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dontwantmebackTitle: Play Me A Melody (14/18)
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: John Sheppard/Veronica Mars
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2180 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
Part Thirteen
They drove out west to LA at the start of the next week, moving into Veronica's place while they were there, and it was a good thing she'd kept it. With the amount of back and forth travel they would have it was probably best to have a place there anyway. They would stay until the album was released, probably a while after as well if Teyla had anything to say about it, appearing on every entertainment talk show possible. It had been arranged incredibly strategically, Teyla had explained when her plane landed and she met them at the house; their individual appearances would sandwich the ones they did together, so they could double up and do the shows again at the end, get the maximum exposure. She'd been head of her department for a reason.
So they made their appearances, filming once every few days. John chatted with middle aged women on daytime shows, smiling an intentionally flirtatious smile and letting them touch his arm for the camera, and Veronica made suggestive comments and played ridiculous games with late night hosts. A month before the album was set to released they showed up together on all the most popular shows, played their songs, and when the album came out and the week following they started it all again in mirror. Veronica sat with women and discussed their relationship, told the story of how John proposed out of nowhere, showed off her ring, and John let himself be ridiculous for the shows that aired in the middle of the night, laughed through his agreement to comments that his fiancée was hot and he was probably the luckiest guy in music.
They got a look at the first week of sales before they left. Thousands more than they'd anticipated, the highest first week of sales either of them had ever seen. It was an impossible result to all the trouble they'd put themselves through, unheard of from people who only just more than a year ago had been total strangers. The impressive numbers were plastered all over the entertainment news the entire trip home.
John locked himself in the studio when they got to Nashville with his guitar and a pile of half-finished songs, told everyone he was working on something new and it wasn't a lie. He was, just didn't know exactly what to make of it yet, wanted to get some time alone to feel his way through it and time alone wasn't something he'd actually had since he and Veronica had been forced together. They'd worked and worked and worked and fallen into each other, been basically joined at the hip the whole way along and John was a solitary man by nature. Veronica was great about giving him his space, and he was happy to give her hers in return, but it was a different thing to get out of the apartment and behind a closed door where he could just sit and work on his music.
Veronica came by on the fifth day of his hiding out, poking her head in the door and asking quietly if she could talk to him. And since he wasn't hiding from her so much as he was hiding from life, he smiled and set his guitar inside, inviting her in. She didn't sit beside him where she might have a few days before, instead perching on the low table in front of him and watching him evenly.
"Is something going on?" she asked him flat out, and he appreciated that she didn't wander around the question.
"Nothing comes to mind," he answered, truthfully because retreating to the studio for days on end to work, emerging only to eat and sleep, wasn't exactly unusual for him. Particularly when there was something about what he was working on that bothered him.
"Okay. Because you've been in here not talking to anyone for days and I was getting kind of worried. I mean, I know we don't really talk about things like that but if something's wrong, you...I'll listen if you want to."
"Nothing's wrong. I just..." he trailed off with a shrug. It wasn't like he could just say to her that he wanted some time away, because that wasn't right at all. But John wasn't good at talking, wasn't good at expressing himself unless it was through music and he couldn't get those words right either. So he didn't finish the thought, just made a vague hand gesture that he hoped she would understand.
"You're not having second thoughts or anything are you?" Veronica asked, all strangely unsettling insecurity, the way she touched her ring probably less conscious than it looked. "Because if you are, that's something you should definitely be telling me."
John couldn't help chuckling, leaning over and catching her hands. "I'm not," he assured, and of course she didn't know this wasn't unusual. She'd only ever known him on tour. "I should have said something. This is kind of what I do when I'm stuck and, you know, don't take this the wrong way or anything but we've been attached at the hip since pretty much the day we met. Just wanted to be alone for a while. I'm not really used to...stuff."
"Okay. Just checking."
He understood why; after all the trouble they'd caused for themselves, all the enemies they'd made at the label, after a very public proposal of sorts, it would all seem like a big waste if they weren't sure. They'd put everything on the line and very nearly put an end to their careers, because the more he thought about it the more he was sure no other label would want them knowing they couldn't play the game, and it would all be for nothing if they weren't absolutely positive they wanted to be together. Obviously Veronica knew that too, and John's sudden and unannounced absence from everything must have been alarming. But he couldn't help wondering if didn't mean they were moving a little on the fast side; for all they had talked, it had mostly been in a work setting, and so much of it about their songs or the tour. It seemed like they hardly knew one another outside of that.
They were going to get married, John was sure of that. This was a woman he wanted to marry, but he didn't want to fall into some celebrity cliché of getting married quick and ending up quietly divorced a year or two later. He thought maybe they should get to know one another a little better, and sooner rather than later.
"Hey," he announced, seemingly out of nowhere, "I know we just went to Mexico a couple months back, but what do you think of taking some time off to just hang out?"
"Right now?" It was ridiculous to suggest doing it now, and Veronica's face made that abundantly clear. "The album just came out not even two weeks ago."
They still had to be available for radio slots and musical appearances, at least a while longer, while the album was still new. "No, not now. Next month or something. Soon. When things quiet down a bit."
She paused, looked at him for a moment, probably confused by his sudden suggestion, then nodded. "Sure. When things quiet down."
John just smiled, and picked up his guitar again, played a few chords of what he was writing, not bothering with the words. "What do you think?"
Veronica smiled back. "It's nice. I like it."
And since he'd decided not long after starting that it was probably for her, that was the best compliment she could give. He made a few notes on his music and she let him be, telling him to try not to stay all night again, she'd like to see him at some point, as she left. John made the effort and left the studio early enough to take her out for a late dinner, the same little bar he'd been discovered in though he didn't mention it. Just said he knew the people who ran it, and they stayed until closing.
He went back to the studio the next day with renewed inspiration and managed to tackle all the pieces that he'd been having difficulty deciding on, spent the next week and a half recording it all and tossing out the ones he didn't like in the end. The final result was about a mini-album's worth of music that he burned to disc right then and there , deleted from the computer because he didn't want anyone stumbling across it. He called it a night early, got home in time to interrupt Veronica half-way through a phone interview with some teen magazine John had never even heard of, would never give an interview for himself. He sat beside her on the couch and poked at her sides, made faces whenever she looked his way, until she was biting back laughs and giving him exasperated looks in return, batting him off and mouthing at him to stop it.
Doing as he was told, though, was not one of John's strengths. So he continued to poke and make faces, even leaned over to kiss her shoulder when she tried to turn away from him, and he called it a victory when she thanked the reporter and hung up.
"Annoying," she accused lightly, and kissed him on the mouth. "You're in a funny mood today."
"I've got something for you," John announced, choosing to ignore the comment and throwing his arm casually around Veronica's shoulders.
"What is it?"
"You bought me a plane," he told her instead of answering the question. "You have no idea how huge that is." Even if he was still uncomfortable about flying at all, didn't know if he would ever get over it, still preferred to drive unless it was just the two of them. "And it's been bugging me since you did it, about how to repay that."
"You don't need to. I wanted to give it to you."
"And I wanted to do this, so just be quiet a minute and listen would you," John chastised fondly, and produced the CD he'd just finished. "This is what I've been working on since we got back from LA. It's no plane but it is the only copy of any of the songs that's ever going to exist."
He'd written each and every one of them for her, about her or about them, if the lyrics were read in that way, sang them with her in mind. They weren't for anyone else, not to share with the label and certainly not for sale. The half dozen songs that had made the cut were Veronica's songs, by John's hand, the only help he'd had from the art department in creating an insert for the case. The cover showed the same picture he'd taken of her the night they were saved, out on the balcony playing his old guitar. It didn't feel like it was enough to even start repaying a plane, to start saying thank you for the chance to start getting over what had kept him out of the air since resigning his commission, but it was what he had to offer, the most heartfelt expression of his love for her that he could manage.
Veronica just looked at him, smile faded into shock. "You wrote me an entire album?"
"More like a mini. There were only six or seven that I liked enough to include after I'd recorded them. And like I say, it's no plane."
"But you wrote six songs for me."
"And no one else has heard them," he added. "I did the mixing myself. But, full disclosure, the art department did do the insert for me."
She just kept looking, staring really, and John was starting to be pretty sure that making music was the wrong kind of gesture when it was his profession. But then she was suddenly all but in his lap, kissing him like he'd never been kissed before, like she was saying a hundred things she couldn't put into words and they all summed up to 'I love it; I love you.' She said thank you against his lips and got up to put it on immediately, listening intently while John sat by uncomfortably. Listening to his own music wasn't something he enjoyed, and it was worse when it was something so obviously emotional and honest right there with the person he'd written it for was that much worse. She read through the lyrics printed in the insert along with each song, and by the time the last song finished, he was almost sure she was going to cry.
Instead she turned to him again, asked why he hadn't included the song he'd written for Asheville, and he shrugged it off with the answer that people had already heard it, and the whole point of the disc was that no one had. Veronica kissed him again, then, the CD's case dropped carelessly on the floor.
Part Fifteen
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: John Sheppard/Veronica Mars
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2180 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
Part Thirteen
They drove out west to LA at the start of the next week, moving into Veronica's place while they were there, and it was a good thing she'd kept it. With the amount of back and forth travel they would have it was probably best to have a place there anyway. They would stay until the album was released, probably a while after as well if Teyla had anything to say about it, appearing on every entertainment talk show possible. It had been arranged incredibly strategically, Teyla had explained when her plane landed and she met them at the house; their individual appearances would sandwich the ones they did together, so they could double up and do the shows again at the end, get the maximum exposure. She'd been head of her department for a reason.
So they made their appearances, filming once every few days. John chatted with middle aged women on daytime shows, smiling an intentionally flirtatious smile and letting them touch his arm for the camera, and Veronica made suggestive comments and played ridiculous games with late night hosts. A month before the album was set to released they showed up together on all the most popular shows, played their songs, and when the album came out and the week following they started it all again in mirror. Veronica sat with women and discussed their relationship, told the story of how John proposed out of nowhere, showed off her ring, and John let himself be ridiculous for the shows that aired in the middle of the night, laughed through his agreement to comments that his fiancée was hot and he was probably the luckiest guy in music.
They got a look at the first week of sales before they left. Thousands more than they'd anticipated, the highest first week of sales either of them had ever seen. It was an impossible result to all the trouble they'd put themselves through, unheard of from people who only just more than a year ago had been total strangers. The impressive numbers were plastered all over the entertainment news the entire trip home.
John locked himself in the studio when they got to Nashville with his guitar and a pile of half-finished songs, told everyone he was working on something new and it wasn't a lie. He was, just didn't know exactly what to make of it yet, wanted to get some time alone to feel his way through it and time alone wasn't something he'd actually had since he and Veronica had been forced together. They'd worked and worked and worked and fallen into each other, been basically joined at the hip the whole way along and John was a solitary man by nature. Veronica was great about giving him his space, and he was happy to give her hers in return, but it was a different thing to get out of the apartment and behind a closed door where he could just sit and work on his music.
Veronica came by on the fifth day of his hiding out, poking her head in the door and asking quietly if she could talk to him. And since he wasn't hiding from her so much as he was hiding from life, he smiled and set his guitar inside, inviting her in. She didn't sit beside him where she might have a few days before, instead perching on the low table in front of him and watching him evenly.
"Is something going on?" she asked him flat out, and he appreciated that she didn't wander around the question.
"Nothing comes to mind," he answered, truthfully because retreating to the studio for days on end to work, emerging only to eat and sleep, wasn't exactly unusual for him. Particularly when there was something about what he was working on that bothered him.
"Okay. Because you've been in here not talking to anyone for days and I was getting kind of worried. I mean, I know we don't really talk about things like that but if something's wrong, you...I'll listen if you want to."
"Nothing's wrong. I just..." he trailed off with a shrug. It wasn't like he could just say to her that he wanted some time away, because that wasn't right at all. But John wasn't good at talking, wasn't good at expressing himself unless it was through music and he couldn't get those words right either. So he didn't finish the thought, just made a vague hand gesture that he hoped she would understand.
"You're not having second thoughts or anything are you?" Veronica asked, all strangely unsettling insecurity, the way she touched her ring probably less conscious than it looked. "Because if you are, that's something you should definitely be telling me."
John couldn't help chuckling, leaning over and catching her hands. "I'm not," he assured, and of course she didn't know this wasn't unusual. She'd only ever known him on tour. "I should have said something. This is kind of what I do when I'm stuck and, you know, don't take this the wrong way or anything but we've been attached at the hip since pretty much the day we met. Just wanted to be alone for a while. I'm not really used to...stuff."
"Okay. Just checking."
He understood why; after all the trouble they'd caused for themselves, all the enemies they'd made at the label, after a very public proposal of sorts, it would all seem like a big waste if they weren't sure. They'd put everything on the line and very nearly put an end to their careers, because the more he thought about it the more he was sure no other label would want them knowing they couldn't play the game, and it would all be for nothing if they weren't absolutely positive they wanted to be together. Obviously Veronica knew that too, and John's sudden and unannounced absence from everything must have been alarming. But he couldn't help wondering if didn't mean they were moving a little on the fast side; for all they had talked, it had mostly been in a work setting, and so much of it about their songs or the tour. It seemed like they hardly knew one another outside of that.
They were going to get married, John was sure of that. This was a woman he wanted to marry, but he didn't want to fall into some celebrity cliché of getting married quick and ending up quietly divorced a year or two later. He thought maybe they should get to know one another a little better, and sooner rather than later.
"Hey," he announced, seemingly out of nowhere, "I know we just went to Mexico a couple months back, but what do you think of taking some time off to just hang out?"
"Right now?" It was ridiculous to suggest doing it now, and Veronica's face made that abundantly clear. "The album just came out not even two weeks ago."
They still had to be available for radio slots and musical appearances, at least a while longer, while the album was still new. "No, not now. Next month or something. Soon. When things quiet down a bit."
She paused, looked at him for a moment, probably confused by his sudden suggestion, then nodded. "Sure. When things quiet down."
John just smiled, and picked up his guitar again, played a few chords of what he was writing, not bothering with the words. "What do you think?"
Veronica smiled back. "It's nice. I like it."
And since he'd decided not long after starting that it was probably for her, that was the best compliment she could give. He made a few notes on his music and she let him be, telling him to try not to stay all night again, she'd like to see him at some point, as she left. John made the effort and left the studio early enough to take her out for a late dinner, the same little bar he'd been discovered in though he didn't mention it. Just said he knew the people who ran it, and they stayed until closing.
He went back to the studio the next day with renewed inspiration and managed to tackle all the pieces that he'd been having difficulty deciding on, spent the next week and a half recording it all and tossing out the ones he didn't like in the end. The final result was about a mini-album's worth of music that he burned to disc right then and there , deleted from the computer because he didn't want anyone stumbling across it. He called it a night early, got home in time to interrupt Veronica half-way through a phone interview with some teen magazine John had never even heard of, would never give an interview for himself. He sat beside her on the couch and poked at her sides, made faces whenever she looked his way, until she was biting back laughs and giving him exasperated looks in return, batting him off and mouthing at him to stop it.
Doing as he was told, though, was not one of John's strengths. So he continued to poke and make faces, even leaned over to kiss her shoulder when she tried to turn away from him, and he called it a victory when she thanked the reporter and hung up.
"Annoying," she accused lightly, and kissed him on the mouth. "You're in a funny mood today."
"I've got something for you," John announced, choosing to ignore the comment and throwing his arm casually around Veronica's shoulders.
"What is it?"
"You bought me a plane," he told her instead of answering the question. "You have no idea how huge that is." Even if he was still uncomfortable about flying at all, didn't know if he would ever get over it, still preferred to drive unless it was just the two of them. "And it's been bugging me since you did it, about how to repay that."
"You don't need to. I wanted to give it to you."
"And I wanted to do this, so just be quiet a minute and listen would you," John chastised fondly, and produced the CD he'd just finished. "This is what I've been working on since we got back from LA. It's no plane but it is the only copy of any of the songs that's ever going to exist."
He'd written each and every one of them for her, about her or about them, if the lyrics were read in that way, sang them with her in mind. They weren't for anyone else, not to share with the label and certainly not for sale. The half dozen songs that had made the cut were Veronica's songs, by John's hand, the only help he'd had from the art department in creating an insert for the case. The cover showed the same picture he'd taken of her the night they were saved, out on the balcony playing his old guitar. It didn't feel like it was enough to even start repaying a plane, to start saying thank you for the chance to start getting over what had kept him out of the air since resigning his commission, but it was what he had to offer, the most heartfelt expression of his love for her that he could manage.
Veronica just looked at him, smile faded into shock. "You wrote me an entire album?"
"More like a mini. There were only six or seven that I liked enough to include after I'd recorded them. And like I say, it's no plane."
"But you wrote six songs for me."
"And no one else has heard them," he added. "I did the mixing myself. But, full disclosure, the art department did do the insert for me."
She just kept looking, staring really, and John was starting to be pretty sure that making music was the wrong kind of gesture when it was his profession. But then she was suddenly all but in his lap, kissing him like he'd never been kissed before, like she was saying a hundred things she couldn't put into words and they all summed up to 'I love it; I love you.' She said thank you against his lips and got up to put it on immediately, listening intently while John sat by uncomfortably. Listening to his own music wasn't something he enjoyed, and it was worse when it was something so obviously emotional and honest right there with the person he'd written it for was that much worse. She read through the lyrics printed in the insert along with each song, and by the time the last song finished, he was almost sure she was going to cry.
Instead she turned to him again, asked why he hadn't included the song he'd written for Asheville, and he shrugged it off with the answer that people had already heard it, and the whole point of the disc was that no one had. Veronica kissed him again, then, the CD's case dropped carelessly on the floor.
Part Fifteen