Rodney McKay = Tracer Bullet!

[aesc]

Tonight amberlynne and I got to talking, and between Nantucket and the fact that Rodney's S5 bathtub cries out for porn, the subject of Rodney McKay, Private Eye came up.


amberlynne: there needs to be fic where john is a private eye
aesc: I think Cates and I were talking about this! except it was Rodney
aesc: and John is the slinky dame who comes in and asks for help solving a murder
amberlynne: that works too
amberlynne: john can be the dame
aesc: :> :>
amberlynne: yes
amberlynne: please
aesc: "You remember how to whistle, don't you McKay?" John asked, slinking through shadows and neon lights. "You just put your lips together..."
amberlynne: *claps gleefully*
aesc: \o/ though Rodney is not very smooth and Bogie-like... he would perhaps be a bit red and overcome
aesc: but he would look awesome in shirt sleeves and black tie
amberlynne: hee
amberlynne: maybe john is sort of broke
amberlynne: so rodney's his last hope
amberlynne: he can't let rodney know that of course
amberlynne: and it's not that rodney is bad, he's a genius like columbo, say.. but you know, not as good with people
aesc: yis yis
aesc: in his dark, hole-in-the-wall office
amberlynne: yes! and jeannie is his assistant
amberlynne: except she's going to school or something
amberlynne: and is never there
amberlynne: so he has no idea what's going on ever
aesc: which means the few people who come in just appear, which just irritates him
aesc: because he may be a genius and brilliant at detecting, but he isn't God, solving murders and thefts no one else can solve takes time
amberlynne: yes!
amberlynne: and ronon and teyla have an office next door for there....
amberlynne: something
amberlynne: and they are always coming over and making sure he isn't sleeping at his desk
aesc: or just eating bad take-out from the diner across the street
amberlynne: *nod*
amberlynne: and he lets them because of that one time that some bad guy tried to off him and they saved him
aesc: but that doesn't stop him from snapping as they come in to collect him and take him back to his apartment
amberlynne: heee. yes
aesc: and one night after he's been trying all day to look at evidence from a 10-year-old murder
aesc: he hears his office door open and he looks up, expecting to have to tell Teyla and Ronon to leave him alone
aesc: and standing there in the late evening shadows is this long, tall, messy-haired drink of water
aesc: leaning against his doorframe
amberlynne: leaning against the door frame!
amberlynne: HEE
aesc: HIVE MIND
aesc: and Rodney's "why the hell are you here?" changes to "who the hell are you?" to "ummm..."
amberlynne: heeeeeeeeeeeeeee
aesc: and then the stranger says, voice smoke-whiskey-silk, "you're Rodney McKay"
amberlynne: *shivers*
aesc: and Rodney blinks and sits up (he's been resting on his elbows, face buried in his hands, half-blind from looking at old newspapers) and he says, automatically, "Private Eye."
amberlynne: *claps* YES!
amberlynne: can john be sort of clumsy at being the dame?
amberlynne: because of how he is super goofy
aesc: heh heh, totally!
aesc: "Right, yeah," says the lean shadowy stranger, and just when Rodney's reaching for the .357 he keeps under his desk, the new guy says, "Christ, finally, I got lost twice finding this place."
amberlynne: heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
aesc: :D
amberlynne: i wanna read that right noooooooooooooow
aesc: heh heh, well, I will put it in my notebook!
aesc: or I could post our convo in LJ right now and it would be almost like reading it :D
amberlynne: heee
amberlynne: we never got to the sexing!
aesc: hmmmm *considers*
amberlynne: desk sex should definitely be a possibility
aesc: well, is John supposed to be a dame/femme fatale, or just a dame with a dark, dangerous secret?
aesc: YES YES IT IS
aesc: mmmmph, Rodney pushing John down and rumpling his desk calendar
amberlynne: rodney should THINK he has a secret but he really sort of doesn't but rodney refuses to believe him
aesc: because all slinky dames have secrets :D
amberlynne: ooooooooh. yes.
amberlynne: yes!
aesc: like the one redhead who buries her dead husbands in her greenhouse
amberlynne: and john is all "no, i just really want you to solve this thing for me? why are you making it complicated?"
aesc: and Rodney tells him about the redheaded dame, who'd asked him to look for her husband's kidnapper, but it turns out she'd ground him up into rose food, and *everyone* has secrets, Sheppard--John, or else they wouldn't come to me
aesc: and John looks at him for a moment and says, "I didn't brush my teeth last night. Does that count?"
aesc: and Rodney sighs, because technically it does, but it's not a secret on the scale he's hoping for
aesc: the desk sex might come out of that... John saying that he *does* have a secret, only he shouldn't it's just that Rodney's so unobservant for a detective, which just makes Rodney pissy and grabby and he reaches for John's shirt and John rolls his eyes and says "FINALLY" and grabs Rodney's tie and pulls him in and kisses the living daylights out of him
amberlynne: rodney can be all "wait wait, ronon and teyla.."
and john's all suave "i locked the door"
aesc: then Rodney could be, like, "do you seriously think locks would stop them?" even though John's mouth, which is wet and shining and slightly open, is maddeningly distracting.


I invite you to consider the image of Rodney in rolled-up shirt sleeves with a shoulder holster, and John leaning against various objects (doorframes, Rodney's desk, at least until he actually sits on it), with perhaps a bit of mascara. You know it!

In other news: I'm back from break and feeling a lot better about the world--definitely much less stressed and ready to get back to work. Of course, the first work I did is a new really huge tutorial for PS7 and composition.

But tomorrow I read serious stuff, I swear.

Comments

[omglawdork.livejournal.com]

Um, that sounds like kind of the best new AU of LIFE. Seriously. I'd pay good money to read it. Fake internet money, but STILL. Good fake internet money. And fake internet cookies! Rodney McKay, Private Eye. Awesome.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

I can always use fake internet money! And fake internet cookies :>

Rodney would make a great private eye... He'd definitely have the inner monologue for it, though he falls short on the "silent and broody" side of things :D

[krysalys.livejournal.com]

Except when things go really bad, and that's when Rodney gets all silent and brooding. And when John knows to start panicking.
In his uber-cool slinky way, of course.
Heh.
I'm so looking forward to your AU, hon. Or, wait, did you write & post it already?
*bounces*
-----}-@

[grammarwoman]

This is the kind of madness which must be written.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Maaaad!!! \o/

[mardia.livejournal.com]

WRITE THIS, I BEG YOU.

nd Rodney blinks and sits up (he's been resting on his elbows, face buried in his hands, half-blind from looking at old newspapers) and he says, automatically, "Private Eye."

This is too good not to be written out. HEE.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Heh heh, I will see what can be done! If only students didn't insist that I read their essays... *sigh*

[mardia.livejournal.com]

Honey, as a college student, I am telling you that your students would love nothing better than if you just signed off and gave them all As across the board.

[clear-as-blood.livejournal.com]

There are no words for how amazing it would be if you actually wrote private eye!Rodney fic.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Eeee, well, I have put it in my notebook, which isn't a guarantee, but it's a reminder so I can keep everything in the back of my head :D

[acari.livejournal.com]

Omg yes. I want to read this fic.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

I really wish there was such a thing as a fic wand, that one might wave and have fic magically appear :D

[lilyfarfalla.livejournal.com]

Yes yes, a thousand times yes!!

Rodney in rolled up shirt sleeves is SO YES. Add a shoulder holster and I'm kind-of drooling. And that's without slinky, legs-up-to-here, leaning John.

And if Rodney so deeply believes that everybody has secrets, he must have one or two of his own. Maybe angsty "I've killed people" secrets or something a little darker, DUDES, maybe he ends up using John for something, to save Jeannie, but still, he breaks the trust, and oh MAN, I want to read this. And then see the random noir magazine spread of SGA. It could happen.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

And if Rodney so deeply believes that everybody has secrets, he must have one or two of his own.

I'm thinking he does! Maybe the one case he couldn't solve, or maybe whatever happened that led a promising young scientist to pick up a gun and start asking questions.

[stillane.livejournal.com]

A) Glad life is better.

B) YES. Write that. Please. I started losing it at "Christ, finally, I got lost twice finding this place." and then just kept cracking up. God, I could see it. Hee.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

The boys really aren't very noir. They try, though :D

[lavvyan.livejournal.com]

MASCARA! \o/

[lavvyan.livejournal.com]

ALSO! MASCARA! *drools*

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Nom nom nom :D

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

THIS MUST BE WRITTEN! The visuals your chatlog created demands it.

Mmm, dame John (who is not, in any way, similar to Dame Edna).

[aesc.livejournal.com]

(who is not, in any way, similar to Dame Edna).

*snerk!*

John would make a great dame :D He has the slink and everything!

[anatsuno.livejournal.com]

Mmm, yes, I would like this a lot.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

I particularly enjoy Rodney with his shirt sleeves rolled up. That makes me happy.

[chickwriter.livejournal.com]

Yes, a thousand times, YES! This must be written.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Eeee, well, it's in my notebook so something may come out of it! :)

[dogeared.livejournal.com]

Heee! Well it's good to know that while you were making tomato sauce, this was apparently also cooking. ;)

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Heee!! This needs a bit more work than the tomato sauce, but if it does get done, I hope it's tasty too :D

[spoiledjap.livejournal.com]

To make me feel better write this? I'm stuck home with bronchitis when I should be at works.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Awwwww!! *hugs* I was stuck in evil student appointments all day, but I did manage to distract myself by imagining a few things ;)

[kimberweeme.livejournal.com]

and standing there in the late evening shadows is this long, tall, messy-haired drink of water leaning against his doorframe

That is a sexy mental image. Please, can I have that tonight?

[aesc.livejournal.com]

asdl;kjdflkjf PONY!!!

Mmmmph, I would like that every night :D

[kimberweeme.livejournal.com]

Okay, yes. Clearly that's what I meant, right? I mean, I couldn't very well have John one night and give him away. I am far too selfish and he is far too sexy.

(My friend who doesn't even watch SGA - she's crazy - made this icon for me because she is a very cool person and understands fangirl obsessions.)

[beeej.livejournal.com]

Yes, please? :D

[aesc.livejournal.com]

This reminds me... we need to get Woj to write your bar-in-Maine AU!!!

[the-drifter.livejournal.com]

Oh man, I so hope you write this. I'm a huge fan of classic noir, and my mind's already imagining John and Rodney through the lens of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. Of course, with Rodney POV, you lose a bit of the restraint:

By the time I reach the plaza, the L.A. sun is bearing down like a flat iron. I scan the shade of the palm trees first, hoping that Sheppard's somehow found the common sense his parents mislaid three decades back, along with his first tooth and the key to that safe deposit box at the bank in Pasadena. I can't spot him until I give up and let myself look at the one location I least want to.

Dead center in the plaza is a concrete fountain, bubbling sullenly like it's waiting for the drought to put it out of its misery. On the near side: a flock of starlings. In the middle distance: an abandoned newspaper. On the far side, legs kicked out and hair inexcusable: my client.

I take the long way around, trying to spot anyone watching from across the street, but the glass of the car windows and storefronts might as well be mirrored for all I can make out, in this light. The dark lenses of Sheppard's glasses aren't any more inclined to cut me a break. I can already feel my collar wilting under my own personal humidity, but his suit occupies some strange territory between crisp and rumpled, like his presence in the plaza is an optical illusion and he's located in another climate entirely. Chicago, maybe, in mid-October. His head is tilted back loosely, exposing the long curve of his throat, and if he sees me as I step forward for the conspicuous walk across the baking stone, his face and body don't give anything away. Maybe they never do.

It's hard to dislike someone that beautifully untouchable, but then, I've had a lot of practice.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

*happy sigh* You capture the weird poetry of Rodney's brain so beautifully. And he thinks in noir! How awesome is that?

Of course, with Rodney POV, you lose a bit of the restraint:

He isn't terribly laconic, is he? I imagined him a bit more Tracer Bullet than Sam Spade, or maybe as Spade with a lot of Tracer Bullet in him, emotional stuntedness and melodrama with lines like,

It's a hard city, hard life, hard knocks. I've learned to roll with the punches before the punches roll me; that's why my .357 packs a punch of its own, and my whiskey does too. I live my life by streetlight and two rules: everyone's got secrets, and never trust a dame bearing cake.

My name's McKay, Rodney McKay. I'm a private eye.

[the-drifter.livejournal.com]

Well, this is what makes your Rodney-as-PI idea so brilliant -- the cynicism is so essential to him that the lack of laconic...ity[?] (god, there's no noun form of this word, is there) doesn't cripple the noir like it could.

However, if Tracer Bullet* is where your head goes, then mine went straight to Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye, hands-down the slashiest classic noir novel ever written. Rodney may never be as coolly self-contained as Philip Marlowe, but it's all too easy to see John Sheppard in Terry Lennox, the charming, broken, green-eyed veteran, who is the lost emotional center of the novel that Marlowe nearly self-destructs trying to recover.


*Is is bad that I immediately thought Rodney:Calvin::John:Hobbes and desperately wanted an illustrated fusion/AU?

[aesc.livejournal.com]

*Is is bad that I immediately thought Rodney:Calvin::John:Hobbes and desperately wanted an illustrated fusion/AU?

anna_luna has done this (http://anna-luna.livejournal.com/25063.html), and it's pretty great.

[the-drifter.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, that was exactly what I wanted. That's the second time in this fandom that I mused about wanting something totally random and it turned out it had already been done brilliantly.

[sgakaz.livejournal.com]

Don't they call them Private Dicks, OK totally thinking Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid or something like that with Steve Martin.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Heh heh, they do, actually.