![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dontwantmebackTitle: Play Me A Melody (7/18)
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2331 words
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Sleeping with Veronica, in every sense of the word, was a mistake. John knew that with everything he was. It broke every rule that was his and more than a few that weren't. But the worst part was he found himself wanting to do it again, and that really wasn't good. So he took to hiding out in public areas of the B&B come morning, working on a song that wasn't for both of them but was entirely his own and talking music with the guy who owned the place, who didn't play at all but had more than a little country in him, along with something oddly familiar; they got along well. It wasn't that he didn't trust himself to be alone with Veronica anymore, though that was certainly part of it, John just really didn't want to discuss what had happened, hoped avoiding her would get him out of what he thought was an inevitable conversation.
They tried working again come evening, and managed it for about an hour before they were suddenly, uncontrollably, all over one another again. John's guitar got knocked around and out of tune in the process and he didn't notice until the next day, when the interstate was open again and they were back on the bus and driving as fast as weather would allow to make postponed concert. He made sure to grumble about it as he put it right, annoyingly difficult over the rumble of the bus and Rodney's incessant whining about how the layover was going to cost them sleeping in a hotel more than once, going to end up pushing back the next two shows as well, before they could get back on schedule. There would be thousands of empty seats across the three venues, thousands of dollars in revenue lost, and after about an hour John snapped and informed him that didn't matter to them.
Veronica chimed in and diplomatically bridged the gap, explaining that they understood the label cared about the financials, but as performers they were more concerned about the fans they were disappointing.
They didn't talk about what happened. They played St. Paul, and made out backstage between the show and the encore, right there behind the curtains where the band could see them if they happened to look. And even if they'd wanted to exchange anything beyond a customary 'good work', it would have been impossible. The second they cleared the stage, band members on their heels, Veronica was whisked away by the girls, who leaned in close and talked quickly and in loud whispers that were drowned out by the noise of the crowd leaving. John hardly had a moment to blink after them before Kemp's arm was suddenly around his shoulders and Markham was taking his guitar out of his hand, both men giving him a look that screamed they knew what happened.
"What the hell happened while you were snowed in?" Kemp wondered, laughter in his voice.
And John evaded. "Stuff."
"You suck at hiding it," Markham did laugh. "We all saw what happened behind the curtain."
John shrugged out of the arm and snatched his guitar back with a scowl, slinging the instrument over his back. "Well, keep it to yourselves, then."
They backed off. It wasn't like John to be short with his band; he was always friendly and even on his worst days kept his sharp words under wraps. He didn't even know why the guys bringing it up annoyed him the way it did, but they got the message and let him return to the bus alone, let him take up with his guitar in one of the bunks in the back, something he usually saved for having a bad day, an angry day, the kind of day regular people always imagined war veterans having and he hadn't actually had one of those in years and this wasn't one at all; John didn't know what it was. He heard concern in his friends voices as they talked quietly, heard Ronon ask what the hell they'd done, heard them stopping Rodney from going back there, stopping Alicia and Dusty, and having to try a lot harder to stop Veronica too.
It was his bodyguard who eventually came back, fairly late at night after John had put his guitar aside and the others had all gone to sleep, somewhere near the end of the road to Madison. He didn't say anything, just opened the curtains around the bunk that John had closed earlier and gestured for him to come up front. Reluctantly, sighing, John followed, and the two of them just sat there at the front of the bus, the only other person awake Teal'c, who was too busy driving to care what they were doing.
"So?" was all Ronon said when they settled, and John shrugged, not needing an explanation as to what his companion wanted.
"I don't know. It's just...dangerous, I guess. For our careers."
"Doesn't explain your mood."
"I can't even explain that," John chuckled. "The boys cornered me after the show and I just snapped at them."
"They think you're having one of your days." Ronon hadn't even been around back in the days when John got truly angry at absolutely nothing, when all the emotion he poured into his lyrics got too much to handle, overwhelmed him and drove him to solitude when it was impossible to get it. "Put a stop to it if it's going to do that to you."
He didn't have to add that it was going to put a rift between John and the people he trusted most if it was going to keep up like it had since the show ended, if he was going to be irrationally angry at them for being his friends. John just sighed again. "I get the point. But I don't know if I can."
The look Ronon gave him then was understanding of all the things John wasn't even sure he thought. That he honestly liked Veronica, maybe for more than just adrenaline-filled kissing and sex when they could. Maybe a friend, with benefits, or maybe it was leading up to something else entirely and that scared him. Whatever it was, she brought out something miraculously teenaged in him, made it so she was the only thing he could think about sometimes, when she looked at him a certain way or when she smiled or when the note she sang sounded just a little too much like her voice during sex.
John wasn't the sort who believed in overnight romances, or any of that soul mate nonsense, but he got the feeling people who did would accuse them of that sort of relationship, and over the next few days, through the next few shows, John started to wonder if there was some truth to it all after all. He wouldn't say he was in love with Veronica, wouldn't ever even think it, not so soon after having met her; it had only been about six months. That didn't mean there wasn't something, that there couldn't be something else, and as they finished their show in Trenton, New Jersey, having caught up on days on the road and back on the tour's schedule, John seriously wondered if he could put a stop to whatever it was they were doing, even if he'd wanted to.
He doubted it. With the way he and Veronica were sneaking in and out of one another's hotel rooms whenever they stopped for the night, sometimes twice if they had they didn't have to be on the road again early. With the way they ducked out of the band room before shows for some last minute 'song meetings' that were more making out and feeling each other up than any talk at all. With the way they stayed behind, sitting on the edge of the stage long after the concerts ended, legs kicking and hands joined, talking animatedly about the show and what they were going to do next. All of which John did without a thought, without a moment to hesitate.
They sat side by side on the bus, shoulder to shoulder, trading notebooks of intensely personal lyrics back and forth, making marks and changes without even glancing at one another. Sharing the most intimate part of themselves without a thought, trusting one another to take the words and turn them into something worth sharing. And if they had an evening free, they would sit together outside the bus and John taught Veronica to play guitar. If she kept at it, John said on more than one occasion, she'd be good enough to showcase her new talent by the time they got back to the west coast.
Frankfort, Kentucky was the site of yet another terrible decision. The show had been early and they all took what was left of the evening after the parking lot had cleared out to sit around in pilfered folding chairs, playing music despite the persistent winter cold and singing their favourite songs, drinking beer and even Rodney put down his tablet and joined them. After a good hour's worth of nagging. It wasn't yet March though and when snow started to fall Veronica was the first to call it a night and retreat to the warmth of the bus. And amidst amused and knowing looks, John announced not long later that he was going to. He should have gone to the other bus, because all it took was the few seconds alone, with Veronica half undressed for bed and John was all over her again. With their band outside still playing and laughing and the one guy who could get them in serious trouble likely to come in at any moment, and none of that stopped them from toppling onto one of the couches and peeling out of their clothes as quickly as possible.
John could hear when Ronon and Teal'c came by, didn't come in but apparently seemed to notice what was going on and instead took up waiting outside. And the next thing he knew there was Rodney's voice, demanding to be let in, it was cold and he had important work to get done. He made the mistake of assuming their bodyguards would guard them from Rodney too, but without even a token refusal they stood aside. John and Veronica didn't even have a moment's chance to pull apart, straighten up or even get their underwear back on, because with a gust of freezing air across their heated skin, the door opened and Rodney stepped up into the bus. His eyes went wide, almost raging, and he sputtered.
The pair separated with a shared look of 'oops', gathered up their discarded clothes and scuttled to bed without a word. Anything they said would only make it worse, they knew, and there would be no point in denying something like it hadn't happened before. Rodney was a smart man, a brilliant man, and would have put their behaviour over the last while together the second he saw them and come to the correct conclusion.
He didn't say anything to them the next morning, but Veronica punched Teal'c in the arm, none too lightly, and John complained that Ronon was the worst bodyguard ever.
"Didn't know your body was in danger," was all Ronon had to say to that, and John wanted to hit him but instead remarked that he should get someone new.
They made a detour into Nashville, a break long enough that John could go home and get his mail, and a pile of music to hand over to the executives at the label headquarters, a meeting with Woolsey to discuss recording the album. They each had their opinions about which songs should be included and knew the label would probably hate them all; it would be a battle, but they'd been promoting the potential album on stage since the tour started, including what songs would likely be included, so that ought to have given them some pull.
When they got to the meeting though, all smiles and optimism for the future, it wasn't Woolsey making them wait but was instead Landry himself with a handful of the biggest executives waiting on them instead. John didn't need to ask to know what was coming.
"We've heard some disturbing news from Mr. McKay," Landry said simply when the pair sat opposite the waiting group at that long glass table.
"What news?" Veronica asked, going for innocent though she had to know it was too late for that. John did. So he took her hand and put them both on the table without a word, lacing his fingers through hers the only statement he made.
"I think it's fairly obvious," Landry answered among murmuring from the other executives. "And you should both know, after being with us for so long, our opinions and policies on our talent becoming involved."
"We're hardly involved. Sex is hardly involved," Veronica scoffed, and John ducked his head to hide his smile. Because she was right, they weren't involved. The closest thing they had to dating was sitting around in cold parking lots singing with their friends, or sitting on the edges of stages.
"And we've been so busy it's hardly even that," he added with a shrug meant to seem mild.
"And yet here you are, holding hands on the table of our board room." Landry seemed more amused than actually angry with them. "I have heard that whatever relationship you two have formed has been good for your work, and your performances. So we're willing to let it go for the time being. You will, though, have put an end to it by the time you're back here at the end of your tour."
They didn't need to look at one another to understand the implications, and like everything else about what they had, it was without a thought that their hands came apart.
Part Seven 1/2
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2331 words
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Sleeping with Veronica, in every sense of the word, was a mistake. John knew that with everything he was. It broke every rule that was his and more than a few that weren't. But the worst part was he found himself wanting to do it again, and that really wasn't good. So he took to hiding out in public areas of the B&B come morning, working on a song that wasn't for both of them but was entirely his own and talking music with the guy who owned the place, who didn't play at all but had more than a little country in him, along with something oddly familiar; they got along well. It wasn't that he didn't trust himself to be alone with Veronica anymore, though that was certainly part of it, John just really didn't want to discuss what had happened, hoped avoiding her would get him out of what he thought was an inevitable conversation.
They tried working again come evening, and managed it for about an hour before they were suddenly, uncontrollably, all over one another again. John's guitar got knocked around and out of tune in the process and he didn't notice until the next day, when the interstate was open again and they were back on the bus and driving as fast as weather would allow to make postponed concert. He made sure to grumble about it as he put it right, annoyingly difficult over the rumble of the bus and Rodney's incessant whining about how the layover was going to cost them sleeping in a hotel more than once, going to end up pushing back the next two shows as well, before they could get back on schedule. There would be thousands of empty seats across the three venues, thousands of dollars in revenue lost, and after about an hour John snapped and informed him that didn't matter to them.
Veronica chimed in and diplomatically bridged the gap, explaining that they understood the label cared about the financials, but as performers they were more concerned about the fans they were disappointing.
They didn't talk about what happened. They played St. Paul, and made out backstage between the show and the encore, right there behind the curtains where the band could see them if they happened to look. And even if they'd wanted to exchange anything beyond a customary 'good work', it would have been impossible. The second they cleared the stage, band members on their heels, Veronica was whisked away by the girls, who leaned in close and talked quickly and in loud whispers that were drowned out by the noise of the crowd leaving. John hardly had a moment to blink after them before Kemp's arm was suddenly around his shoulders and Markham was taking his guitar out of his hand, both men giving him a look that screamed they knew what happened.
"What the hell happened while you were snowed in?" Kemp wondered, laughter in his voice.
And John evaded. "Stuff."
"You suck at hiding it," Markham did laugh. "We all saw what happened behind the curtain."
John shrugged out of the arm and snatched his guitar back with a scowl, slinging the instrument over his back. "Well, keep it to yourselves, then."
They backed off. It wasn't like John to be short with his band; he was always friendly and even on his worst days kept his sharp words under wraps. He didn't even know why the guys bringing it up annoyed him the way it did, but they got the message and let him return to the bus alone, let him take up with his guitar in one of the bunks in the back, something he usually saved for having a bad day, an angry day, the kind of day regular people always imagined war veterans having and he hadn't actually had one of those in years and this wasn't one at all; John didn't know what it was. He heard concern in his friends voices as they talked quietly, heard Ronon ask what the hell they'd done, heard them stopping Rodney from going back there, stopping Alicia and Dusty, and having to try a lot harder to stop Veronica too.
It was his bodyguard who eventually came back, fairly late at night after John had put his guitar aside and the others had all gone to sleep, somewhere near the end of the road to Madison. He didn't say anything, just opened the curtains around the bunk that John had closed earlier and gestured for him to come up front. Reluctantly, sighing, John followed, and the two of them just sat there at the front of the bus, the only other person awake Teal'c, who was too busy driving to care what they were doing.
"So?" was all Ronon said when they settled, and John shrugged, not needing an explanation as to what his companion wanted.
"I don't know. It's just...dangerous, I guess. For our careers."
"Doesn't explain your mood."
"I can't even explain that," John chuckled. "The boys cornered me after the show and I just snapped at them."
"They think you're having one of your days." Ronon hadn't even been around back in the days when John got truly angry at absolutely nothing, when all the emotion he poured into his lyrics got too much to handle, overwhelmed him and drove him to solitude when it was impossible to get it. "Put a stop to it if it's going to do that to you."
He didn't have to add that it was going to put a rift between John and the people he trusted most if it was going to keep up like it had since the show ended, if he was going to be irrationally angry at them for being his friends. John just sighed again. "I get the point. But I don't know if I can."
The look Ronon gave him then was understanding of all the things John wasn't even sure he thought. That he honestly liked Veronica, maybe for more than just adrenaline-filled kissing and sex when they could. Maybe a friend, with benefits, or maybe it was leading up to something else entirely and that scared him. Whatever it was, she brought out something miraculously teenaged in him, made it so she was the only thing he could think about sometimes, when she looked at him a certain way or when she smiled or when the note she sang sounded just a little too much like her voice during sex.
John wasn't the sort who believed in overnight romances, or any of that soul mate nonsense, but he got the feeling people who did would accuse them of that sort of relationship, and over the next few days, through the next few shows, John started to wonder if there was some truth to it all after all. He wouldn't say he was in love with Veronica, wouldn't ever even think it, not so soon after having met her; it had only been about six months. That didn't mean there wasn't something, that there couldn't be something else, and as they finished their show in Trenton, New Jersey, having caught up on days on the road and back on the tour's schedule, John seriously wondered if he could put a stop to whatever it was they were doing, even if he'd wanted to.
He doubted it. With the way he and Veronica were sneaking in and out of one another's hotel rooms whenever they stopped for the night, sometimes twice if they had they didn't have to be on the road again early. With the way they ducked out of the band room before shows for some last minute 'song meetings' that were more making out and feeling each other up than any talk at all. With the way they stayed behind, sitting on the edge of the stage long after the concerts ended, legs kicking and hands joined, talking animatedly about the show and what they were going to do next. All of which John did without a thought, without a moment to hesitate.
They sat side by side on the bus, shoulder to shoulder, trading notebooks of intensely personal lyrics back and forth, making marks and changes without even glancing at one another. Sharing the most intimate part of themselves without a thought, trusting one another to take the words and turn them into something worth sharing. And if they had an evening free, they would sit together outside the bus and John taught Veronica to play guitar. If she kept at it, John said on more than one occasion, she'd be good enough to showcase her new talent by the time they got back to the west coast.
Frankfort, Kentucky was the site of yet another terrible decision. The show had been early and they all took what was left of the evening after the parking lot had cleared out to sit around in pilfered folding chairs, playing music despite the persistent winter cold and singing their favourite songs, drinking beer and even Rodney put down his tablet and joined them. After a good hour's worth of nagging. It wasn't yet March though and when snow started to fall Veronica was the first to call it a night and retreat to the warmth of the bus. And amidst amused and knowing looks, John announced not long later that he was going to. He should have gone to the other bus, because all it took was the few seconds alone, with Veronica half undressed for bed and John was all over her again. With their band outside still playing and laughing and the one guy who could get them in serious trouble likely to come in at any moment, and none of that stopped them from toppling onto one of the couches and peeling out of their clothes as quickly as possible.
John could hear when Ronon and Teal'c came by, didn't come in but apparently seemed to notice what was going on and instead took up waiting outside. And the next thing he knew there was Rodney's voice, demanding to be let in, it was cold and he had important work to get done. He made the mistake of assuming their bodyguards would guard them from Rodney too, but without even a token refusal they stood aside. John and Veronica didn't even have a moment's chance to pull apart, straighten up or even get their underwear back on, because with a gust of freezing air across their heated skin, the door opened and Rodney stepped up into the bus. His eyes went wide, almost raging, and he sputtered.
The pair separated with a shared look of 'oops', gathered up their discarded clothes and scuttled to bed without a word. Anything they said would only make it worse, they knew, and there would be no point in denying something like it hadn't happened before. Rodney was a smart man, a brilliant man, and would have put their behaviour over the last while together the second he saw them and come to the correct conclusion.
He didn't say anything to them the next morning, but Veronica punched Teal'c in the arm, none too lightly, and John complained that Ronon was the worst bodyguard ever.
"Didn't know your body was in danger," was all Ronon had to say to that, and John wanted to hit him but instead remarked that he should get someone new.
They made a detour into Nashville, a break long enough that John could go home and get his mail, and a pile of music to hand over to the executives at the label headquarters, a meeting with Woolsey to discuss recording the album. They each had their opinions about which songs should be included and knew the label would probably hate them all; it would be a battle, but they'd been promoting the potential album on stage since the tour started, including what songs would likely be included, so that ought to have given them some pull.
When they got to the meeting though, all smiles and optimism for the future, it wasn't Woolsey making them wait but was instead Landry himself with a handful of the biggest executives waiting on them instead. John didn't need to ask to know what was coming.
"We've heard some disturbing news from Mr. McKay," Landry said simply when the pair sat opposite the waiting group at that long glass table.
"What news?" Veronica asked, going for innocent though she had to know it was too late for that. John did. So he took her hand and put them both on the table without a word, lacing his fingers through hers the only statement he made.
"I think it's fairly obvious," Landry answered among murmuring from the other executives. "And you should both know, after being with us for so long, our opinions and policies on our talent becoming involved."
"We're hardly involved. Sex is hardly involved," Veronica scoffed, and John ducked his head to hide his smile. Because she was right, they weren't involved. The closest thing they had to dating was sitting around in cold parking lots singing with their friends, or sitting on the edges of stages.
"And we've been so busy it's hardly even that," he added with a shrug meant to seem mild.
"And yet here you are, holding hands on the table of our board room." Landry seemed more amused than actually angry with them. "I have heard that whatever relationship you two have formed has been good for your work, and your performances. So we're willing to let it go for the time being. You will, though, have put an end to it by the time you're back here at the end of your tour."
They didn't need to look at one another to understand the implications, and like everything else about what they had, it was without a thought that their hands came apart.
Part Seven 1/2