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dontwantmebackTitle: Play Me A Melody (15/18)
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: John Sheppard/Veronica Mars
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2493 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
Part Fourteen
They had a vacation planned. They were going to get away, relax, get to know each other well enough that getting married didn't seem like a ridiculous thing to be doing. They'd agreed to do it sooner rather than later, to actually get around to getting married in the nearer future if only because people were starting to ask them if they'd set a date, decided on a place and a million other things that made John want to just go to Vegas. A wedding was intimidating enough without worrying about the entire country looking on. The more he thought about it, the more John was convinced they should just forgo all the planning and do it like her friend had, quickly and in secret, not telling anyone about it until it was done.
Out of nowhere one evening, or maybe because she'd been texting her father all day, Veronica looked at him and asked: "Why haven't I met your family?"
"I told you we're not close," John offered as an explanation that was really more avoiding the question all together.
"Yeah, I know. But I'm just thinking, we're going to get married and do they even know who I am?"
Probably not, John didn't want to admit. He didn't think they even knew how famous he was, definitely didn't think they were paying enough attention to know what was going on in his very public life.
"I don't know," he said instead. "I mean, it's hard not to know who you are but I wouldn't put money on them knowing anything. Like I said; we're not close."
"John," she said, ever patient with him. "There's not close and then there's not introducing them to your fiancée."
"There's not close and then there's my family," he countered, and sat down with her. He explained having a falling out with his father, back when he was young and about to leave for college, about joining up to the Air Force, not going into business, not going to an Ivy League school even though he'd been accepted to all of them. His brother had taken his father's side and stopped speaking to him, his father had told him if he didn't do what was expected of him, there was no reason for him to go home again, and John had packed his things and left with the announcement that he didn't want anything to do with them anyway. He hadn't spoken to them since, only reached out once, right before he'd been deployed overseas for the first time. He'd been refused by his father's secretary after an hour-long run-around, left a message about what was happening but it had never been returned and John had never tried again. And that had been years ago. He hadn't heard a word from them since.
"It's not just that we're not close," he finished. "We're hardly even what you would call family anymore."
Veronica, being potentially the most amazing woman in existence, didn't need any more than that. She dropped the subject all together but John thought maybe she should meet his family all the same. He changed their arrangements to take them briefly to Virginia. It was where he'd spent the most time as a kid, where it was most likely they would be able to run into someone.
The week they were meant to go, though, John was called to New York. There was a last minute opening on Emma's show, a cancellation two days before filming, and a long-standing agreement that John would fill in whenever it happened. So he threw a bag together and hopped in the car, drove straight through to New York and even though he had nothing to promote, gave an interview that was sure to be less talking about himself than it was just talking with his good friend.
He was staying an extra day, meeting up with some friends while he had the chance; he didn't get to New York much outside of work, almost never had the opportunity to see the people he knew there and he and Veronica had already pushed their vacation back a full week. He could have stayed longer if he'd wanted, but he felt bad about the last second postponement and wanted to get back to Nashville and do something nice to make up for it. He decided what yet, but he had a long day's drive back to figure it out.
The day of the interview his phone had been buzzing incessantly since about late morning, text after text from nearly everyone he knew in Nashville, saying he needed to call right away, but no one said why and he figured it was nothing that couldn't wait a couple hours while he recorded Emma's show. It was the most comfortable interview he'd had in a long time, she didn't ask him about his relationship or about music he hadn't even gotten around to writing yet and when John left he was in high spirits. It really was just hanging out with a long time friend, and now that he could step back and look at it with Veronica in his life, he understood why the public had always thought they were dating. He told her to come down for a visit, Veronica would be happy to see her too. If she did, he promised, they'd give her another intimate exclusive, and Emma laughed and asked if they'd be getting married on her show if she took him up on the visit.
John was still all smiles when he returned to the car and to the phone that looked about ready to explode there were so many waiting messages. The texts had turned to voicemail and when he checked it his box was full. In a second, his mood turned and he was certain something had happened. He didn't read the texts, or listen to the messages, he hated getting news that way and wanted to hear it straight. So he called Veronica. She didn't answer, and that was strange, so he tried again right away. That time, just before it went to voicemail, it was answered by a voice he didn't recognize.
A nurse at some hospital, she told him calmly, and he hardly heard the name. He was already driving out of the car park by the time she got to explaining more than that. Veronica had been involved in a traffic accident, she explained, was injured pretty seriously, had come in unconscious and was still in surgery though they would be out soon barring any complications and would be fine after a while, but all John heard was Veronica was hurt badly enough to need surgery and he should get into the hospital as soon as possible. Difficult, he knew, out of state and far too many hours drive away. But he said anyway that he'd be there in a couple hours, took the turn off to the airport before he had a chance to think about it. He called Ronon to meet him when he landed, didn't even have to dodge any questions about it, got himself on the first flight to Nashville and was miraculously lucky it was just boarding and had an empty seat. It was in coach, and that wouldn't have bothered John even if he'd given himself half a chance to think about it.
It was the first time he'd set foot on a plane, excepting the tiny little thing Veronica had bought him, in an incredibly long time, the first time since quitting the Air Force that he'd let someone else fly for him and it was nerve-racking, terrifying, and John didn't care. He realised as he sat himself down amongst glances and whispers, not even a pair of sunglasses to help hide his identity, that he'd never actually made the effort to say how much he cared. He'd written it, sung it, made it abundantly clear in other ways, but he'd never said it and all of a sudden she was in surgery, seriously hurt and for John that could only mean that she might die, and he'd never said it. They didn't talk about things, but that was no excuse.
He fidgeted nervously through the flight, the attendant stopping by frequently to make sure he was okay and he brushed off her questions with the explanation that he was a pilot too, didn't like control being out of his hands, smiling the best smile he could muster and knowing it couldn't be more fake. The truth was, flying had frightened him after being shot down, even knowing that wasn't going to happen again. Veronica's presence was the only thing that made him comfortable enough to take his own plane up, and he should tell her that, too. About a half hour before they landed, a kid came up to him, hesitantly asked for his autograph, said she was a big fan of Veronica's and had really liked the stuff they had done together. John thanked her, mustered up a genuine smile and shook her hand, signed her book, talked to her for a while and he was actually glad for something to take his mind off things, even just for a moment.
When she was ushered back to her seat for landing, she paused long enough to give John a sudden hug, one that made him startle and flounder, unsure about how to respond. She told him quietly that he looked sad and that she hoped whatever was wrong turned out okay. John could only smile faintly and nod, sent her back to her seat and when they landed he made sure to get some contact information from her father there with her, said to the man that he had a good kid and they would definitely want to do something for her if they could. At very least she deserved a phone call from Veronica, for being the support John had needed to keep his wits about him through the last bit of the flight, when nerves and worry threatened to get the better of him.
Ronon met him the moment he stepped out of the gates, and they didn't exchange a word until they were already halfway to the hospital. Even then it was only for John to announce that he'd left New York without packing any of his things, without checking out of his hotel, without cancelling his plans, and his car was definitely going to be towed from where he'd abandoned it in short term parking.
"I've got it," was all Ronon said in response, and John knew he could trust his bodyguard to make the calls and get everything sorted. Or at very least call Teyla and have her do it instead. Whatever he did John knew it would all be sorted and he'd even get his car back, that he didn't have to worry about those things. He had enough to worry about already.
He managed to keep calm and not burst into the hospital, and he was lucky enough that some of the staff recognized him well enough to know he was with Veronica, and he didn't even have to ask for her. He was shown right to her room, found her still unconscious and fell into the chair beside her bed. The nurse who had shown him the way explained that she was going to be fine, that the doctor would be around after she woke up to check on her and would explain everything then. John could only offer a vague thanks to the guy as he left them alone again.
Somehow the hospital had managed a private room, fitting for someone of Veronica's status and fame, John thought, and that made it all the easier for him to take her hand in both of his, lean over to kiss her bruised cheek, and settle in to wait for her to wake up. It was a long wait, and after a while he took it upon himself to get up and poke around the room, sent a text to Teyla and had her find someone to bring Veronica a bag, read the chart at the end of her bed to find out what was going on. He didn't understand most of it, but he got the gist of her injuries, had seen enough medical shorthand in his time to at least get that much. A fractured bone, in her arm, probably, judging by the placement of bandages, though John didn't remember what the note meant. Various cuts and bruises, unfortunately centered around her face and he hoped those didn't scar; she traded on her beauty as well as her talent and even if a scar or two wouldn't even make him blink, he knew others would. Something had apparently pierced her abdomen, but didn't seem to have hit anything vital.
Knowing all that calmed John down enough to go back to sitting, dozing as it started to get late, and someone from the label office came and went with not only Veronica's things but some of John's and his guitar as well. He took it up and played while he waited, the same songs he'd recorded in secret for her, got so into it that he didn't notice her eyes opening until she cleared her throat. Immediately the guitar was set aside and he was leaning over her, her hand in his all over again.
"Hey," was all he managed.
"Hey," she answered, and her fingers curled around his. "You're here."
"I hopped on a plane as soon as I heard."
"You flew back?"
"Yeah."
Beneath all the grogginess and bandages and bruises, Veronica looked confused. "You hate flying unless you're in control."
He couldn't say it yet, that being in control was only a fraction of it and that she was the fix. So instead he just smiled down at her, squeezed her hand. "Yeah, I do."
She still looked confused. "You don't fly, John."
He wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell her that apparently he did now, or that apparently he could if the reason was right. Instead he just shook his head, leaned over to kiss her as gently as he could and ended up barely even brushing his lips against hers. "Well, I love you. So I did. Just this once."
Veronica's smile was bordering on dopey, and John was sure it was because of the drugs; his fiancée was anything but dopey even at her silliest. Any response she had was cut off by the doctor coming in. John kept a firm hold on her hand while they listened to the doctor explain what he already knew, got an estimate of about ten days hospitalised. Veronica objected that they were going on vacation, and John shushed her with a promise that they'd reschedule again. They had nothing waiting to be done that couldn't wait a little longer.
Part Sixteen
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/Veronica Mars/Heroes/Iron Man/Once Upon A Time
Pairing: John Sheppard/Veronica Mars
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rockstar AU
Length: 2493 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
Part Fourteen
They had a vacation planned. They were going to get away, relax, get to know each other well enough that getting married didn't seem like a ridiculous thing to be doing. They'd agreed to do it sooner rather than later, to actually get around to getting married in the nearer future if only because people were starting to ask them if they'd set a date, decided on a place and a million other things that made John want to just go to Vegas. A wedding was intimidating enough without worrying about the entire country looking on. The more he thought about it, the more John was convinced they should just forgo all the planning and do it like her friend had, quickly and in secret, not telling anyone about it until it was done.
Out of nowhere one evening, or maybe because she'd been texting her father all day, Veronica looked at him and asked: "Why haven't I met your family?"
"I told you we're not close," John offered as an explanation that was really more avoiding the question all together.
"Yeah, I know. But I'm just thinking, we're going to get married and do they even know who I am?"
Probably not, John didn't want to admit. He didn't think they even knew how famous he was, definitely didn't think they were paying enough attention to know what was going on in his very public life.
"I don't know," he said instead. "I mean, it's hard not to know who you are but I wouldn't put money on them knowing anything. Like I said; we're not close."
"John," she said, ever patient with him. "There's not close and then there's not introducing them to your fiancée."
"There's not close and then there's my family," he countered, and sat down with her. He explained having a falling out with his father, back when he was young and about to leave for college, about joining up to the Air Force, not going into business, not going to an Ivy League school even though he'd been accepted to all of them. His brother had taken his father's side and stopped speaking to him, his father had told him if he didn't do what was expected of him, there was no reason for him to go home again, and John had packed his things and left with the announcement that he didn't want anything to do with them anyway. He hadn't spoken to them since, only reached out once, right before he'd been deployed overseas for the first time. He'd been refused by his father's secretary after an hour-long run-around, left a message about what was happening but it had never been returned and John had never tried again. And that had been years ago. He hadn't heard a word from them since.
"It's not just that we're not close," he finished. "We're hardly even what you would call family anymore."
Veronica, being potentially the most amazing woman in existence, didn't need any more than that. She dropped the subject all together but John thought maybe she should meet his family all the same. He changed their arrangements to take them briefly to Virginia. It was where he'd spent the most time as a kid, where it was most likely they would be able to run into someone.
The week they were meant to go, though, John was called to New York. There was a last minute opening on Emma's show, a cancellation two days before filming, and a long-standing agreement that John would fill in whenever it happened. So he threw a bag together and hopped in the car, drove straight through to New York and even though he had nothing to promote, gave an interview that was sure to be less talking about himself than it was just talking with his good friend.
He was staying an extra day, meeting up with some friends while he had the chance; he didn't get to New York much outside of work, almost never had the opportunity to see the people he knew there and he and Veronica had already pushed their vacation back a full week. He could have stayed longer if he'd wanted, but he felt bad about the last second postponement and wanted to get back to Nashville and do something nice to make up for it. He decided what yet, but he had a long day's drive back to figure it out.
The day of the interview his phone had been buzzing incessantly since about late morning, text after text from nearly everyone he knew in Nashville, saying he needed to call right away, but no one said why and he figured it was nothing that couldn't wait a couple hours while he recorded Emma's show. It was the most comfortable interview he'd had in a long time, she didn't ask him about his relationship or about music he hadn't even gotten around to writing yet and when John left he was in high spirits. It really was just hanging out with a long time friend, and now that he could step back and look at it with Veronica in his life, he understood why the public had always thought they were dating. He told her to come down for a visit, Veronica would be happy to see her too. If she did, he promised, they'd give her another intimate exclusive, and Emma laughed and asked if they'd be getting married on her show if she took him up on the visit.
John was still all smiles when he returned to the car and to the phone that looked about ready to explode there were so many waiting messages. The texts had turned to voicemail and when he checked it his box was full. In a second, his mood turned and he was certain something had happened. He didn't read the texts, or listen to the messages, he hated getting news that way and wanted to hear it straight. So he called Veronica. She didn't answer, and that was strange, so he tried again right away. That time, just before it went to voicemail, it was answered by a voice he didn't recognize.
A nurse at some hospital, she told him calmly, and he hardly heard the name. He was already driving out of the car park by the time she got to explaining more than that. Veronica had been involved in a traffic accident, she explained, was injured pretty seriously, had come in unconscious and was still in surgery though they would be out soon barring any complications and would be fine after a while, but all John heard was Veronica was hurt badly enough to need surgery and he should get into the hospital as soon as possible. Difficult, he knew, out of state and far too many hours drive away. But he said anyway that he'd be there in a couple hours, took the turn off to the airport before he had a chance to think about it. He called Ronon to meet him when he landed, didn't even have to dodge any questions about it, got himself on the first flight to Nashville and was miraculously lucky it was just boarding and had an empty seat. It was in coach, and that wouldn't have bothered John even if he'd given himself half a chance to think about it.
It was the first time he'd set foot on a plane, excepting the tiny little thing Veronica had bought him, in an incredibly long time, the first time since quitting the Air Force that he'd let someone else fly for him and it was nerve-racking, terrifying, and John didn't care. He realised as he sat himself down amongst glances and whispers, not even a pair of sunglasses to help hide his identity, that he'd never actually made the effort to say how much he cared. He'd written it, sung it, made it abundantly clear in other ways, but he'd never said it and all of a sudden she was in surgery, seriously hurt and for John that could only mean that she might die, and he'd never said it. They didn't talk about things, but that was no excuse.
He fidgeted nervously through the flight, the attendant stopping by frequently to make sure he was okay and he brushed off her questions with the explanation that he was a pilot too, didn't like control being out of his hands, smiling the best smile he could muster and knowing it couldn't be more fake. The truth was, flying had frightened him after being shot down, even knowing that wasn't going to happen again. Veronica's presence was the only thing that made him comfortable enough to take his own plane up, and he should tell her that, too. About a half hour before they landed, a kid came up to him, hesitantly asked for his autograph, said she was a big fan of Veronica's and had really liked the stuff they had done together. John thanked her, mustered up a genuine smile and shook her hand, signed her book, talked to her for a while and he was actually glad for something to take his mind off things, even just for a moment.
When she was ushered back to her seat for landing, she paused long enough to give John a sudden hug, one that made him startle and flounder, unsure about how to respond. She told him quietly that he looked sad and that she hoped whatever was wrong turned out okay. John could only smile faintly and nod, sent her back to her seat and when they landed he made sure to get some contact information from her father there with her, said to the man that he had a good kid and they would definitely want to do something for her if they could. At very least she deserved a phone call from Veronica, for being the support John had needed to keep his wits about him through the last bit of the flight, when nerves and worry threatened to get the better of him.
Ronon met him the moment he stepped out of the gates, and they didn't exchange a word until they were already halfway to the hospital. Even then it was only for John to announce that he'd left New York without packing any of his things, without checking out of his hotel, without cancelling his plans, and his car was definitely going to be towed from where he'd abandoned it in short term parking.
"I've got it," was all Ronon said in response, and John knew he could trust his bodyguard to make the calls and get everything sorted. Or at very least call Teyla and have her do it instead. Whatever he did John knew it would all be sorted and he'd even get his car back, that he didn't have to worry about those things. He had enough to worry about already.
He managed to keep calm and not burst into the hospital, and he was lucky enough that some of the staff recognized him well enough to know he was with Veronica, and he didn't even have to ask for her. He was shown right to her room, found her still unconscious and fell into the chair beside her bed. The nurse who had shown him the way explained that she was going to be fine, that the doctor would be around after she woke up to check on her and would explain everything then. John could only offer a vague thanks to the guy as he left them alone again.
Somehow the hospital had managed a private room, fitting for someone of Veronica's status and fame, John thought, and that made it all the easier for him to take her hand in both of his, lean over to kiss her bruised cheek, and settle in to wait for her to wake up. It was a long wait, and after a while he took it upon himself to get up and poke around the room, sent a text to Teyla and had her find someone to bring Veronica a bag, read the chart at the end of her bed to find out what was going on. He didn't understand most of it, but he got the gist of her injuries, had seen enough medical shorthand in his time to at least get that much. A fractured bone, in her arm, probably, judging by the placement of bandages, though John didn't remember what the note meant. Various cuts and bruises, unfortunately centered around her face and he hoped those didn't scar; she traded on her beauty as well as her talent and even if a scar or two wouldn't even make him blink, he knew others would. Something had apparently pierced her abdomen, but didn't seem to have hit anything vital.
Knowing all that calmed John down enough to go back to sitting, dozing as it started to get late, and someone from the label office came and went with not only Veronica's things but some of John's and his guitar as well. He took it up and played while he waited, the same songs he'd recorded in secret for her, got so into it that he didn't notice her eyes opening until she cleared her throat. Immediately the guitar was set aside and he was leaning over her, her hand in his all over again.
"Hey," was all he managed.
"Hey," she answered, and her fingers curled around his. "You're here."
"I hopped on a plane as soon as I heard."
"You flew back?"
"Yeah."
Beneath all the grogginess and bandages and bruises, Veronica looked confused. "You hate flying unless you're in control."
He couldn't say it yet, that being in control was only a fraction of it and that she was the fix. So instead he just smiled down at her, squeezed her hand. "Yeah, I do."
She still looked confused. "You don't fly, John."
He wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell her that apparently he did now, or that apparently he could if the reason was right. Instead he just shook his head, leaned over to kiss her as gently as he could and ended up barely even brushing his lips against hers. "Well, I love you. So I did. Just this once."
Veronica's smile was bordering on dopey, and John was sure it was because of the drugs; his fiancée was anything but dopey even at her silliest. Any response she had was cut off by the doctor coming in. John kept a firm hold on her hand while they listened to the doctor explain what he already knew, got an estimate of about ten days hospitalised. Veronica objected that they were going on vacation, and John shushed her with a promise that they'd reschedule again. They had nothing waiting to be done that couldn't wait a little longer.
Part Sixteen