took another day for him to finish the translation that Spieltz had been working on when he’d been killed, copied everything carefully out and then sent it to the linguists that hovered in the next room to doublecheck for him and moved on.
They had a mission on the fourth and fifth days so Dean got a brief respite, though when they returned through the gate he was having visions of the in-box that he’d left half full piled to the top again.
Spieltz’s office was dark when he made it there at 7:05, scrubbing his eyes and yawning.
The in-box wasn’t bad though there was a scathing note from McKay scribbled on the white board.
Put your idiots to work or I’ll find something for them to do.
Dean frowned and wondered when the linguist group had become his, he was just on loan.
Right?
He looked back the in-box and sighed.
Dr. Weir hadn’t overruled McKay yet so he was still on loan.
It took him two hours to go through his in-box and he kept fourteen projects for himself and split the others based on what he remembered of the strengths of those people that had been brought from Daniel’s team
Those that he didn’t know personally could work with one of the others and he felt pretty good when he pushed himself to his feet and entered the lab that the linguists had commandeered.
******************************************************************************
He wanted to punch something. Preferably Daniel, because he was the one that had assigned the linguists to the Atlantis project and he’d felt something twist when he had to admit that McKay was right.
They were all idiots.
Actually the might even be worse then idiots and he wondered if it was possible for someone to actually lose braincells, because he didn’t remember any of them being that stupid when they were working under Daniel.
Daniel didn’t put up with stupidity.
He’d had to fix four translations that had come back from that group and he wondered if this was their way of testing him because he was the one that had been put in charge.
It was no wonder that Spieltz had run off and got himself killed, Dean just thought that his time would be better served rounding them all up and shooting them and doing the translations himself.
He didn’t need to sleep.
Lorne appeared in his doorway and grinned at him.
“Can I just kill them all? I’ve got a half dozen ideas and they’d all look like accidents, no one could prove anything,” Dean scowled.
“Dr. McKay said that you were having issues with them.” Lorne sidled into the office closing the door behind him. He glanced over at the whiteboard that Dean had left 3/4 of a translation on, grinning at the stick figure dangling by his ankle from a rope that Dean had doodled at one point.
“They don’t like taking orders from Dr. Jackson’s catamite,” Dean snarled.
“I know, Dr. McKay overheard. I’m pretty sure that he’s already said something to the Colonel,” Dean scowled. The last thing he needed was the Colonel or Dr. McKay to come in and try and fix things for him.
“I can handle this on my own,” Dean stated. He’d pulled enough pranks on Sammy growing up that he could deal with this in his own way.
“Just don’t kill anyone,” Lorne warned.
Dean smiled thinly.
“I won’t kill them; they might wish I had though.”
******************************************************************************
Read Journey’s End 1 first.
TITLE: Journey’s End 2
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Dean had no control over his life…
RATING: PG-13
PAIRINGS: Gen – there are no declared pairings, though if you squint and tilt your head all the way to the left.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them, I’m only playing.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.
Journey’s End 2
When it came to a head Dean would blame Daniel. Because even in another galaxy with no contact with Daniel in over a year Daniel still had the ability to totally fuck up his life in new and interesting ways.
It wasn’t uncommon for them to return and be greeted by Doctor Weir, sometimes Colonel Sheppard. But normally they were there because there’d been a fatality, sometimes on Atlantis, sometimes on Earth.
Regardless having both of them, with Doctor McKay hovering in the background made them all a little nervous.
“Captain, how did it go?” Doctor Weir, ever polite. Dean exchanged looks with Parrish because did they really think small talk was going to put them at ease.
“They asked us to leave and to never return, else we would face the punishment of their gods,” Lorne said, straight face.
Doctor Weir nodded, exchanged a look with Colonel Sheppard.
“I’d like to see both you and Sergeant Winchester in my office once you’ve cleaned up,” Lorne nodded to show that he’d heard, Dean’s back stiffened and every muscle in his body went on high alert.
There was nobody on Atlantis and there were only a few people on Earth.
Daniel, Dad, Sammy.
He followed the rest of his team, went through the motions of changing out his uniform and putting his kit away and followed Lorne back to Doctor Weir’s office.
Inside there was the Colonel and McKay and Weir and Dean’s stomach clenched as he wondered who it was.
Not Daniel, the General would have personally made a trip in order to tell Dean that.
So Sammy or Dad, or maybe both and he suddenly felt regret and pain for leaving and not even saying goodbye.
“No one’s died,” Doctor Weir said suddenly and just like that the visible tension in the room ceased.
He and Lorne exchanged a look, because if there’d been no deaths then why…?
The tablet came flying from nowhere at him and Dean caught it almost reflexively because if not McKay had tossed it high enough that it would have whacked him in the head.
“What’s that say?” There was a thin line of glee in McKay’s voice and Dean narrowed his eyes at him before glancing down at the tablet.
Then looked back up in confusion.
“Is this a trick question?”
“What. Does. It. Say?” McKay enunciated clearly and Dean had heard that tone many times and sometimes he thought McKay should just come right out and call everyone idiots to their faces instead of using it.
“It’s a shopping list,” Dean rolled his eyes and tossed the tablet back at him. “In Goa’uld.”
McKay smirked and looked over at Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir with satisfaction.
“I want him reassigned to the linguistics department.”
“Wait a minute, what?” And confusion again, and he was echoing Lorne which meant that they were working together too much.
“And I don’t have enough military as it is to just be giving up one of my guys,” Colonel Sheppard was scowling.
“Rodney, maybe we should talk about this.” Doctor Weir’s tone was placating.
“Maybe we should ask the Sergeant what he wants,” Lorne intercut loudly.
They all looked at Dean expectantly and he looked back at them blankly. Because hell, what did they want from him?
“I was under the impression when I took the gig that I was here under the Military banner, not under the Science banner.”
And Colonel Sumner had been very clear on what his expectations had been, that Dean would forget every single thing he’d learned working with Daniel and focus himself on being a member of the US Military.
“Besides, we have a linguist here. Doctor Spieltz,” he reminded them. “I’ve worked with him before, he’s good.” And he was, he’d been handpicked from Daniel’s team after all.
“He’s dead,” Colonel Sheppard said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“We have him here, he has a direct line to Doctor Jackson, no replacement needed,” McKay rubbed his hands together.
“How about a compromise then, we get someone to help him out with Doctor Spieltz’s backlog and he’s shared between the Science Team and Lorne’s team,” Doctor Weir said tiredly.
Obviously they’d been arguing about this a while, because she sounded like she just wanted a decision made so she could move on to more important things.
Like keeping the city running.
“That’s acceptable,” Doctor McKay bounced in place. “I’ll need him tomorrow at 7,” he said to Lorne before bounding out of the room.
Colonel Sheppard rolled his eyes before following and Lorne patted him on the back.
So apparently he didn’t get a choice in the matter and really when had his life ever been about the choices that he got to make.
He was on time, he hadn’t wanted to be but Ronon had reminded him at breakfast that Rodney was a sucker for punctuality and Dean wasn’t sure but he thought that Rodney could probably dock pay even though they were pretty much on duty 24-7 and he hadn’t seen an LES since he’d got to Atlantis.
“Good you’re here,” McKay looked up when he made his appearance in the doorway to the science lab. “Radek try not to blow anything up while we’re gone.”
Zelenka growled at him but didn’t look up from whatever he was tinkering with when they left.
McKay led him past two doors and into the third which Dean knew had been Dr. Spieltz’s office because he’d worked with him a handful of times during his off-hours.
“His in-box,” McKay pointed at a box that was full of overflowing, “if you need help there’s a bunch of idiots that couldn’t decipher the tablet I gave you that are supposedly linguists that you can commandeer, I’ll check in periodically,” he nodded once meaningfully and stalked back out the door.
Dean glanced at the door, at the in-box and wondered if it was suicide if you got buried under a mound of someone else’s paperwork.
There was a white-board covering one wall of Spieltz’s office (he should probably refer to it as his but he figured that it was only a matter of time before Dr. Weir overruled McKay and assigned someone who had actually gone to college and got a degree to head up the Linguists Department) with a half-completed translation scrawled across it.
He’d never worked on a translation by himself, always before he’d worked hand in hand with Daniel, or if Daniel was off saving the world with SG-1 then someone that Daniel had assigned to work with him.
Sometimes he’d told Dean to take a couple of days off and Dean had ended up getting loaned out to another SG team (which he never mentioned to Daniel because Daniel could be really possessive of his people and not knowing where and with who they were working, Dean blamed General O’Neill totally) because Dean didn’t like taking days off.
So it ended up taking two days for Dean to feel comfortable in space that he didn’t really think of as his and erase everything Spieltz had done and start over, because hell, for a linguist his handwriting was for shit and every other word Dean couldn’t read.
It took another day for him to finish the translation that Spieltz had been working on when he’d been killed, copied everything carefully out and then sent it to the linguists that hovered in the next room to doublecheck for him and moved on.
They had a mission on the fourth and fifth days so Dean got a brief respite, though when they returned through the gate he was having visions of the in-box that he’d left half full piled to the top again.
Spieltz’s office was dark when he made it there at 7:05, scrubbing his eyes and yawning.
The in-box wasn’t bad though there was a scathing note from McKay scribbled on the white board.
Put your idiots to work or I’ll find something for them to do.
Dean frowned and wondered when the linguist group had become his, he was just on loan.
Right?
He looked back the in-box and sighed.
Dr. Weir hadn’t overruled McKay yet so he was still on loan.
It took him two hours to go through his in-box and he kept fourteen projects for himself and split the others based on what he remembered of the strengths of those people that had been brought from Daniel’s team
Those that he didn’t know personally could work with one of the others and he felt pretty good when he pushed himself to his feet and entered the lab that the linguists had commandeered.
He wanted to punch something. Preferably Daniel, because he was the one that had assigned the linguists to the Atlantis project and he’d felt something twist when he had to admit that McKay was right.
They were all idiots.
Actually the might even be worse then idiots and he wondered if it was possible for someone to actually lose braincells, because he didn’t remember any of them being that stupid when they were working under Daniel.
Daniel didn’t put up with stupidity.
He’d had to fix four translations that had come back from that group and he wondered if this was their way of testing him because he was the one that had been put in charge.
It was no wonder that Spieltz had run off and got himself killed, Dean just thought that his time would be better served rounding them all up and shooting them and doing the translations himself.
He didn’t need to sleep.
Lorne appeared in his doorway and grinned at him.
“Can I just kill them all? I’ve got a half dozen ideas and they’d all look like accidents, no one could prove anything,” Dean scowled.
“Dr. McKay said that you were having issues with them.” Lorne sidled into the office closing the door behind him. He glanced over at the whiteboard that Dean had left 3/4 of a translation on, grinning at the stick figure dangling by his ankle from a rope that Dean had doodled at one point.
“They don’t like taking orders from Dr. Jackson’s catamite,” Dean snarled.
“I know, Dr. McKay overheard. I’m pretty sure that he’s already said something to the Colonel,” Dean scowled. The last thing he needed was the Colonel or Dr. McKay to come in and try and fix things for him.
“I can handle this on my own,” Dean stated. He’d pulled enough pranks on Sammy growing up that he could deal with this in his own way.
“Just don’t kill anyone,” Lorne warned.
Dean smiled thinly.
“I won’t kill them; they might wish I had though.”
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Date: 2007-07-15 06:17 pm (UTC)