Author: Starrylizard

Characters: Sheppard, McKay

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None

Summary: Dr Rodney McKay swayed his hips provocatively, as he moved to the music. His partner was none other than one of Teyla's many long Athosian fighting sticks, and he leaned it down several times, as he added in random dips and twirls.

Notes: This sillyness is entirely due to my Strictly Ballroom obsession and a conversation I had with Katie.

This is unbetaed so sorry for any mistakes. Feel free to point them out.


Snarky Ballroom


It had been one hell of a long day. Their 'peaceful mission for trading purposes' had somehow once again turned into 'run for your life as the crazy native throw spears at you'. To be honest, McKay was starting to get a complex about so called "peaceful" missions. At least when they went out expecting to be attacked, he was prepared to hide behind the rest of the team from the get-go.

As it was, Ronon was currently residing in the medical bay, his leg stitched up where one of the native's spears had hit its target. It said something about the man that he'd just pulled the thing out and kept running, only to pass out as he stepped through the event horizon and into the safety of Atlantis.

Now safely out of Beckett's post-mission clutches, Rodney felt wired. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep yet. Somehow facing the possibility of imminent death just had that effect on him. Wandering the darkened hallways of the city, he found himself in one of the many training rooms, one lined with the 'fighting sticks' Teyla was apt at using. What caught Rodney's eye though, was the CD player sitting off to one side of the room. Obviously the room had many purposes, not all of which involved hitting people with sticks. Curiosity piqued, he wandered over and hit the play button, humming happily at the unexpectedly pleasant music that ensued.


John Sheppard wandered the hallways of Atlantis. He'd checked up on Ronon briefly, only to find Teyla already keeping the man company. Reassured, he'd set off with the idea of some one-on-one time with a punching bag before bed. Halfway to the gym, his attention was diverted by the sound of music. It was the unmistakable rhythm and style of the Tango? It had been a long time since John Sheppard had taken dancing lessons in high school as a means to impress the ladies, but he still remembered some of the basics.

It was easy enough to follow the uplifting sounds of the Latin beat and he soon found himself at the door to one of the smaller workout rooms; the same one Teyla used when she liked to kick his butt once a week in the name of Athosian stick fighting lessons. What he saw as he peered around the door though… that was priceless.

Dr Rodney McKay swayed his hips provocatively, as he moved to the music. His partner was none other than one of Teyla's many long Athosian fighting sticks, and he leaned it down several times, as he added in random dips and twirls. His other hand was held up as if it held his imaginary partner's shoulder and John watched in amazement as he moved decisively from one end of the room to the other, turning on a dime to face the other way and march back again. John found himself thinking that all Rodney needed was a rose clamped between his teeth and the scene would be perfect. The man was even singing in a mumbling sort of way, keeping time with the music as he danced. rum taa taa taa, da da da daa daa, rum taa taa taa, da da da daa daa…

Hearing a muffled snort, Rodney jumped in shock, spinning around to find John Sheppard standing at the door, grinning from ear to ear.

"That's some schmick dancing there Rodney." Sheppard was casually leaning against the door, arms crossed, a smirk written across his mouth and an amused glint in his eyes.

Rodney groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Schmick? Since when do you use words like schmick? Anyway, I'll have you know that I am a great dancer. Jeannie forced me to take lessons, but she was terrible. I have natural rhythm." Rodney swayed his hips to demonstrate and preened slightly. "I was very popular with the ladies on the dance floor. If you think you can do any better, be my guest." He gestured with the stick he was still carrying, daring John to come further into the room.

John raised an eyebrow. He wasn't one to turn down a challenge, no matter how childish. "I can dance. I learnt in high school and I'll have you know I was popular with the ladies too." The simmering look he gave Rodney, made him chuckle.

"Oh, I'm sure you were quite popular with the ladies, though I doubt it was anything to do with your dancing skills and I question your use of the word 'ladies' when we're talking high school."

The music shifted suddenly to a slower track, the sultry sounds of Doris Day singing Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps.

"Ah ha! The Rumba. You up for it? Show me. Show me your amazing dancing skills." Rodney gestured smugly, but his expression changed to one of surprised amusement when Sheppard smoothly moved into the room and started swaying, albeit a little stiffly, to the music.

Rodney noted, with some surprise, that the man did seem to have some idea of the rumba, but he was most definitely on the wrong beat. He made a 'tut-tutting' noise and, discarding his make-do stick partner, slid into the open frame John was making with his arms. Rodney placed one hand on the other mans chest, forcing him to straighten his frame. He then pushed John's arms into the correct position and lifted his chin with a finger. John tensed at the unexpected move and raised a curious eyebrow, but otherwise didn't protest, so Rodney continued.

"Okay, so it goes: hold, two, three, four…hold, two, three, four. That's it." He kept counting quietly, as they moved around the room, grimacing slightly when his foot was trodden on.

"I thought you said you could dance? You can't even do a basic."

"Give me a break Rodney. It's been years."

Rodney shook his head, pushed Sheppard back into the right hold position and started to count again.

"Anyway, where did you learn to dance the girl part?"

"There weren't always enough ladies in the class."

"I thought you said you were popular with the ladies, not one of them."



"Shut up and dance."