• Mood: amused

Just Another Day in Paradise (John/Rodney, PG-13)

Title: Just Another Day in Paradise
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~1,900
Pairings: John/Rodney
Warnings: Complete and utter crack
Summary: Rodney was clearly the more majestic bird.
Notes: For seekergeek, to the prompt "John and Rodney participate in an elaborate and intense ritual dance." Few ritual dances are as elaborate and intense as the mating dance of the Superb Bird-of-paradise.

Many thanks to debris_k for the quick beta.

~~~

Just Another Day in Paradise


Image (c) San Diego Zoo

Rodney let the last bit of leaf drop from his beak and into the underbrush. He turned and proudly surveyed the fruit of his labour. Not a single bit of plant matter littered the small clearing. The two branches lying across it had been polished to perfection with a sturdy piece of bark and trimmed to display their light-green leaves to the greatest aesthetic effect. The loose earth had been brushed smooth and flat, and any obstructing shoots yanked out and tossed away.

The stage was set.

Rodney hopped to the centre of the area, cleared his throat, and chirped a few times in preparation. Then he threw back his head, opened his beak, and let out the sharp call that would announce his upcoming performance to every female in the vicinity. He waited, called again, and waited some more. Wings fluttered overhead, and he watched with one eye as two females settled in the trees overhead.

Should he start awing them right away? Rodney pondered this for a moment before he decided against it. His sister kept taking great pleasure in telling him that he would be lucky to attract one female, but honestly, two were barely even worth the warm-up. And besides, what did she know? She'd settled down with a paradise crow, for Sun's sake!

Rodney shook his head and called again, the sound echoing across the small clearing, and he rustled his black feathers in satisfaction because that had been a very nice -

Wait, echo?

He jerked his head around, and then he turned and squawked in outrage. There, on the other side of the clearing, was another male! Rodney waved his wings to shoo him away, but the male just cocked his head and let out another sharp call. More fluttering above; leaves rustled as more females arrived. Rodney had no glance to spare them.

"Go! Shoo! Clean up your own stage!" His gaze stayed fixed on the intruder as he hopped closer, trying to drive the male away. The male tilted his head to the other side… and hopped right past Rodney to the opposite end of the clearing! Rodney squawked and jerked around, only to see the male pretend to pick bits of plant matter off Rodney's pristine stage and throw them aside. Rodney bristled; oh, oh, was that how they were going to play it? All right then, it was on.

Rodney took centre stage again and bounced in a small, perfect circle. His warm-up program had always been immaculate. The females above made the proper impressed noises, but the male just tipped his head from side to side as if he wanted to say, "Is that all you've got?"

Rodney bristled and yanked up the black pennants on his head. The male did the same, and Rodney fluttered his wings with a scoff. His pennants were nicely rounded – dare he say delicate? – and bobbed majestically with every tilt of his head. The other male's pennants looked like spiny anteaters. Plus, he only had five of them. Rodney had six.

Besides, Rodney was clearly the more majestic bird. The other male was so slim he looked lanky compared to Rodney's more robust form. His stance was so relaxed he all but slouched against the branch he was standing next to, and his eyes held a glint of insolence. None of that would attract a female. All right, so Rodney's breast shield was a little crooked, but what of it? He'd simply have to display the superior choreography – which he would, because there was brilliant, and then there was superb (i.e. Rodney) – and by the end of the day, he would be the one with a new mate, not this… this stage robber.

The male had narrowed his eyes at Rodney's mocking of his pennants, and now he straightened, fanning out his green-blue iridescent breast shield in a clear challenge. Rodney accepted at once, his own breast shield springing up along with his black feather cape. It spread widely around his head, and he snapped his tail feathers against the ground. The females twittered in excitement.

The stage was open.

The male took a few steps to the left, tripped back to the right, and then left again, all the time bobbing his head in counterpoint. His tail feathers were held rigidly to the side, his posture suddenly straight and attentive, and Rodney was almost impressed.

Almost.

Rodney started hopping again, bouncing up and down to display his stamina, once again describing a perfect circle as he went. His cape formed a magnificent ellipse around his head and he held it there, not a feather out of place as he danced. He let out a wild cry, blood pumping through him with the elation only a perfectly executed performance could bring. The male echoed him again, black cape half-raised as he circled Rodney, his messy pennants flopping riotously with each jump. Rodney was dimly aware of the females watching them, cheering them on, but all his attention was focussed on the male.

The male's breath was coming harder now; his breast shield rose and fell in an almost hypnotic display, catching the light and throwing it back at Rodney. Rodney snapped his tail feathers against the ground again and again, drumming their rhythm as they turned and swayed. The male jumped impressively high, and Rodney swept his tail feathers through the dust in a perfect arc before he went on drumming, louder, faster.

Nothing existed but the other male and their ritual dance. Rodney had never felt like this, completely caught in the moment, his body like an instrument for his mind's wild tune. He shouted with excitement and the male answered in kind, both of them hopping in frantic circles that grew smaller and smaller, feathers rustling and feet pounding the dirt. Heat was coming off the male's body like a forest fire, enveloping Rodney and driving him crazy with desire. He wanted that heat, that slender frame that was twisting so enticingly, sleek and firm in all the right places. He wanted-

The male's breast shield bumped against his own and Rodney tripped, his timing broken. He caught himself, but the damage was done, and he let his cape sink down to rest against his back as he realised that he had failed.

The dance was over.

The male bobbed a few more times before he faltered, tilting his head this way and that as he eyed Rodney with obvious concern. His feathers drooped, and Rodney shook his head as he took a few steps back. The first female fluttered down from her perch and into the clearing, closely followed by the next. The male made a motion as if to step around them, and Rodney shook his head again.

"Congratulations," he said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and… something else. Something he refused to identify as disappointment. "You've won."

He turned, unwilling to watch the spectacle of half a dozen females vying for a single male, and took off for the deeper parts of the forest; the ones where the light was dim and the leaves thick and no one would look too closely at a lone bird hidden among the branches.

Rodney settled down in an old schefflera and picked morosely at a passing ant. He wasn't really hungry, but he should probably eat something. He always felt faint after a mating dance, and this one had been… singularly unsuccessful, all right, but also… different. In a strange way. A strange, good way, and Rodney didn't quite know what to make of that. He'd always danced alone before. He'd never thought that dancing with a partner could be so… intense.

And he'd probably never feel that way again, elated and so alive, because what other male would choose such a peculiar way to settle their potential rivalry?

His branch shook a little as someone settled down beside him. Rodney swallowed another ant, unwilling to listen to his sister's latest lecture, when several tail feathers bumped against his own.

"Hey."

Rodney froze. The ants seemed to be climbing out his stomach by way of his heart, the way it skipped and stuttered as he slowly turned his head. It was the male from the clearing! But - but what was he -

"What are you doing here?" Rodney blurted, and then snapped his beak shut, mortified. He always did this; no matter how superb he might be, suave would never be a part of his repertoire.

The male studied him briefly from one black eye before he ducked his head to pick casually at the bark. "I saw you dance a few days ago, in that spot near the coast. Pretty impressive."

Rodney preened automatically. "Yes, yes, that was… Wait, impressive? I mean, of course it was. I mean, what?"

The male didn't look up. "I heard you were going to dance again today." He shrugged. "Thought I'd check you out."

"So you were there for me." Rodney frowned. "Wait, you were there for me? Why would you be there for me? Did you want to steal my moves? I knew it, you're a dirty, no-good, move-stealing –"

"Rodney!" the male interrupted him, "I wasn't there to steal your moves."

Rodney spread his wings in frustration. He hated being confused. "You're not making any sense," he complained. "If you're not going to make any sense, you might as well leave." And curse his still-skipping heart: if the male did leave, Rodney wasn't going to care, dammit. "And how do you know my name, anyway?"

"I asked around." The male twittered in exasperation, then he raised his head and looked straight at Rodney. "I saw you dance. I asked around. I heard you were going to dance again today, and I thought I'd check you out," he said very slowly, like Rodney was missing a very important -

Oh.

Suddenly, Rodney found it very hard to breathe. "You were there for me," he said faintly; only this time, the words meant something entirely different.

"Yeah." The male ducked his head again, a slight smile in his eyes.

Rodney resettled his wings, flinching when his feather's brushed against the male's. His heart raced like he was in the middle of a dance. He opened his beak, but not a sound came out. He closed it again.

The male suddenly hopped off the branch and swept down to the forest floor. He picked up a piece of bark and threw it aside with a flick of his head.

"You wanna come down here?" he asked, his back to Rodney.

Rodney stared at him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He felt decidedly off-balance. "I, ah… I don't know your name," he said lamely, even as he spread his wings for the short glide down.

The male looked up, pennants bouncing wildly as he tilted his head, and suddenly, he seemed like the most beautiful bird in the world. Something inside Rodney fluttered like leaves in a gust of wind.

"John," the male said, and tossed a leaf into the underbrush. Clearing the stage. "My name is John."

~~~

The End.


SEE RODNEY DANCE!