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Title: Part of Your World
The prompt used: Road Trip
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slash
Word Count: ~1700
Author’s Notes: Originally written for [livejournal.com profile] penknife as part of the [livejournal.com profile] satedan_grabass John/Ronan Thing-a-thon. Huge thanks to my Beta, [livejournal.com profile] jendavis.




John watched as Ronon took in the park, trying to keep from leaping out of his skin, as the Satedan slowly absorbed his surroundings. John had assured him they were near the end of their trip and that this stop would put all the others to shame but he was anxious to know what Ronon thought. He, himself, was excited about this particular stop. He hadn’t visited in years and it was one of the few truly splendid memories from his childhood, not that he’d ever admit it. Now he was worried that maybe Ronon would think it was ridiculous.


They had been on the road for a week, taking in the sights of the Pacific coast of California south of San Francisco, stopping frequently and spending plenty of time anywhere they paused. John had thought that the cities of Los Angeles or San Francisco might have impressed Ronon but he merely found them crowded and dirty. How could Ronon be impressed after living in Atlantis? Ronon did like Alcatraz Penitentiary, however. He was sure he could have escaped successfully and spent three hours, while they explored Fisherman’s Warf, detailing how he would do it.

“What about the mile of freezing water in every direction?”

“I have swum further to escape the wraith.”

“The bay is full of sharks.”

“I don’t know what that is. Are sharks worse than wraith?”

John stopped to ponder the question. He’d never had to face a shark but he imagined they couldn’t be worse than a wraith who could cross light years – across galaxies! – to hunt you down and suck you dry. “No, I suppose not,” he shrugged.

“Then sharks would be no trouble to me.” John smirked, knowing that was probably true.

They had been thrown out of Hearst Castle in San Simeon for swimming in the grand marble pool that once belonged to William Randolph Hearst. They both thought it was worth it since the tour had been mind-numbingly dull.

John was having a great time going sight-seeing with Ronon, seeing places he’d never seen and never would have had he never gone to Atlantis. Sight-seeing trips were not really his thing before. They still weren’t, not really, but he just felt like he wanted to see these things the way everyone else did, the way he’d never been able to appreciate before. Truth be told, he still thought a six-pack of beer and a football game was a better way to spend his time than looking at some dead rich guy’s stuff. But there were no complaints from either of them. John wasn’t sure if Ronon was enjoying himself looking at a bunch of tourist trap sights, but since he wasn’t demanding John take him back to Atlantis, which was still floating in San Francisco Bay, he figured it must be alright to keep pressing on.

That afternoon, they made themselves comfortable on Moonstone Beach and relaxed with the sea lions that sunbathed there. It had been idyllic, just the two of them on a small stretch of rocky cove, sunning themselves, sharing slow kisses, and watching the surf crash on the rocks until John had to restrain Ronon from massacring a few sea lions to silence their incessant barking.

While that had brought an abrupt end to the quiet mood on the beach, the evening was salvaged by having Chinese take-out and ordering the Ultimate Fighting Championship match on pay-per-view in their motel room. Ronon insisted on showing John the moves he would have used on the champion if he were the opponent. That led to some very heated wrestling which led to Ronon ripping the shirt from John’s back.

“Heeey, I really liked that shirt.”

“I’ll get you another one.” Ronon was on top of John, fiddling with John’s belt buckle.

“You can’t, it’s from Pink Floyd’s Division Bell tour in 1994.”

“Really?” Ronon had opened John’s fly and was now tugging at his jeans, trying to shove them down while he licked at John’s throat.

“Yeah, I got it at the concert. I got high… You don’t care, do you?”

“Nope.” Ronon pulled away just enough to tug his own shirt off over his head. He pressed his chest against John’s. “Are you gonna keep talking or are you gonna do something useful with that mouth?”

“I’m not the one with his pants still on,” John countered.

Ronon growled in annoyance as he rolled off of John, though John knew he couldn’t be too upset since he swiftly complied by raising his hips when John ordered, “Lift your butt.” John removed Ronon’s pants and pulled back to admire the view. Oh yes, this trip was definitely turning out to be a great idea.


John heard a grumble come from Ronon’s throat. “What do you think?” he asked. He’d seen a flicker of something cross Ronon’s face but he couldn’t clearly tell what it meant. “No, wait. Don’t tell me yet. I’ll be right back. You stay right there, okay?”

John left Ronon standing in the middle of the square as he ran to a shop nearby. He emerged a few minutes later wearing a hat that nearly had Ronon running for his life. John saw Ronon’s eyes widen and what might have been a small flash of horror darken his face.

“Well?” asked John expectantly.

“Your people worship giant rodents?”

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

“There are people practically climbing over each other with their children to gather around that giant rodent over there, and you’re wearing rodent ears!”

“They’re Mickey Mouse ears. They’re fun, everyone wears them here.”

“Where is here, exactly?”

“Disneyland. It’s The Happiest Place on Earth!”

“Earth must be damned miserable.”

“Why would you say that? This place is great!” John spread his arms wide. “Look around, all the people are smiling and trust me when I tell you, the children will never forget the memories they create here.”

“That’s too bad,” Ronon frowned, scanning the crowd again as he muttered, “It’s crowded and it’s hot.”

Not wanting to argue, John grabbed Ronon by the wrist and dragged him to what had been his favorite ride as a child, Pirates of the Caribbean.

John elbowed Ronon in the ribs as their tourist-filled boat emerged from the ride. “It’s over. Wake up. We’ll be disembarking soon.”

Ronon yawned and stretched. “That was relaxing. Can we ride it again?”

“No.”

“What? I had a nice nap.” Once the boat halted, Ronon stood and stepped out on the starboard side. “It was dark and the boat moved slowly, I got lulled to sleep. So what?”

“You were supposed to watch and enjoy the pirates.” John followed dejectedly.

“What pirates? Were we under attack?”

“You know what I mean,” John groused and pushed ahead of Ronon, emerging into the brightness from the dark amusement park attraction.

“Those weren’t pirates. Those were dolls. Dolls that sang. Trust me, it was better I took a nap. I nearly jumped ship.”

“They weren’t singing. There was music but they weren’t singing.”

“I heard singing.”

John grabbed Ronon by the arm, stopping him in the middle of New Orleans Square. “What’s so wrong with singing?”

“Pirates don’t sing.”

“Sure they do.”

“No. They don’t.” Ronon folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve met pirates and they don’t sing. I’ve been a pirate. I never sang.”

John, at a loss, took a brief glance around them and said, “Well, too bad for you. I bet you would’ve liked being a pirate more if you sang a little.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“I’m just saying, it’s your loss.”

Ronon only responded by glaring at John in that way that always made John shiver in a good way.

“How about another ride?”

“Will there be singing?”

“Probably.”

“No.”

“C’mon! You might enjoy it.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Even if it’s cute little bunnies doing the singing.”

“Especially then.”

“Scratch Splash Mountain.” John paused to think. “How about birds?”

Ronon glared at John.

“Who doesn’t love to hear the birdies sing?” John didn’t actually expect to get a response to that. “Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on hitting the Tiki Room anyway.” John raked his hand through his hair, thinking. “Okay, fine, I got it!” He dragged Ronon along, winding across Disneyland to the small handful of rides that did not have singing characters on them.

After exiting the Indiana Jones Adventure ride John asked Ronon, “Do you like puns?”

“No.”

“Skipping Jungle Cruise, then. Don’t want you strangling the driver.”

“Good idea.”

After several hours of touring the Happiest Place on Earth, John was hastily ushering Ronon out of the Disneyland Main Street Cinema. “Geez, you’re a tough crowd.”

“I was bored.”

“That was Steamboat Willie, it’s a classic!”

“It was boring. The drawing was only so-so and the jokes were obvious and you said there’d be no more singing.”

“That wasn’t singing. That was whistling.”

Ronon rolled his eyes in response.

“Okay, but you didn’t have to say it was crap in front of that family. They were having a good time.”

“You asked what I thought. I thought it was crap.”

John dragged his palm across his face. He was ready to admit defeat and concede that bringing Ronon to Disneyland had been a supremely bad idea.

“Is there nothing about today that you liked?”

“Sure there is. But the part of today I liked best is the next part.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about what happens when we get the hell out of here and back to our hotel room.”

John’s crestfallen expression perked up only slightly at the implication in Ronon’s response. “It’s just that… I kinda wanted you to see the fireworks.”

“Oh, there’ll be fireworks. I guarantee that.” Sensing that John might need a little more persuading, Ronon took John’s hand, yanked him close, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “There were lots of pictures of your rodent king in our room, right? You can imagine we’re here. I’ll even let you wear that hat.” Ronon gestured to the Mouseketeers Mickey ears hat John still wore.

“Really?”

“Really.” Ronon leaned in, placing his lips to John’s ear, “Don’t tell anyone but I like you with that hat on.”

John’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and arousal. “Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone I wore the damn thing. I might lose my rank.”

“I won’t have to. It’ll be obvious when everyone sees the picture you made us take with that giant duck.”



~the end~



~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~


Author’s Note part 2: Here are few links to the locations mentioned in the story, if you’re interested.
Alcatraz Island National Park Information
Alcatraz History
Fisherman's Warf
Hearst Castle
Moonstone Beach
Disneyland
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