Ne (
dontwantmeback) wrote2013-07-22 07:15 pm
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[SGA/Veronica Mars] Play Me A Melody (13/18)
Title: Play Me A Melody (13/18)
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2262 words
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Seven 1/2
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
John and Veronica flew back to Nashville in his plane. His plane, and he'd flown things he'd considered his before but nothing that actually was and as much as flying at all made him uncomfortable, after everything he'd been through in the air, after cashing, it was still a thrill to sit in a cockpit and feel the pull of gravity, that float of a smooth turn, and he knew he'd never be able to repay Veronica for that gift. Ronon was waiting with a car when they landed, and raised his eyebrows in surprise at the plane, asked John flat out when he started flying again and John just shrugged it off, explained it away by saying it was a gift. The subject was dropped and they were told instead that everyone at the label was losing it.
They'd pretty much expected that. Just like they'd expected it when they were ambushed by Teyla the moment they set foot into the office. John didn't think he'd ever seen her angry before, but she was absolutely livid, actually shouting at both of them for doing something so stupid and reckless, telling them how impossible they were making it for her to spin them in a way the label would accept. She was on their side, she insisted, and was happy for them, really, but they were stupid and complete maniacs and if they'd spoken to her before doing anything she could have at least been prepared.
Veronica apologised, and John thanked her for trying. But they didn't want her to have to spin it. There was absolutely no reason why Landry and the executives couldn't just shut up and accept that they were together, staying together, were apparently going to get married. They'd accept what was going to happen, were ready for it, and Teyla just announced she loved them both but they were making her crazy.
They were made to wait in the board room, sat at the end of the table and held hands while talking about music and flying and if they should paint the apartment. They didn't bother bringing up what they would do after today, after they were unceremoniously dropped from the label, probably wouldn't even get to see the album released. The upcoming appearances on every talk show John had ever heard of would be cancelled and eventually the world would forget them entirely. And that was okay. John had never meant to be famous anyway, always expected he'd be out of the game at some point and go back to just being a regular guy with a regular job, and while he wanted Veronica to stick with it, keep doing what she loved, he knew there was no way to talk her into staying with the label if they insisted on being so unsupportive.
An hour they waited, and just the one time, John was endlessly patient. He was in no rush to have himself cut off from his fans, to have it suddenly be impossible to do his favourite thing in the world and sit on a stage in front of them. When the row of men in sharp suits filed in, Veronica's hand tightened around his, and John squeezed hers right back, both of them sitting straight and calm.
"Do you have any idea the mess you've made?" Landry asked, no preamble.
"Can you just get to the part where you fire us already?" John wondered right back, mild. He was ignored.
"I understand John is used to making his own decisions, but Veronica, you know better. You cannot just accept an interview, especially one so obviously controversial, without clearing it through the office first. There were plans in place regarding the promotion of your album, and--"
"You mean the plans to make sure it didn't sell?" Veronica asked, sharp and angry, and she, too, was ignored.
"And now, I'm sure you understand, we're hesitant about even releasing it. Clearly the two of you can't be trusted to act like professionals. We've spoken to you twice before today about this situation and you've clearly decided against heeding this board's advice on the matter."
"You mean orders," John pointed out, again was ignored. This was a lecture, he realised, not a conversation.
"I'm afraid it's come to a point where you've left us no choice." No one noticed the door open and close softly, a new figure entering.
"So we're fired," Veronica supplied.
"If anyone's fired," Jack O'Neill was suddenly speaking up from beside the door, and John wasn't the only one startled by his appearance. He wasn't the hands-on kind of owner, and this was twice he'd gotten involved in the mess around John and Veronica's relationship. "It's going to have to be you, Hank."
Landry looked even more startled, looked flustered by the obvious threat. "Jack--"
"No, Hank," O'Neill cut in, and with a kind of purpose no one in John's generation of music had ever seen him have, strode across the room to stand behind the couple at the end of the table, resting his hands on their shoulders. "These two have made it abundantly clear that they're more than willing to give up on music all together if it comes to that, and you and I both know letting them go is the stupidest decision you could make. Someone else is going to scoop them and their music up before they even get home."
John realised that was entirely possible. It was an option neither he nor Veronica had thought of, leaving Stargate Records and signing on with somewhere new, a label that wouldn't care if they were together or not as long as they worked, and all the music they wrote would go with them. They had the intellectual rights to it, had designed every beat, just the two of them. They could make their own label and go bigger than ever before if that's what it took, and a quick glance beside him told John that Veronica had realised the same thing.
But O'Neill wasn't finished. "So what, they went behind your back and did that thing with the Swan woman. That was the best interview I've seen from anyone at this place in a long time, and the PR team tells me that they've never seen so much reaction. It's not even about who likes it or who doesn't; people know about them, people are going to listen to the radio and they're going to buy the album. So here's what we're going to do. You're going to shut up and leave these two alone. They're going to be an exception to your stupid rule about dating, which by the way says nothing about marrying so technically they're not even breaking that anymore, and I'm going to handle what happens next personally. Oh, and I'll be taking that woman in charge of PR to be their personal publicist. And I think that McKay guy -- did you guys like him? -- will manage them from here on out. Anyone who doesn't like it knows where the door is."
He pulled John and Veronica to their feet, stunned and confused but once again the meeting had gone better than expected, better than they could have ever hoped for and they'd escaped being dumped all because John had made a terrible, amazing move and kissed Veronica one night in Fergus Falls. They were escorted to another room, not knowing what to say or how to react, only that O'Neill was the boss of all the bosses. And when that door too closed, it was Jack, not John, that Veronica was hugging.
"Thank you, Uncle Jack."
And all over again, John was baffled. Sure, Veronica had mentioned her 'Uncle Jack' on a few occasions, may have even said he sometimes made a home in Nashville, but John never would have guessed her adopted uncle was Jack O'Neill of all people. The only thing that made the whole situation less ridiculous was that O'Neill looked entirely uncomfortable and awkward with being hugged, patting Veronica's back a few times before pushing her away.
"Don't mention it. I've talked to those idiots before about not getting too caught up in their rules. I should really just fire all of them; they don't seem to know the first thing about the entertainment business."
He sat them down, perched on the table beside them, and asked them how they wanted to do things. John wondered, as he explained that he loved working with Veronica but didn't want to completely give up his solo career, why O'Neill didn't just run the label himself. He was so much more approachable , knowledgeable, better at listening to his talent than anyone on the board. John knew enough about business that he knew Landry and his team of suits were digging themselves a whole that could potentially ruin the label, and maybe that was their plan but obviously O'Neill wasn't going to just let that happen. That had to be why he stepped in for them, not just because he was close to Veronica.
So they talked about where they were going. Veronica agreed with John, didn't want to give up being a solo artist but was more than happy to spend half her time working together, liked the music they made together. O'Neill said he thought their duets represented them both better, but was fine with whatever they wanted, announced he'd get Teyla to do what she could with the scheduled appearances to make sure they could both be on the air as often as possible, though it would be impossible to make it one hundred percent. But that was okay, because the rest of the time they could talk about each other, and everyone would know they were still together, and that was important to John. And it was important to sales.
O'Neill wondered if Veronica would be relocating permanently to Nashville, or if they would be working out of the satellite office in LA, and John realised that she'd just never gone back home. They hadn't discussed her staying, it had never come up; they'd just all of a sudden lived together and John had never thought that her home wasn't where his was. Veronica answered without pause that she'd stay in Nashville, unless they decided later that they wanted to move out to California.
Later, at home, sitting on the balcony John actually asked: "Why did you never go home?"
And Veronica shrugged. "I never wanted to."
The answer was good enough and John relaxed back, drumming a lazy beat with his fingers, and Veronica picked up the old guitar John and called hers and played along with it, slow and stumbling, hesitating between chords and checking her fingers with John looking on. He didn't help, though he smiled, amused, when she made a mistake, occasionally asked what she was trying to get at when she played something that wasn't anything. It was quiet, relaxed, comfortable, and completely impossible for two people who had left that morning expecting to have nothing by then. It was an absolute miracle they'd come out with work at all, forget better than they'd had going in. John still wasn't sure how it had happened, could only guess that there was some greater power that he didn't even really believe in anymore watching over them.
He took a picture of Veronica playing and put it on his twitter thing while she wasn't paying attention. Nothing written with it, just the photo, but it was a nice one as far as he could tell. The guitar he'd used before his debut, her engagement ring there against the neck, forehead scrunched in concentration and her hair falling behind her. It was the kind of scene people would put on an album cover, if playing was part of what she did. It made him smile, and he got frowned at for being cryptic about why when she asked.
He stayed up that night, hours after Veronica went to bed, leaving him orders not to stay up late, writing again. Less to sort out his feeling than ever before, more because he just wanted to write. He ended up falling asleep on the couch, and woke up when Veronica waved a cup of coffee under his nose.
"What were you working on all night?" she asked when he roused.
"I'm not sure yet," he answered groggily, and with a strange sort of self-consciousness put the half-finished lyrics away without sharing them. It was lucky for him it was early enough that Veronica didn't care , or that she didn't notice the behaviour, and she didn't ask. He wasn't ready to share whatever it was yet, knew she would understand if he just said that, but was glad he didn't have to.
She gave him a look all the same, the kind of look that made it clear she wanted him to tell her when he figured it out, and John just smiled and turned on the TV, bypassing channels and channels of news and turning on cartoons instead. Veronica laughed and informed him he was a child, kissed him quickly and announced she had to get to a meeting. And John stayed right where he was while she got ready, while she came back to kiss him again and say goodbye, and the moment she was out the door he fished out the scraps of paper he'd been writing on again and wondered if he'd found a way to answer the plane.
Part Fourteen
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2262 words
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Seven 1/2
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
John and Veronica flew back to Nashville in his plane. His plane, and he'd flown things he'd considered his before but nothing that actually was and as much as flying at all made him uncomfortable, after everything he'd been through in the air, after cashing, it was still a thrill to sit in a cockpit and feel the pull of gravity, that float of a smooth turn, and he knew he'd never be able to repay Veronica for that gift. Ronon was waiting with a car when they landed, and raised his eyebrows in surprise at the plane, asked John flat out when he started flying again and John just shrugged it off, explained it away by saying it was a gift. The subject was dropped and they were told instead that everyone at the label was losing it.
They'd pretty much expected that. Just like they'd expected it when they were ambushed by Teyla the moment they set foot into the office. John didn't think he'd ever seen her angry before, but she was absolutely livid, actually shouting at both of them for doing something so stupid and reckless, telling them how impossible they were making it for her to spin them in a way the label would accept. She was on their side, she insisted, and was happy for them, really, but they were stupid and complete maniacs and if they'd spoken to her before doing anything she could have at least been prepared.
Veronica apologised, and John thanked her for trying. But they didn't want her to have to spin it. There was absolutely no reason why Landry and the executives couldn't just shut up and accept that they were together, staying together, were apparently going to get married. They'd accept what was going to happen, were ready for it, and Teyla just announced she loved them both but they were making her crazy.
They were made to wait in the board room, sat at the end of the table and held hands while talking about music and flying and if they should paint the apartment. They didn't bother bringing up what they would do after today, after they were unceremoniously dropped from the label, probably wouldn't even get to see the album released. The upcoming appearances on every talk show John had ever heard of would be cancelled and eventually the world would forget them entirely. And that was okay. John had never meant to be famous anyway, always expected he'd be out of the game at some point and go back to just being a regular guy with a regular job, and while he wanted Veronica to stick with it, keep doing what she loved, he knew there was no way to talk her into staying with the label if they insisted on being so unsupportive.
An hour they waited, and just the one time, John was endlessly patient. He was in no rush to have himself cut off from his fans, to have it suddenly be impossible to do his favourite thing in the world and sit on a stage in front of them. When the row of men in sharp suits filed in, Veronica's hand tightened around his, and John squeezed hers right back, both of them sitting straight and calm.
"Do you have any idea the mess you've made?" Landry asked, no preamble.
"Can you just get to the part where you fire us already?" John wondered right back, mild. He was ignored.
"I understand John is used to making his own decisions, but Veronica, you know better. You cannot just accept an interview, especially one so obviously controversial, without clearing it through the office first. There were plans in place regarding the promotion of your album, and--"
"You mean the plans to make sure it didn't sell?" Veronica asked, sharp and angry, and she, too, was ignored.
"And now, I'm sure you understand, we're hesitant about even releasing it. Clearly the two of you can't be trusted to act like professionals. We've spoken to you twice before today about this situation and you've clearly decided against heeding this board's advice on the matter."
"You mean orders," John pointed out, again was ignored. This was a lecture, he realised, not a conversation.
"I'm afraid it's come to a point where you've left us no choice." No one noticed the door open and close softly, a new figure entering.
"So we're fired," Veronica supplied.
"If anyone's fired," Jack O'Neill was suddenly speaking up from beside the door, and John wasn't the only one startled by his appearance. He wasn't the hands-on kind of owner, and this was twice he'd gotten involved in the mess around John and Veronica's relationship. "It's going to have to be you, Hank."
Landry looked even more startled, looked flustered by the obvious threat. "Jack--"
"No, Hank," O'Neill cut in, and with a kind of purpose no one in John's generation of music had ever seen him have, strode across the room to stand behind the couple at the end of the table, resting his hands on their shoulders. "These two have made it abundantly clear that they're more than willing to give up on music all together if it comes to that, and you and I both know letting them go is the stupidest decision you could make. Someone else is going to scoop them and their music up before they even get home."
John realised that was entirely possible. It was an option neither he nor Veronica had thought of, leaving Stargate Records and signing on with somewhere new, a label that wouldn't care if they were together or not as long as they worked, and all the music they wrote would go with them. They had the intellectual rights to it, had designed every beat, just the two of them. They could make their own label and go bigger than ever before if that's what it took, and a quick glance beside him told John that Veronica had realised the same thing.
But O'Neill wasn't finished. "So what, they went behind your back and did that thing with the Swan woman. That was the best interview I've seen from anyone at this place in a long time, and the PR team tells me that they've never seen so much reaction. It's not even about who likes it or who doesn't; people know about them, people are going to listen to the radio and they're going to buy the album. So here's what we're going to do. You're going to shut up and leave these two alone. They're going to be an exception to your stupid rule about dating, which by the way says nothing about marrying so technically they're not even breaking that anymore, and I'm going to handle what happens next personally. Oh, and I'll be taking that woman in charge of PR to be their personal publicist. And I think that McKay guy -- did you guys like him? -- will manage them from here on out. Anyone who doesn't like it knows where the door is."
He pulled John and Veronica to their feet, stunned and confused but once again the meeting had gone better than expected, better than they could have ever hoped for and they'd escaped being dumped all because John had made a terrible, amazing move and kissed Veronica one night in Fergus Falls. They were escorted to another room, not knowing what to say or how to react, only that O'Neill was the boss of all the bosses. And when that door too closed, it was Jack, not John, that Veronica was hugging.
"Thank you, Uncle Jack."
And all over again, John was baffled. Sure, Veronica had mentioned her 'Uncle Jack' on a few occasions, may have even said he sometimes made a home in Nashville, but John never would have guessed her adopted uncle was Jack O'Neill of all people. The only thing that made the whole situation less ridiculous was that O'Neill looked entirely uncomfortable and awkward with being hugged, patting Veronica's back a few times before pushing her away.
"Don't mention it. I've talked to those idiots before about not getting too caught up in their rules. I should really just fire all of them; they don't seem to know the first thing about the entertainment business."
He sat them down, perched on the table beside them, and asked them how they wanted to do things. John wondered, as he explained that he loved working with Veronica but didn't want to completely give up his solo career, why O'Neill didn't just run the label himself. He was so much more approachable , knowledgeable, better at listening to his talent than anyone on the board. John knew enough about business that he knew Landry and his team of suits were digging themselves a whole that could potentially ruin the label, and maybe that was their plan but obviously O'Neill wasn't going to just let that happen. That had to be why he stepped in for them, not just because he was close to Veronica.
So they talked about where they were going. Veronica agreed with John, didn't want to give up being a solo artist but was more than happy to spend half her time working together, liked the music they made together. O'Neill said he thought their duets represented them both better, but was fine with whatever they wanted, announced he'd get Teyla to do what she could with the scheduled appearances to make sure they could both be on the air as often as possible, though it would be impossible to make it one hundred percent. But that was okay, because the rest of the time they could talk about each other, and everyone would know they were still together, and that was important to John. And it was important to sales.
O'Neill wondered if Veronica would be relocating permanently to Nashville, or if they would be working out of the satellite office in LA, and John realised that she'd just never gone back home. They hadn't discussed her staying, it had never come up; they'd just all of a sudden lived together and John had never thought that her home wasn't where his was. Veronica answered without pause that she'd stay in Nashville, unless they decided later that they wanted to move out to California.
Later, at home, sitting on the balcony John actually asked: "Why did you never go home?"
And Veronica shrugged. "I never wanted to."
The answer was good enough and John relaxed back, drumming a lazy beat with his fingers, and Veronica picked up the old guitar John and called hers and played along with it, slow and stumbling, hesitating between chords and checking her fingers with John looking on. He didn't help, though he smiled, amused, when she made a mistake, occasionally asked what she was trying to get at when she played something that wasn't anything. It was quiet, relaxed, comfortable, and completely impossible for two people who had left that morning expecting to have nothing by then. It was an absolute miracle they'd come out with work at all, forget better than they'd had going in. John still wasn't sure how it had happened, could only guess that there was some greater power that he didn't even really believe in anymore watching over them.
He took a picture of Veronica playing and put it on his twitter thing while she wasn't paying attention. Nothing written with it, just the photo, but it was a nice one as far as he could tell. The guitar he'd used before his debut, her engagement ring there against the neck, forehead scrunched in concentration and her hair falling behind her. It was the kind of scene people would put on an album cover, if playing was part of what she did. It made him smile, and he got frowned at for being cryptic about why when she asked.
He stayed up that night, hours after Veronica went to bed, leaving him orders not to stay up late, writing again. Less to sort out his feeling than ever before, more because he just wanted to write. He ended up falling asleep on the couch, and woke up when Veronica waved a cup of coffee under his nose.
"What were you working on all night?" she asked when he roused.
"I'm not sure yet," he answered groggily, and with a strange sort of self-consciousness put the half-finished lyrics away without sharing them. It was lucky for him it was early enough that Veronica didn't care , or that she didn't notice the behaviour, and she didn't ask. He wasn't ready to share whatever it was yet, knew she would understand if he just said that, but was glad he didn't have to.
She gave him a look all the same, the kind of look that made it clear she wanted him to tell her when he figured it out, and John just smiled and turned on the TV, bypassing channels and channels of news and turning on cartoons instead. Veronica laughed and informed him he was a child, kissed him quickly and announced she had to get to a meeting. And John stayed right where he was while she got ready, while she came back to kiss him again and say goodbye, and the moment she was out the door he fished out the scraps of paper he'd been writing on again and wondered if he'd found a way to answer the plane.
Part Fourteen