Round #1 Challenge #3 - Voting
Read each entry, and comment with the number of the THREE FICS you liked THE LEAST. When voting, you must provide a reason for your selection, the reason the fic didn't work for you. Please provide concrete criticisms, and don't vote strictly by personal preferences (e.g. pairing, POV, etc.) -- however, your reasoning doesn't need to be lengthy.
You may also vote for your most favorite fic, though a reason is not required for that.
Authors will be provided with any comments their fic receives, upon request; while it will be completely anonymous, please bear that in mind when commenting.
Please include the number and the title. An example of how to vote:
Least favorite
31) Title - Reason
43) Title - Reason
52) Title - Reason
Most favorite
38) Title
Voting is screened, and will remain open until Monday. Voting is open to anyone, so please feel free to link to this post - but remember, DO NOT reveal which story is your until the voting is finished. Once the winner & eliminations have been announced, you may post your story anywhere you like.
This week, two authors will be eliminated.
If you would like to make comments about any entries which are neither your least favorite nor your most favorite, please do so here.
01. Divide - general audience, no spoilers
They are a rag-tag bunch of villagers, clearly kept ostracised from the rest of the group. All teens or older, both sexes, all seemingly scared. No one will talk about who they are, or why they are separated from the rest, and it scares him.
He keeps catching a girl in the village shooting glances over at the outcast group, her eyes seeming to follow a boy her own age. She looks away quickly each time, like she’s been caught doing something wrong.
The boy stares longingly at her when she’s not looking his way, until one of the villagers notices and glares at him. The boy stops, his face guilty, but starts again a while later.
He tries to corner the girl, sensing that just maybe she’ll tell him what this is all about; but she hurries away, a look of distress on her face when he approaches her. He doesn’t see her again, except at a distance.
He tries to talk to the boy, but the villagers stop him from getting close to the outcast group. He asks, frustrated, why are they doing this? He just wants to talk to the boy. No one will answer him.
He’s not sure how much more of the divide he can stand. It will take a few more days for the trade negotiations to finish, but he wants to either find out what the mystery is right now or leave.
He goes for a long run out into the hills, needing to clear his head of the thoughts that won’t stop swirling around it. With each thud of his feet the thoughts rise and then settle down into a pool of reasoning and logic. One thought rises above the rest:
Something isn’t right here.
He doesn’t want to return to the village, but he does, and there’s something wrong. There’s an excitement in the air, but it’s not excitement, it’s something else. He follows the villagers rushing, and they’ve gathered together in a large group, the divide no longer in place. He sees the girl and the boy standing close, each holding the other’s hand tight. There’s a desperation in the gesture that makes him think that something is so very wrong, even though it looks like things are finally right again.
Then he hears it, off in the distance. A whine, and he knows that noise. The villagers have heard it too, and the girl clings tightly to the boy, before letting go. The village is dividing again, and the whine is coming closer. He raises his P90 and three of the villagers grab his arms and force him to drop it before he realises their intentions. He cannot tarnish their gifts, freely given, he hears.
He sees the boy mouth ‘I love you’, before vanishing in a flash of light and a whine that has given him nightmares for months.
The whine changes pitch as it gets further away and dwindles off until he can hear nothing. They let him go, and he stares around, wide eyed, at them. He stumbles, backing away, until there is a soft hand on his arm, and he looks into the eyes of someone else who understands his horror.
They leave straight away, the treaty unsigned. They don’t want something that is bought at that high a price.
His nights are filled with a whine and the boy’s eyes beseeching him to figure it out before it’s too late.
He wakes up knowing that he didn’t.
The memories and dreams fade over time.
02. An Athosian Christmas Tale - Gen, K+, no spoilers
Sheppard looked around at the Athosian children gathered before him, a small grin lighting his face. "So, that’s all you kids need to know about Jolly Old Santa Claus," he finished. "Any questions?"
A small girl sitting at the front of the group spoke. "So, this Santa Claus comes to everyone’s houses?"
"That’s right; as long as you’ve been good."
"And he comes down the chimney?"
"Yep!"
"But Atlantis does not have chimneys."
"That’s true." Sheppard nodded seriously. "Santa can also use the Stargate. He’s very adaptable that way."
"What if the planet you live on does not have a Stargate?" This time it was a small boy who spoke.
Sheppard frowned, scrunching his face up slightly as he thought. "That’s a good question. You know how I told you that Santa travels in a Sleigh that’s pulled by Reindeer?"
The children nodded, their small heads bobbing up and down.
"Well, the sleigh is rather like a Puddle Jumper. It has a retractable top so that it can fly through space. So, he can get to any planet, Stargate or not."
The small boy seemed to consider this idea, tilting his head to one side and frowning slightly. "But would not the reindeer die in space?" he asked.
Sheppard lifted an eyebrow. "Ah, no! They’re space reindeer. They can fly through space."
At this, the little boy nodded and there were several moments of uncomfortable silence. Several children had very thoughtful and intense looks on their faces and Sheppard sat grinning down at them.
"Look kids, it’s magic. You’re supposed to believe in it. No one has ever really seen Santa; they just see the proof that he’s been and left his gifts."
Just then, the door opened and McKay walked in. "Found you. Are you almost done?"
"Sure, McKay, we’re almost done. I was just explaining about Santa Claus."
McKay snickered. "This ought to be good."
Sheppard ignored him, but before he could continue, his ear com came alive. Major Sheppard. Please report to the Gate Room ASAP.
"On my way. Well kids, looks like I have to be going."
"Aww!" chimed the children. "We were hoping you would tell us of Elm Street again. That tale was very funny," one of the older children spoke up and the others nodded in agreement.
"Well, I’m sure McKay would be happy to finish telling you about Santa Claus."
Sheppard pushed Rodney toward the front of the room, as he gave a final wave and jogged out the door.
Rodney looked at the children in disdain, wondering about the easiest way to get out of there.
"Dr McKay?" The small boy at the back piped up again. "Do you believe in Santa? Major Sheppard says he drives a Puddle Jumper Sleigh led by Space reindeer and that he travels by Stargate. Oh and he has a big red coat and a beard."
Rodney sighed. "Look kid, you’re intelligent right?" The child nodded. "Then, like me, you are never going to believe in Santa Claus. This is all you need to know. If you pretend it’s all real, you’ll make the adults happy. Those adults then go out and buy gifts for you and pretend that Santa delivered them. So, the moral is, pretending you believe in Santa equals more gifts on Christmas Day."
"I think I finally understand. Thank you Dr McKay. What sort of gifts do you speak of?"
When Sheppard re-entered the room a short time later, he was surprised to find McKay surrounded by excitable children, carefully rehashing every detail of the tale of Santa Claus.
03. Cursing Sigmund Freud, spoilers at least till Michael
Teyla dreams at night.
***
"Why do they bother you so much?" Dr. Heightmeyer asks. Her hair gleams golden in the white-filtered sun; her face is pale but livened by a rosy flush on her cheeks. She purses her painted lips, pushing the questions out. "What do you think the dreams mean?"
"I do not know," Teyla tells her yet again. "But I wish they would stop."
Dr. Heightmeyer's lips slide into a smile that's full of secrets kept hidden. "The answer lies within you."
The answer may lie within Teyla, but she seeks outward. Something pulls her onward, forward, towards that piece of truth. The halls of Atlantis are dark and chilled as she paces through them, shadowed as if the city is hiding from itself. The metal beneath her feet is frigid. Teyla feels more unwelcome than she ever has before. As if Atlantis knows this terrible secret that Teyla seeks.
Carson and Elizabeth look up as she enters the infirmary, their faces drawn with exhaustion-and something else. They look at each other, and then back at her.
"You look like I feel," she says, but that is not the complete truth. Elizabeth's eyes give her away, the little muscles around them tight and fluttering like a wide-eyed doe about to take flight. Carson's Adam's apple can barely keep pace with his nervous swallows.
"Teyla, my dear." Carson's face contorts in a forced smile. "Please, sit down. We have something to tell you."
Elizabeth beckons. "Come, sit down."
Teyla wants to question them, wants to demand that they set aside their timid ways, but she steps forward. Stands before them, and watches their fearful faces as they try to speak.
"Teyla," Elizabeth begins again. "We've been up all night, translating. There's something you should know."
'Tell me,' she wants to scream, but she does not need them to do so. The answer is already screaming inside of her, just as Dr. Heightmeyer had said.
"There was an experiment," Carson continues. "By a scientist trying to find a solution for his people."
Carson freezes as she turns her gaze on him. She stares deep in his eyes, compelling the words from his throat.
"It's not my fault," he whimpers. "But Teyla, you're a Wraith."
She shakes her head, disbelieving, but Elizabeth holds up a round mirror cradled in her palm.
"It's true, Teyla. See for yourself."
Blue-tinged skin and yellowed eyes stare back at her. Her white hair streams down her back, frames the furrows in her face.
"My people say it is a gift," she whispers.
"Like the one you gave me?" Michael laughs in her ear. He meets her eyes in their reflection, pupils mere slits as they measure one another. His face is pressed so close that she can see exactly how different they are.
Michael looks more human.
"We are nothing alike," she spits, but the fangs in her mouth mangle her words.
Michael turns his head so that he can whisper in her ear. "You are wrong. One day, you will see that. And then you will come to me."
Teyla flees through the dark halls of Atlantis, but she cannot escape his reverberating laugh--or the hunger than burns inside.
***
At night, Teyla dreams.
04. The Gift of Flight - G, inspired by events in 'Rising'
Heads or tails.
Heads - adventure and discovery. An almost certain one-way trip through a stargate - a wormhole, for chrissakes - through to the Pegasus galaxy, with the chance of a new life in the fabled city of Atlantis, where anything might light up and dance at his slightest touch. But with no guarantee that he would ever get to fly again.
Tails - more of the same. The same earth beneath his feet; the same stars in the sky; the same sun burning heavy on his neck. The same people, traffic, smells, food, sounds. Johnny Cash and Ferris wheels. The same green, globally worshipped notes tucked away inside his billfold. And the sad, ever decreasing downward spiral that delineates his re-routed career path in the United States Air Force. With no hope of flying anything - anywhere - but for out of the way taxi runs and grocery deliveries. With nothing but the vaguely nauseating possibility of civilian life after that's all over, trapped in a perpetual hell of plebeian, commercial, arthritic people-carriers.
He hasn't told anyone that the coin came up tails on that first toss - or that the decision to go for 'best of three' turned into 'best of five' and then finally 'best of seven' - because that would mean openly taking responsibility for the decision to throw his life away. Except it didn't turn out that way. With a careless 'Follow me, Major', Rodney McKay not only gave John back his wings, he gave him back his life.
Okay, yeah, so technically speaking, John knows that Rodney hasn't actually given him the puddle jumpers, but, sitting in that seat and seeing everything lit up around him, humming, begging him to touch, to explore, to take control and soar, it sure feels like a gift - a gift beyond price.
05. Wish List - Rated R, AU
The Atlantis Mall was once the destination shopping spot for several states, with a variety of upscale designer shops, and the most popular anchoring stores. There was even a small amusement park by the food court, with an Atlantis themed wave pool, and a ferris wheel that gave riders a revolving view of all three stories of the attractively designed space.
Atlantis' parent company, The Stargate Corporation, had built shopping centers all over the country, their rotating circular entrances a well-known trademark. A Gate address was a thing of prestige. Most of the Stargate malls were holding their own, but for some reason Atlantis had not been able to live up to its promise.
Perhaps it was because unlike the other "'Gates", Atlantis had not been built new. Instead, an already existing building of unknown purpose -- and unbelievable beauty - had been re-purposed. Despite complaints that "This place is ancient," the period art deco design compelled the architects to renovate. Unfortunately, impeccable aesthetics weren't enough to keep customers returning.
"Atlantis. The Mall. The Myth," the joke went. Judging by the constantly diminishing revenues, the mall might just as well have sunk into the ocean.
There were times Rodney McKay wished that would happen, if only so he could go back to his research. He hadn't made a significant sale in days. That was what happened when you owned a store full of expensive adult toys in the midst of an economic downturn. Not the fun adult toys. No, Cadman's Cookie Jar was two doors down, and doing somewhat better than his Genius Gifts store. His store sold many of his own inventions -- and things he'd adapted from items found in the building's voluminous store-rooms -- it wasn't just an ersatz Sharper Image.
Once in a while he thought about picking up a little something - or even a big something -- at Cadman's store. But she was so nosy, he didn't want to buy a dildo and feel like she was in his head, knowing just who he was thinking about while he used it. Employee discount or not, he'd have to shop elsewhere.
Laura was nice enough, but she was always trying to set people up. The wrong people. Case in point, his botched date with Kate Heightneyer. In charge of hiring, she'd tried to give him psychological tests disguised as dinner conversation, and insisted that his citrus allergy was a sure sign of a personality disorder.
Rodney didn't need that. He'd mostly ignored her, instead watching the scarily attractive chef at Sateda's, Ronon Dex. The man was magic with a knife, and the food brought people running from miles around.
Still, there was really only one Atlantis employee Rodney wanted.
Major John Sheppard ran the Air Force recruiting office, but he spent more time on the ferris wheel, and bothering Rodney at his store, than actually recruiting. For some inexplicable reason, every time he came into Genius Gifts, random items would light up, buzz, or begin activating.
John teased Rodney like a junior high school boy yanking a girl's braid because he liked her, and if Rodney squinted, he could almost believe he was flirting.
Elizabeth Weir, Atlantis' Community Relations Manager, was sure of it. One of the few people with whom Rodney had discussed the matter, she had encouraged him to be honest with John. "He's an open-minded guy, Rodney. You'd be surprised."
In case she was right, he convinced Radek Zelenka (who owned the mall's Radio Shack) to join Teyla's gym with him, and got into better shape.
It never hurt to be prepared.
06. Toys - PG, No Spoilers
"Look, Rodney, I’m sure it’s interesting, but right now I just don’t care." Sheppard was tired. He was bruised, broken, and lying in the infirmary, which always put him in a bad mood. But here Rodney was, sitting obliviously next to his bed, rambling on about the science department’s latest discovery. Another day, Sheppard might’ve feigned interest, but now he was too tired and sore to be anything but annoyed.
"Interesting? It’s one of the most important discoveries we’ve made since coming here! I thought you’d be pestering me about new security equipment by now. We know how the Ancients interfaced the gene with their technology. And now that we know, we can do it, too. Carson was over the moon about how much this was going to help his research. I’m surprised you’re not excited. It’s going to be incredibly useful, not to mention really, really cool."
He probably would’ve been excited had he been paying attention when Rodney said it the first time, Sheppard thought. He might be excited now if he weren’t so damn tired. But he was tired, and all he wanted to do was kick Rodney out so he could be grumpy and broody and tired in private. And he didn’t mind saying so. "Look, Rodney, it is amazing, but I’m kinda beat right now, so if you don’t mind - "
"Yes, sorry, of course you’re worn out. I didn’t mean to stay this long; that whole conversation was a preface to me giving you this."
Funny, John thought conversations involved two people and giving - wait, giving him what? Rodney was reaching down beside his chair and picking up something silvery, about the size of a paperback novel. Was that…
"A toy puddlejumper?"
Rodney somehow managed to huff and look smug at the same time. "Not just a toy puddlejumper. Watch." He did, as Rodney set the mini-jumper back on the floor, staring at it. Sheppard gasped as it lifted and floated towards the bed, settling on his lap. When he looked back up at Rodney both men were grinning. This was so cool.
"It works up to about 5 meters, and I didn’t put in any special features, so it’s a little like a remote-control car, except that it’s so much better than that. Carson and I tested it out for safety yesterday; it’s harmless, guaranteed not to fry your brain or anything like that."
Sheppard raised an eyebrow, Rodney would consider the brain-frying possibilities first, but his grin didn’t falter, because he had a mini-jumper, and even if Rodney hadn’t put in anything cool - hold on…
"You made this?"
"Of course; I had to see if we could utilize the technology on our own, and I figured you’re mentally about eight years old anyway, you could probably use another toy."
Sheppard wanted to get him back for that age comment, but at the moment he was too pleased with his toy to bother. "Thanks, Rodney."
Rodney flushed, like he always did when people thanked him. "You’re welcome. Well, it’s late, I should…" He gestured towards the door.
"Yeah, I think I’m gonna get some rest." And he was. His bad mood had been completely short-circuited by Rodney’s present and now all he wanted to do was sleep.
"Well, then. Goodnight, Sheppard."
"Night, Rodney. And thanks, really." Rodney paused and gave his friend a half-smile before leaving. John lay there for a moment before thinking the lights down. He looked at his mini-jumper and guided it over to rest on the table beside him before closing his eyes and slipping off to sleep.
07. Incongruous - PG, general spoilers for S2
"Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?" John asked, settling in easily while Rodney pulled at his wet, stiff jeans, trying desperately to get comfortable. The rain was obviously the universe’s joke on them, but this car proved that the SGC had a lousy sense of humor as well. The only way they could reasonably fit their combined mass into such a tiny space, would be if the car was accelerating infinitely fast. And judging by its pitiful size, Rodney figured this North American wonder probably topped out at seventy-five.
Shrugging his shoulders, Rodney wiped the window with his sleeve. It didn’t matter where they went. They were needed back in Atlantis, but pre-flight checks had found a crack in the main power-coupling onboard the Daedalus. What was supposed to have been a quick briefing to the SGC on the Wraith threat was turning into bureaucratic nightmare as meetings were planned in the wake of the delayed launch.
During the fifth hour of the Near-Earth Defense Budget Allocation Meeting, Sheppard picked up his things and walked out, stopping only long enough to ask Rodney if he wanted to come along. Rodney had blinked and looked around at the room full of delegates, but General Landry hadn’t stopped them from leaving.
"I’ve never been to Niagara Falls," Rodney said, figuring at most, he was in for a few hours of aimless driving around. He was shocked when Sheppard nodded and put the car in drive. "Wait. You’re not seriously going to drive there, are you?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Because of a million reasons--we have to go back to Atlantis--"
"In two weeks."
"Yes. But the meetings--"
"Do you think they’ll be more productive than driving around the countryside?"
"Well...no, but--"
"Exactly."
***
Five hours later, Rodney figured the only reason Sheppard pulled off the I-25 into a gas stop was because they were driving on fumes.
"Are you going for some kind of driving marathon?" Rodney asked, cracking his back as he uncurled his legs and stood up.
"Sorry." Sheppard said, getting out as well. "I had to get away. Listening to all that bullshit and arguing about who was going to pay for what instead of figuring out how to stop the Wraith from coming here, made me want to scream. It was like the walls were closing in on me. I have no idea how Elizabeth puts up with that stuff on a regular basis, or how you managed to just sit there, either."
"It helps to be a misanthrope some days."
A snort came from Sheppard as he leaned down and started pumping some gas. "You don’t really hate everyone."
"No, you’re right. Only the stupid people. Of which we have an abundance of."
Sheppard finally cracked a smile and Rodney grinned back despite the rain that was still drizzling down, the grumbling in his stomach and the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere. A sudden thought occurred to him and he trotted off to the store, returning a minute later. "Here’s a map. My treat."
"I don’t need this. We’ll go north until we hit Canada, then hang a right. How hard can it be?"
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Well, at this rate, we’re going to end up in Saskatoon. And believe me; if you’re looking for a reminder of something worth fighting for, it’s best if we avoided all the Prairie provinces in general. And Nebraska too, just to be safe."
John laughed. "Philanthropy from a misanthrope?"
"The irony is killing me, believe me."
08. Please Don't Be Disappointed - G, Spoilers for 'Duet', Carson/Laura
Carson may not have the most experience with relationships, but he's still pretty sure that his new girlfriend's birthday requires a gift, and a nice one at that. But this relationship is still new to him, and he's not quite sure what Laura would want. And even if he did know, he happens to be in a galaxy far from home, and he isn't sure where he's supposed to find a retail shop in the Pegasus galaxy.
So, he goes to his normal source of advice when he has a problem. He goes to Teyla.
"I haven't had much interaction with Lt. Cadman," she says after he’s talked to her. "What kind of person is she?"
"Well," he replies, "I know that she has a dog back home. And she likes to run. And she's extremely pretty, and nice to people, with the possible exception of McKay."
Teyla raises an eyebrow at him. "Is that all?"
"Aye, I know it’s not much. That's my problem."
"Well, Cadman likes you, and you like her," says Teyla, in that reassuring tone of voice that always manages to make Carson feel better. "I'm sure whatever you get her, she'll love it."
***
And so, later, having not had any better ideas, Carson decides to go for the traditional option that always seemed to make best female friend in medical school happy - chocolate and flowers. Generally a tactic reserved for Valentine’s Day, but also well received for a variety of other occasions. He’s already got a promise from Teyla to set him up with some of the nicer flowers found on the mainland, and now he just has to work on the chocolate.
"Rodney, I need your help with something."
"What? I'm sort of busy now, Carson."
"It's Laura's birthday Tuesday," says Carson.
"Well, that's wonderful. I'll be sure to get something nice for her," says Rodney, his voice full of sarcasm. "How about a hand grenade with the pin taken out? She likes explosives, right?"
"Don't be vicious, Rodney. I was wondering if you had any candy left over from the stash you had sent on the Daedelus. Preferably chocolate."
"I have a question - how come whenever anybody thinks of chocolate, they come to me?" asks Rodney. "I mean, do I smell like it or something, or is this maybe a really unflattering assumption based on the fact that maybe I’m not as, shall we say, anemic as - "
"Rodney," interrupts and exasperated Carson, "Yes or no - do you have chocolate?"
"Well, yes, but there’s no way in hell I’m giving it to Cadman."
"Look, I’ll give you whatever you want, just give me the damn candy," says Carson.
"No way," says Rodney, seeming to take no small amount of glee in Carson’s predicament. Carson sighs.
"You do realize," he says, in the most serious and threatening tone he can manage, "that as the Chief Medical Officer of this expedition, I have ample material with which to blackmail you into doing as I please."
"You’ve got to be kidding," say Rodney, but Carson doesn’t change his expression. "That’s a huge violation of your medial ethics!"
Carson continues to stare at Rodney. He’s never been good at intimidating people, but this is important, so he gives it his best shot.
"Fine," says Rodney after a minute, although he doesn’t stop complaining under his breath as Carson follows him back to his room.
***
He stands in front of Laura’s room with flowers, chocolate and what is probably an overly sappy card in his hand. He breathes in deep, knocks on her door and hopes for the best.
09. Shells - No spoilers
John Sheppard knew he was just another body, another bundle of bones strung up in meat and skin, lit up by the electrical force of life. He knew that his green-eyed, black-haired, lean-bodied self was no more or less valuable than anyone else.
He knew when he viewed the body bags, lined up neatly in Atlantis’ coldest room - a makeshift morgue, that everyone was the same when you really got down to essentials. Some people somewhere loved them as much as anyone anywhere loved John and probably a lot more. They would be missed and mourned.
He wasn’t special, not in ways that mattered.
John made himself unzip every bag. The bodies inside were cold, stripped of their personalities and feelings. The dead didn’t care that he was here. He told them goodbye anyway and that he was sorry. That was the least he could do.
People relied on him. People’s lives were at stake - other people’s lives - people whose names he didn’t even know. He tried to learn them all, but that was near to impossible in a place this size. It wasn’t just his buddies and his fellow soldiers whose lives were on the line - it was a whole city full of people, people who were made of flesh and bones and who had whole, full lives behind them… and hopefully, with any luck, ahead of them. If they ended up here, it was because John had failed to protect them.
John couldn’t forget that - wouldn't let himself forget that - especially when he was in the presence of those bags. Black and formal, they sat like a silent audience, zipped close around the obvious lumps inside. There was no pretending those bags were empty or full of straw.
If he stared hard enough, they moved as if whatever was inside was taking a breath.
"There are always going to be those that can’t be saved," Elizabeth had told him once, when she saw him coming out of the morgue. John knew she was right, but wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. Admitting it would be a failure and in his position, failure was not an option. He only gave up on saving a man or a woman when he saw them lying here, the gray zipper framing their face, lips blue or with only the faintest touch of pink.
That’s when he let them go. That’s when he let them slip from his grasp, like silt or sand grasped from the bottom of the ocean when a big wave drove him all the way under and he forgot where the sky was.
He let them go so that he could come up again for air.
***
When the bodies were finally moved from Atlantis, they traveled for weeks on board the Daedalus, and ended up in a lab at the SGC, where Sam Carter oversaw all the official autopsies. She was somewhat surprised to see that each soldier, each scientist, each staff member who was revealed when the body bags were stripped away had a small shell enfolded in their left hand.
The shells had a strange, alien shape, but were of varied and beautiful colors, some with long spines that looked like the spires of Atlantis itself. Tiny grains of sand spilled out when she set them aside and Sam was left to wonder about the marvelous creatures that had lived inside these shells, and she was grateful that the beautiful husk, like the memory of a person, was still there to be enjoyed.
10. Some Freely - Teen, tag to Conversion
It was dark.
Wherever he was, it was dark. And darkness was... good. Darkness was safe. When it was dark, no one could see you.
He couldn't quite remember why this was so important, not yet; he only knew that it was.
There were things with him in the darkness, though. Soft voices not far from him, mingling with a steady beep from his right. Coarse fabric underneath his right hand, and a warm, heavy weight pressing down his left. Smell, antiseptic and something familiar.
Belatedly, it occurred to him the only reason it was dark was that his eyes were closed.
And then it all came back.
The retrovirus, turning him into something different. How, for a short while, he'd been next to invincible - invulnerable, his mind sing-songed. He'd been climbing walls, seeing the delicate, silvery lines that were a man's life force. He'd been able to run faster, jump higher, take anything he wanted.
He'd been more.
No wonder the Wraith thought themselves superior, if this was what they were like. Only he suspected the whole experience had been more of a Wraith kind of 'back to the roots'. There'd been something wild inside him, and the stunner blasts hadn't so much as tickled when they'd hit. Not even a Wraith could have taken him, of that he was sure. He had become more.
Except he'd been losing so much in the process. His appearance first, then his thoughts as they became jumbled; his mind, his emotions, his humanity. Himself.
He shuddered as he remembered. Not a care in the world but hunger. No conscience, no fear, no love, no memories, no compassion, no mercy, nothing. Nothing. Just hunger. If that was the price to have the strength of a Wraith, then it had been too high.
He had refused to pay it, though. Had been kept on the right side of sanity long enough to help them save him. And it had worked, that much he knew; even if his body still felt strange, in his mind, he was himself.
John opened his eyes, then. Left the dark place behind for the familiarity of the infirmary. Teyla was talking quietly to Ronon; he could see them both through a gap in his privacy curtain. The lights had been dimmed, probably out of consideration for his alien eyes, even though his vision was almost back to normal. He looked at Rodney, who had fallen asleep, his face resting on John's blue-scaled hand, mouth slightly open: childlike, trusting, and thankfully not drooling yet. Something hard and painful clenched inside his chest, and he swallowed although his throat was dry.
No love.
Some things weren't worth their price, he knew that now. Others, thankfully, you got for free.
11. Death is Your Gift - pg-13, spoilers for 305, title from a Buffy episode
"I don’t get you," Rodney said as he barged into John’s quarters.
John closed the book he hadn’t been reading and sat up. "What’s to get?"
Rodney snorted. "Everything. But this time I’m talking about the mission report." He waved away whatever look he saw on John’s face. "Yes, yes, I know it was classified, but that’s not the point here. The point is even though it was classified, I read the report."
"So you read the report, and don’t think we won’t be talking about this at a future time, McKay," John said. "And it was so interesting that you felt the need to rush right on down to my quarters at" - he checked his watch - "three in the morning?"
"Yes!" Rodney said.
John rolled his eyes and picked up his book. "You know the way out."
Rodney ignored him and sat down in his desk chair. "I don’t get you," he said again, sounding subdued. "Is that how you’ve planned your future? Dying to save us all, whether we want you to or not?"
"I don’t have a death wish," John said. He was beginning to get pissed and he really wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation. Not ever, but especially not in the middle of the night when he’d been caught off-guard.
"Of course you don’t have a death wish!" Rodney snapped, looking, if possible, even more annoyed. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your default response to every single problem we have is to sacrifice yourself for the greater good."
"That’s my job, Rodney!" Lowering his voice down to a calmer tone, John added, "That’s what I’m supposed to do. It’s the one thing I can do - buy you all a little more time."
"A little more time for what? So I can save the day? I can be the hero? Do you really think I want the path to my Nobel flooded with your blood?" Rodney was furious - more furious than John had ever seen him. "Do you really think that’s all you can do for us? Do you really think that’s what I want you to do for us? Because if you do, you’d better get down to the infirmary so that Carson can find something large and heavy and hit you with it."
"Rodney -" John started. He really didn’t want to be doing this right now. The memory loop had been running constantly in his head all night: the speed of the attack, Elizabeth’s confusion, Rodney’s terror and anger, the ripping loss of watching them run through the gate coupled with incredible relief that they were all safe, he’d done it. Then, nothing but white. "Sometimes, there needs to be -"
"God, just shut up." Rodney slumped down into the chair, sounding exhausted. "Don’t even try to give me that ‘needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few’ crap. You want to give the gift of life? Fine. How about your own life? Start seeing yourself as more than cannon-fodder."
John couldn’t think of a response. He absently traced the designs on his bedspread and tried to look anywhere that wasn’t Rodney’s face.
"You don’t have anything to say, huh? I’m not surprised." Rodney got up and walked to the door, waving his hand over the control. "Maybe someday I’ll get lucky and you’ll surprise me after all."
John waited until the sounds of Rodney’s footsteps had faded, then threw his book across the room. Hours later, he tried to fall asleep, but the loop kept on playing and playing, until finally, there was nothing but white.
12. Wax On, Wax Off - PG-13, Spoilers for Sateda
Carson pulled his instrument tray closer. "You know, Rodney, I shouldn’t be seeing the arse of anyone I’m not dating nearly this often."
Rodney tried to crane his head around to glare at Carson. "Very funny. You should take that act on the road."
"Beats taking one in the ass. Again," John said from where he was leaning against Rodney’s bed, his back to Rodney.
"If he’d only taken one, you probably could have handled this in the field. It’s the twenty plus of them that’s causing the problem, not to mention the number of glochidia that have to be in there." Carson said as he finished cutting away Rodney’s pants and shorts.
"Number of what?!" Rodney asked, alarmed that there was something other than pieces of cactus in his ass.
"Glochidia. The smaller spines. Don’t worry, we have methods for getting those out too. Now, hold still. This is going to sting."
Rodney gripped the pillow, white-knuckled.
John flinched a little as Carson began plucking out the larger spines with a tweezers. Turning back around he said casually, "You know, Rodney, for someone who’s sick of being the butt of everyone’s jokes, you make it awfully easy for us."
"Very fun-ny, Col-nel," Rodney said, his speech interrupted as he caught his breath each time Carson plucked.
John hooked a stool with his foot and sat so that he was eye-level with Rodney. "So explain this to me… How the hell did you come to sit on a cactus?"
"I fell. I slipped on a rock under the sand and fell - ow! - backwards."
"That’s the last of the large ones. Now for the glochidia. Be right back." Carson patted Rodney’s back as he left to retrieve more supplies.
"Well, at least now when someone asks you what crawled up your ass and died, you’ll have an answer for them." John continued to torment.
"Yes, you," Rodney retorted, thinking that there was something wrong about that answer, but dismissing it.
"I’m flattered, but I’m seeing someone," John tossed back. "Not to mention… I think your butt’s going to be out of commission for a while after this one."
Carson came back after a minute with a jar that looked distinctly non-medical.
Rodney squinted, "What is that?"
"Depilitory wax. We spread it over the little spines, wait for it to cool and when we rip it off, the spines come with." Carson began spreading the wax before Rodney could think too hard about it.
John, on the other hand, was able to figure it out quite a bit faster. "Oh my god! You’re getting your ass waxed!"
"Thank you, Colonel, you’re making this so much more bearable," Rodney grumbled.
Finishing, Carson set the jar down. "That should do it. It’ll need a few minutes to set and grab the spines. How’s the pain?"
Rodney sighed. "Manageable, I suppose."
"When you’re done, I’ll give you some codeine." He patted Rodney’s leg. "Colonel, do you have a minute?"
John stood up, "Sure." He followed Carson into his office.
They both took a seat. "You weren’t here when Rodney took that arrow, but he was bloody impossible to treat. It seems to have made a difference having you here today. I gave him a bit of lidocane when we started, but I was really ready for a battle with him. For as much as you complain about him, you do seem to handle him quite well."
John shrugged off the compliment. " Ability to cope with pain-in-the-ass scientists… I guess it’s a gift. Some days it’s one I’d like to return."
13. Love, War, and Reunions - PG-13, No Spoilers
The Lorne family reunion--technically, the McInerney family reunion--was held at the Keyhole Country Club, Pine Haven, Wyoming.
Picking up his beer and scanning crowds of people in the main dining room, Nick wasn't sure why he'd come. He didn't really have anything in common with the rest of his family--most of them farmers, ranchers, and engineers--but his mom wanted all of her boys to come some year, so this time, Nick had. He hoped it made up for some of the many times he'd missed Easter, the Fourth of July, or Thanksgiving.
Anyway, he was still recuperating from getting his leg slashed up in the last Wraith firefight. He really didn't like limping around the halls of Atlantis, seeing the concerned looks on everyone's faces, or the way Dr. Weir looked at him, her eyes so full of guilt.
"Excuse me?"
Nick glanced away toward the speaker. She was about 16, with wood-brown hair pulled back with barrettes and wearing cotton sundress. He wondered if she'd sewed it herself.
"Hello," he said, nodding at her. "I'm Nick. Nick Lorne. And you're--"
"Sarah McInerney." Of course. "Uhm, listen," She stared down at the floor a second, then back at Nick. "They told me you were in the military, and that you'd been injured."
"That's right." Nothing classified about that.
"Well, the bishop talked to us all at youth group last Wednesday, about, you know, making stuff for people overseas--"
Oh, for the love of-- "I'm fine, really--" He held up his hand to stop her, but she barreled on through, scientist-fast.
"And I was wondering if you could tell me how to find my aunt, so I could send her something."
That took Nick aback. "I'm sorry. You're looking for your aunt?"
"Well, she's kinda my aunt," the girl said solemnly. "She's a friend of my mom from college, and she's not exactly military, more a civilian contractor? I think." Her mouth pursed. "We lost track of her a couple of years ago. She used to work for the U.N." She twisted the fabric of her dress between her fingers.
Wow. Nick had no idea where to start. "What's her name?"
"Elizabeth Weir," she said, and then corrected herself: "Dr. Elizabeth Weir."
***
Lorne stood just outside Elizabeth's closed office door, waving the package in his hand, a big grin on his face. He didn't limp at all anymore, and it was great to be back. Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and motioned him in.
"I thought Sergeant Campbell normally delivered the mail?" she asked as Lorne handed her the bundle.
"He does ma'am, but as I was already on the Daedalus when she landed, I figured I'd take advantage of the situation." He slid into the chair across from her. "Just call me Santa Claus."
"Well, thank you, Major Claus. It's good to have you back." She smiled at him, the warmth in her eyes more than her tone telling him how welcome he was.
She picked up the brown paper wrapped package and looked at the label: written in red, crosses on the front, and a return address in Gillette, Wyoming. "It's from my niece Sarah," she said, sounding a bit overwhelmed. "She's never sent me anything before." She glanced at Lorne. "You think it's cookies, don't you?"
"I detected the faint odor of chocolate chips about it."
"If you're right, I promise to share." She tore the paper opening the box, and the delight on her face was better than Christmas.
14. Device - G, spoilers for Hide and Seek
Tolus ran his hands through his hair again. "What are you doing? The control chair is short of drones, three ships need repairs, and the shield--"
"Be quiet. I'm being brilliant."
"We don't have time for you to be brilliant, Jolden."
"I think you'll find that we do." Jolden made a last-minute adjustment to the device in front of him, which glowed a satisfied green. "Perfect. Now all I need is--"
Commander Seyna rushed in the lab door. "What is it that's so urgent, Jolden? We're about to leave. I don't have time--"
"I know, I know. I have something for you." Jolden held out the device.
"What is it?"
"Here." Jolden pressed it to the front of Seyna's uniform and activated it. "Now--" He shoved both hands at Seyna. Seyna flinched back, but Jolden's hands never touched him. Jolden and Seyna stared at the ripple of energy that was visible between then.
"A personal shield." Seyna exchanged a smile of pure delight with Jolden.
"It's a prototype. Experimental. I--I need you to report back to me about its effectiveness so I can build more."
"I promise." Seyna took a step back. Tolus looked back to his work as the commander said, "Thank you, Jolden."
***
"It worked!" Commander Seyna burst in the room. "Jolden!" His uniform tunic was singed on one side, and his face and hair were filthy, but he was beaming. "Look, it worked!"
He looked at the empty desk, then over at Tolus. His smile faded.
"Jolden was repairing a malfunctioning weapons console. There was an explosion." Tolus forced himself to keep his eyes on Seyna's. "He was killed instantly."
Seyna stared at him a moment longer. Then he took a few awkward steps to Jolden's desk. He put the shield down gently.
"I am sorry," Tolus said.
"It worked," Seyna said quietly.
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01. Divide - general audience, no spoilers
They are a rag-tag bunch of villagers, clearly kept ostracised from the rest of the group. All teens or older, both sexes, all seemingly scared. No one will talk about who they are, or why they are separated from the rest, and it scares him.
He keeps catching a girl in the village shooting glances over at the outcast group, her eyes seeming to follow a boy her own age. She looks away quickly each time, like she’s been caught doing something wrong.
The boy stares longingly at her when she’s not looking his way, until one of the villagers notices and glares at him. The boy stops, his face guilty, but starts again a while later.
He tries to corner the girl, sensing that just maybe she’ll tell him what this is all about; but she hurries away, a look of distress on her face when he approaches her. He doesn’t see her again, except at a distance.
He tries to talk to the boy, but the villagers stop him from getting close to the outcast group. He asks, frustrated, why are they doing this? He just wants to talk to the boy. No one will answer him.
He’s not sure how much more of the divide he can stand. It will take a few more days for the trade negotiations to finish, but he wants to either find out what the mystery is right now or leave.
He goes for a long run out into the hills, needing to clear his head of the thoughts that won’t stop swirling around it. With each thud of his feet the thoughts rise and then settle down into a pool of reasoning and logic. One thought rises above the rest:
Something isn’t right here.
He doesn’t want to return to the village, but he does, and there’s something wrong. There’s an excitement in the air, but it’s not excitement, it’s something else. He follows the villagers rushing, and they’ve gathered together in a large group, the divide no longer in place. He sees the girl and the boy standing close, each holding the other’s hand tight. There’s a desperation in the gesture that makes him think that something is so very wrong, even though it looks like things are finally right again.
Then he hears it, off in the distance. A whine, and he knows that noise. The villagers have heard it too, and the girl clings tightly to the boy, before letting go. The village is dividing again, and the whine is coming closer. He raises his P90 and three of the villagers grab his arms and force him to drop it before he realises their intentions. He cannot tarnish their gifts, freely given, he hears.
He sees the boy mouth ‘I love you’, before vanishing in a flash of light and a whine that has given him nightmares for months.
The whine changes pitch as it gets further away and dwindles off until he can hear nothing. They let him go, and he stares around, wide eyed, at them. He stumbles, backing away, until there is a soft hand on his arm, and he looks into the eyes of someone else who understands his horror.
They leave straight away, the treaty unsigned. They don’t want something that is bought at that high a price.
His nights are filled with a whine and the boy’s eyes beseeching him to figure it out before it’s too late.
He wakes up knowing that he didn’t.
The memories and dreams fade over time.
02. An Athosian Christmas Tale - Gen, K+, no spoilers
Sheppard looked around at the Athosian children gathered before him, a small grin lighting his face. "So, that’s all you kids need to know about Jolly Old Santa Claus," he finished. "Any questions?"
A small girl sitting at the front of the group spoke. "So, this Santa Claus comes to everyone’s houses?"
"That’s right; as long as you’ve been good."
"And he comes down the chimney?"
"Yep!"
"But Atlantis does not have chimneys."
"That’s true." Sheppard nodded seriously. "Santa can also use the Stargate. He’s very adaptable that way."
"What if the planet you live on does not have a Stargate?" This time it was a small boy who spoke.
Sheppard frowned, scrunching his face up slightly as he thought. "That’s a good question. You know how I told you that Santa travels in a Sleigh that’s pulled by Reindeer?"
The children nodded, their small heads bobbing up and down.
"Well, the sleigh is rather like a Puddle Jumper. It has a retractable top so that it can fly through space. So, he can get to any planet, Stargate or not."
The small boy seemed to consider this idea, tilting his head to one side and frowning slightly. "But would not the reindeer die in space?" he asked.
Sheppard lifted an eyebrow. "Ah, no! They’re space reindeer. They can fly through space."
At this, the little boy nodded and there were several moments of uncomfortable silence. Several children had very thoughtful and intense looks on their faces and Sheppard sat grinning down at them.
"Look kids, it’s magic. You’re supposed to believe in it. No one has ever really seen Santa; they just see the proof that he’s been and left his gifts."
Just then, the door opened and McKay walked in. "Found you. Are you almost done?"
"Sure, McKay, we’re almost done. I was just explaining about Santa Claus."
McKay snickered. "This ought to be good."
Sheppard ignored him, but before he could continue, his ear com came alive. Major Sheppard. Please report to the Gate Room ASAP.
"On my way. Well kids, looks like I have to be going."
"Aww!" chimed the children. "We were hoping you would tell us of Elm Street again. That tale was very funny," one of the older children spoke up and the others nodded in agreement.
"Well, I’m sure McKay would be happy to finish telling you about Santa Claus."
Sheppard pushed Rodney toward the front of the room, as he gave a final wave and jogged out the door.
Rodney looked at the children in disdain, wondering about the easiest way to get out of there.
"Dr McKay?" The small boy at the back piped up again. "Do you believe in Santa? Major Sheppard says he drives a Puddle Jumper Sleigh led by Space reindeer and that he travels by Stargate. Oh and he has a big red coat and a beard."
Rodney sighed. "Look kid, you’re intelligent right?" The child nodded. "Then, like me, you are never going to believe in Santa Claus. This is all you need to know. If you pretend it’s all real, you’ll make the adults happy. Those adults then go out and buy gifts for you and pretend that Santa delivered them. So, the moral is, pretending you believe in Santa equals more gifts on Christmas Day."
"I think I finally understand. Thank you Dr McKay. What sort of gifts do you speak of?"
When Sheppard re-entered the room a short time later, he was surprised to find McKay surrounded by excitable children, carefully rehashing every detail of the tale of Santa Claus.
03. Cursing Sigmund Freud, spoilers at least till Michael
Teyla dreams at night.
***
"Why do they bother you so much?" Dr. Heightmeyer asks. Her hair gleams golden in the white-filtered sun; her face is pale but livened by a rosy flush on her cheeks. She purses her painted lips, pushing the questions out. "What do you think the dreams mean?"
"I do not know," Teyla tells her yet again. "But I wish they would stop."
Dr. Heightmeyer's lips slide into a smile that's full of secrets kept hidden. "The answer lies within you."
The answer may lie within Teyla, but she seeks outward. Something pulls her onward, forward, towards that piece of truth. The halls of Atlantis are dark and chilled as she paces through them, shadowed as if the city is hiding from itself. The metal beneath her feet is frigid. Teyla feels more unwelcome than she ever has before. As if Atlantis knows this terrible secret that Teyla seeks.
Carson and Elizabeth look up as she enters the infirmary, their faces drawn with exhaustion-and something else. They look at each other, and then back at her.
"You look like I feel," she says, but that is not the complete truth. Elizabeth's eyes give her away, the little muscles around them tight and fluttering like a wide-eyed doe about to take flight. Carson's Adam's apple can barely keep pace with his nervous swallows.
"Teyla, my dear." Carson's face contorts in a forced smile. "Please, sit down. We have something to tell you."
Elizabeth beckons. "Come, sit down."
Teyla wants to question them, wants to demand that they set aside their timid ways, but she steps forward. Stands before them, and watches their fearful faces as they try to speak.
"Teyla," Elizabeth begins again. "We've been up all night, translating. There's something you should know."
'Tell me,' she wants to scream, but she does not need them to do so. The answer is already screaming inside of her, just as Dr. Heightmeyer had said.
"There was an experiment," Carson continues. "By a scientist trying to find a solution for his people."
Carson freezes as she turns her gaze on him. She stares deep in his eyes, compelling the words from his throat.
"It's not my fault," he whimpers. "But Teyla, you're a Wraith."
She shakes her head, disbelieving, but Elizabeth holds up a round mirror cradled in her palm.
"It's true, Teyla. See for yourself."
Blue-tinged skin and yellowed eyes stare back at her. Her white hair streams down her back, frames the furrows in her face.
"My people say it is a gift," she whispers.
"Like the one you gave me?" Michael laughs in her ear. He meets her eyes in their reflection, pupils mere slits as they measure one another. His face is pressed so close that she can see exactly how different they are.
Michael looks more human.
"We are nothing alike," she spits, but the fangs in her mouth mangle her words.
Michael turns his head so that he can whisper in her ear. "You are wrong. One day, you will see that. And then you will come to me."
Teyla flees through the dark halls of Atlantis, but she cannot escape his reverberating laugh--or the hunger than burns inside.
***
At night, Teyla dreams.
04. The Gift of Flight - G, inspired by events in 'Rising'
Heads or tails.
Heads - adventure and discovery. An almost certain one-way trip through a stargate - a wormhole, for chrissakes - through to the Pegasus galaxy, with the chance of a new life in the fabled city of Atlantis, where anything might light up and dance at his slightest touch. But with no guarantee that he would ever get to fly again.
Tails - more of the same. The same earth beneath his feet; the same stars in the sky; the same sun burning heavy on his neck. The same people, traffic, smells, food, sounds. Johnny Cash and Ferris wheels. The same green, globally worshipped notes tucked away inside his billfold. And the sad, ever decreasing downward spiral that delineates his re-routed career path in the United States Air Force. With no hope of flying anything - anywhere - but for out of the way taxi runs and grocery deliveries. With nothing but the vaguely nauseating possibility of civilian life after that's all over, trapped in a perpetual hell of plebeian, commercial, arthritic people-carriers.
He hasn't told anyone that the coin came up tails on that first toss - or that the decision to go for 'best of three' turned into 'best of five' and then finally 'best of seven' - because that would mean openly taking responsibility for the decision to throw his life away. Except it didn't turn out that way. With a careless 'Follow me, Major', Rodney McKay not only gave John back his wings, he gave him back his life.
Okay, yeah, so technically speaking, John knows that Rodney hasn't actually given him the puddle jumpers, but, sitting in that seat and seeing everything lit up around him, humming, begging him to touch, to explore, to take control and soar, it sure feels like a gift - a gift beyond price.
05. Wish List - Rated R, AU
The Atlantis Mall was once the destination shopping spot for several states, with a variety of upscale designer shops, and the most popular anchoring stores. There was even a small amusement park by the food court, with an Atlantis themed wave pool, and a ferris wheel that gave riders a revolving view of all three stories of the attractively designed space.
Atlantis' parent company, The Stargate Corporation, had built shopping centers all over the country, their rotating circular entrances a well-known trademark. A Gate address was a thing of prestige. Most of the Stargate malls were holding their own, but for some reason Atlantis had not been able to live up to its promise.
Perhaps it was because unlike the other "'Gates", Atlantis had not been built new. Instead, an already existing building of unknown purpose -- and unbelievable beauty - had been re-purposed. Despite complaints that "This place is ancient," the period art deco design compelled the architects to renovate. Unfortunately, impeccable aesthetics weren't enough to keep customers returning.
"Atlantis. The Mall. The Myth," the joke went. Judging by the constantly diminishing revenues, the mall might just as well have sunk into the ocean.
There were times Rodney McKay wished that would happen, if only so he could go back to his research. He hadn't made a significant sale in days. That was what happened when you owned a store full of expensive adult toys in the midst of an economic downturn. Not the fun adult toys. No, Cadman's Cookie Jar was two doors down, and doing somewhat better than his Genius Gifts store. His store sold many of his own inventions -- and things he'd adapted from items found in the building's voluminous store-rooms -- it wasn't just an ersatz Sharper Image.
Once in a while he thought about picking up a little something - or even a big something -- at Cadman's store. But she was so nosy, he didn't want to buy a dildo and feel like she was in his head, knowing just who he was thinking about while he used it. Employee discount or not, he'd have to shop elsewhere.
Laura was nice enough, but she was always trying to set people up. The wrong people. Case in point, his botched date with Kate Heightneyer. In charge of hiring, she'd tried to give him psychological tests disguised as dinner conversation, and insisted that his citrus allergy was a sure sign of a personality disorder.
Rodney didn't need that. He'd mostly ignored her, instead watching the scarily attractive chef at Sateda's, Ronon Dex. The man was magic with a knife, and the food brought people running from miles around.
Still, there was really only one Atlantis employee Rodney wanted.
Major John Sheppard ran the Air Force recruiting office, but he spent more time on the ferris wheel, and bothering Rodney at his store, than actually recruiting. For some inexplicable reason, every time he came into Genius Gifts, random items would light up, buzz, or begin activating.
John teased Rodney like a junior high school boy yanking a girl's braid because he liked her, and if Rodney squinted, he could almost believe he was flirting.
Elizabeth Weir, Atlantis' Community Relations Manager, was sure of it. One of the few people with whom Rodney had discussed the matter, she had encouraged him to be honest with John. "He's an open-minded guy, Rodney. You'd be surprised."
In case she was right, he convinced Radek Zelenka (who owned the mall's Radio Shack) to join Teyla's gym with him, and got into better shape.
It never hurt to be prepared.
06. Toys - PG, No Spoilers
"Look, Rodney, I’m sure it’s interesting, but right now I just don’t care." Sheppard was tired. He was bruised, broken, and lying in the infirmary, which always put him in a bad mood. But here Rodney was, sitting obliviously next to his bed, rambling on about the science department’s latest discovery. Another day, Sheppard might’ve feigned interest, but now he was too tired and sore to be anything but annoyed.
"Interesting? It’s one of the most important discoveries we’ve made since coming here! I thought you’d be pestering me about new security equipment by now. We know how the Ancients interfaced the gene with their technology. And now that we know, we can do it, too. Carson was over the moon about how much this was going to help his research. I’m surprised you’re not excited. It’s going to be incredibly useful, not to mention really, really cool."
He probably would’ve been excited had he been paying attention when Rodney said it the first time, Sheppard thought. He might be excited now if he weren’t so damn tired. But he was tired, and all he wanted to do was kick Rodney out so he could be grumpy and broody and tired in private. And he didn’t mind saying so. "Look, Rodney, it is amazing, but I’m kinda beat right now, so if you don’t mind - "
"Yes, sorry, of course you’re worn out. I didn’t mean to stay this long; that whole conversation was a preface to me giving you this."
Funny, John thought conversations involved two people and giving - wait, giving him what? Rodney was reaching down beside his chair and picking up something silvery, about the size of a paperback novel. Was that…
"A toy puddlejumper?"
Rodney somehow managed to huff and look smug at the same time. "Not just a toy puddlejumper. Watch." He did, as Rodney set the mini-jumper back on the floor, staring at it. Sheppard gasped as it lifted and floated towards the bed, settling on his lap. When he looked back up at Rodney both men were grinning. This was so cool.
"It works up to about 5 meters, and I didn’t put in any special features, so it’s a little like a remote-control car, except that it’s so much better than that. Carson and I tested it out for safety yesterday; it’s harmless, guaranteed not to fry your brain or anything like that."
Sheppard raised an eyebrow, Rodney would consider the brain-frying possibilities first, but his grin didn’t falter, because he had a mini-jumper, and even if Rodney hadn’t put in anything cool - hold on…
"You made this?"
"Of course; I had to see if we could utilize the technology on our own, and I figured you’re mentally about eight years old anyway, you could probably use another toy."
Sheppard wanted to get him back for that age comment, but at the moment he was too pleased with his toy to bother. "Thanks, Rodney."
Rodney flushed, like he always did when people thanked him. "You’re welcome. Well, it’s late, I should…" He gestured towards the door.
"Yeah, I think I’m gonna get some rest." And he was. His bad mood had been completely short-circuited by Rodney’s present and now all he wanted to do was sleep.
"Well, then. Goodnight, Sheppard."
"Night, Rodney. And thanks, really." Rodney paused and gave his friend a half-smile before leaving. John lay there for a moment before thinking the lights down. He looked at his mini-jumper and guided it over to rest on the table beside him before closing his eyes and slipping off to sleep.
07. Incongruous - PG, general spoilers for S2
"Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?" John asked, settling in easily while Rodney pulled at his wet, stiff jeans, trying desperately to get comfortable. The rain was obviously the universe’s joke on them, but this car proved that the SGC had a lousy sense of humor as well. The only way they could reasonably fit their combined mass into such a tiny space, would be if the car was accelerating infinitely fast. And judging by its pitiful size, Rodney figured this North American wonder probably topped out at seventy-five.
Shrugging his shoulders, Rodney wiped the window with his sleeve. It didn’t matter where they went. They were needed back in Atlantis, but pre-flight checks had found a crack in the main power-coupling onboard the Daedalus. What was supposed to have been a quick briefing to the SGC on the Wraith threat was turning into bureaucratic nightmare as meetings were planned in the wake of the delayed launch.
During the fifth hour of the Near-Earth Defense Budget Allocation Meeting, Sheppard picked up his things and walked out, stopping only long enough to ask Rodney if he wanted to come along. Rodney had blinked and looked around at the room full of delegates, but General Landry hadn’t stopped them from leaving.
"I’ve never been to Niagara Falls," Rodney said, figuring at most, he was in for a few hours of aimless driving around. He was shocked when Sheppard nodded and put the car in drive. "Wait. You’re not seriously going to drive there, are you?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Because of a million reasons--we have to go back to Atlantis--"
"In two weeks."
"Yes. But the meetings--"
"Do you think they’ll be more productive than driving around the countryside?"
"Well...no, but--"
"Exactly."
***
Five hours later, Rodney figured the only reason Sheppard pulled off the I-25 into a gas stop was because they were driving on fumes.
"Are you going for some kind of driving marathon?" Rodney asked, cracking his back as he uncurled his legs and stood up.
"Sorry." Sheppard said, getting out as well. "I had to get away. Listening to all that bullshit and arguing about who was going to pay for what instead of figuring out how to stop the Wraith from coming here, made me want to scream. It was like the walls were closing in on me. I have no idea how Elizabeth puts up with that stuff on a regular basis, or how you managed to just sit there, either."
"It helps to be a misanthrope some days."
A snort came from Sheppard as he leaned down and started pumping some gas. "You don’t really hate everyone."
"No, you’re right. Only the stupid people. Of which we have an abundance of."
Sheppard finally cracked a smile and Rodney grinned back despite the rain that was still drizzling down, the grumbling in his stomach and the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere. A sudden thought occurred to him and he trotted off to the store, returning a minute later. "Here’s a map. My treat."
"I don’t need this. We’ll go north until we hit Canada, then hang a right. How hard can it be?"
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Well, at this rate, we’re going to end up in Saskatoon. And believe me; if you’re looking for a reminder of something worth fighting for, it’s best if we avoided all the Prairie provinces in general. And Nebraska too, just to be safe."
John laughed. "Philanthropy from a misanthrope?"
"The irony is killing me, believe me."
08. Please Don't Be Disappointed - G, Spoilers for 'Duet', Carson/Laura
Carson may not have the most experience with relationships, but he's still pretty sure that his new girlfriend's birthday requires a gift, and a nice one at that. But this relationship is still new to him, and he's not quite sure what Laura would want. And even if he did know, he happens to be in a galaxy far from home, and he isn't sure where he's supposed to find a retail shop in the Pegasus galaxy.
So, he goes to his normal source of advice when he has a problem. He goes to Teyla.
"I haven't had much interaction with Lt. Cadman," she says after he’s talked to her. "What kind of person is she?"
"Well," he replies, "I know that she has a dog back home. And she likes to run. And she's extremely pretty, and nice to people, with the possible exception of McKay."
Teyla raises an eyebrow at him. "Is that all?"
"Aye, I know it’s not much. That's my problem."
"Well, Cadman likes you, and you like her," says Teyla, in that reassuring tone of voice that always manages to make Carson feel better. "I'm sure whatever you get her, she'll love it."
***
And so, later, having not had any better ideas, Carson decides to go for the traditional option that always seemed to make best female friend in medical school happy - chocolate and flowers. Generally a tactic reserved for Valentine’s Day, but also well received for a variety of other occasions. He’s already got a promise from Teyla to set him up with some of the nicer flowers found on the mainland, and now he just has to work on the chocolate.
"Rodney, I need your help with something."
"What? I'm sort of busy now, Carson."
"It's Laura's birthday Tuesday," says Carson.
"Well, that's wonderful. I'll be sure to get something nice for her," says Rodney, his voice full of sarcasm. "How about a hand grenade with the pin taken out? She likes explosives, right?"
"Don't be vicious, Rodney. I was wondering if you had any candy left over from the stash you had sent on the Daedelus. Preferably chocolate."
"I have a question - how come whenever anybody thinks of chocolate, they come to me?" asks Rodney. "I mean, do I smell like it or something, or is this maybe a really unflattering assumption based on the fact that maybe I’m not as, shall we say, anemic as - "
"Rodney," interrupts and exasperated Carson, "Yes or no - do you have chocolate?"
"Well, yes, but there’s no way in hell I’m giving it to Cadman."
"Look, I’ll give you whatever you want, just give me the damn candy," says Carson.
"No way," says Rodney, seeming to take no small amount of glee in Carson’s predicament. Carson sighs.
"You do realize," he says, in the most serious and threatening tone he can manage, "that as the Chief Medical Officer of this expedition, I have ample material with which to blackmail you into doing as I please."
"You’ve got to be kidding," say Rodney, but Carson doesn’t change his expression. "That’s a huge violation of your medial ethics!"
Carson continues to stare at Rodney. He’s never been good at intimidating people, but this is important, so he gives it his best shot.
"Fine," says Rodney after a minute, although he doesn’t stop complaining under his breath as Carson follows him back to his room.
***
He stands in front of Laura’s room with flowers, chocolate and what is probably an overly sappy card in his hand. He breathes in deep, knocks on her door and hopes for the best.
09. Shells - No spoilers
John Sheppard knew he was just another body, another bundle of bones strung up in meat and skin, lit up by the electrical force of life. He knew that his green-eyed, black-haired, lean-bodied self was no more or less valuable than anyone else.
He knew when he viewed the body bags, lined up neatly in Atlantis’ coldest room - a makeshift morgue, that everyone was the same when you really got down to essentials. Some people somewhere loved them as much as anyone anywhere loved John and probably a lot more. They would be missed and mourned.
He wasn’t special, not in ways that mattered.
John made himself unzip every bag. The bodies inside were cold, stripped of their personalities and feelings. The dead didn’t care that he was here. He told them goodbye anyway and that he was sorry. That was the least he could do.
People relied on him. People’s lives were at stake - other people’s lives - people whose names he didn’t even know. He tried to learn them all, but that was near to impossible in a place this size. It wasn’t just his buddies and his fellow soldiers whose lives were on the line - it was a whole city full of people, people who were made of flesh and bones and who had whole, full lives behind them… and hopefully, with any luck, ahead of them. If they ended up here, it was because John had failed to protect them.
John couldn’t forget that - wouldn't let himself forget that - especially when he was in the presence of those bags. Black and formal, they sat like a silent audience, zipped close around the obvious lumps inside. There was no pretending those bags were empty or full of straw.
If he stared hard enough, they moved as if whatever was inside was taking a breath.
"There are always going to be those that can’t be saved," Elizabeth had told him once, when she saw him coming out of the morgue. John knew she was right, but wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. Admitting it would be a failure and in his position, failure was not an option. He only gave up on saving a man or a woman when he saw them lying here, the gray zipper framing their face, lips blue or with only the faintest touch of pink.
That’s when he let them go. That’s when he let them slip from his grasp, like silt or sand grasped from the bottom of the ocean when a big wave drove him all the way under and he forgot where the sky was.
He let them go so that he could come up again for air.
***
When the bodies were finally moved from Atlantis, they traveled for weeks on board the Daedalus, and ended up in a lab at the SGC, where Sam Carter oversaw all the official autopsies. She was somewhat surprised to see that each soldier, each scientist, each staff member who was revealed when the body bags were stripped away had a small shell enfolded in their left hand.
The shells had a strange, alien shape, but were of varied and beautiful colors, some with long spines that looked like the spires of Atlantis itself. Tiny grains of sand spilled out when she set them aside and Sam was left to wonder about the marvelous creatures that had lived inside these shells, and she was grateful that the beautiful husk, like the memory of a person, was still there to be enjoyed.
10. Some Freely - Teen, tag to Conversion
It was dark.
Wherever he was, it was dark. And darkness was... good. Darkness was safe. When it was dark, no one could see you.
He couldn't quite remember why this was so important, not yet; he only knew that it was.
There were things with him in the darkness, though. Soft voices not far from him, mingling with a steady beep from his right. Coarse fabric underneath his right hand, and a warm, heavy weight pressing down his left. Smell, antiseptic and something familiar.
Belatedly, it occurred to him the only reason it was dark was that his eyes were closed.
And then it all came back.
The retrovirus, turning him into something different. How, for a short while, he'd been next to invincible - invulnerable, his mind sing-songed. He'd been climbing walls, seeing the delicate, silvery lines that were a man's life force. He'd been able to run faster, jump higher, take anything he wanted.
He'd been more.
No wonder the Wraith thought themselves superior, if this was what they were like. Only he suspected the whole experience had been more of a Wraith kind of 'back to the roots'. There'd been something wild inside him, and the stunner blasts hadn't so much as tickled when they'd hit. Not even a Wraith could have taken him, of that he was sure. He had become more.
Except he'd been losing so much in the process. His appearance first, then his thoughts as they became jumbled; his mind, his emotions, his humanity. Himself.
He shuddered as he remembered. Not a care in the world but hunger. No conscience, no fear, no love, no memories, no compassion, no mercy, nothing. Nothing. Just hunger. If that was the price to have the strength of a Wraith, then it had been too high.
He had refused to pay it, though. Had been kept on the right side of sanity long enough to help them save him. And it had worked, that much he knew; even if his body still felt strange, in his mind, he was himself.
John opened his eyes, then. Left the dark place behind for the familiarity of the infirmary. Teyla was talking quietly to Ronon; he could see them both through a gap in his privacy curtain. The lights had been dimmed, probably out of consideration for his alien eyes, even though his vision was almost back to normal. He looked at Rodney, who had fallen asleep, his face resting on John's blue-scaled hand, mouth slightly open: childlike, trusting, and thankfully not drooling yet. Something hard and painful clenched inside his chest, and he swallowed although his throat was dry.
No love.
Some things weren't worth their price, he knew that now. Others, thankfully, you got for free.
11. Death is Your Gift - pg-13, spoilers for 305, title from a Buffy episode
"I don’t get you," Rodney said as he barged into John’s quarters.
John closed the book he hadn’t been reading and sat up. "What’s to get?"
Rodney snorted. "Everything. But this time I’m talking about the mission report." He waved away whatever look he saw on John’s face. "Yes, yes, I know it was classified, but that’s not the point here. The point is even though it was classified, I read the report."
"So you read the report, and don’t think we won’t be talking about this at a future time, McKay," John said. "And it was so interesting that you felt the need to rush right on down to my quarters at" - he checked his watch - "three in the morning?"
"Yes!" Rodney said.
John rolled his eyes and picked up his book. "You know the way out."
Rodney ignored him and sat down in his desk chair. "I don’t get you," he said again, sounding subdued. "Is that how you’ve planned your future? Dying to save us all, whether we want you to or not?"
"I don’t have a death wish," John said. He was beginning to get pissed and he really wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation. Not ever, but especially not in the middle of the night when he’d been caught off-guard.
"Of course you don’t have a death wish!" Rodney snapped, looking, if possible, even more annoyed. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your default response to every single problem we have is to sacrifice yourself for the greater good."
"That’s my job, Rodney!" Lowering his voice down to a calmer tone, John added, "That’s what I’m supposed to do. It’s the one thing I can do - buy you all a little more time."
"A little more time for what? So I can save the day? I can be the hero? Do you really think I want the path to my Nobel flooded with your blood?" Rodney was furious - more furious than John had ever seen him. "Do you really think that’s all you can do for us? Do you really think that’s what I want you to do for us? Because if you do, you’d better get down to the infirmary so that Carson can find something large and heavy and hit you with it."
"Rodney -" John started. He really didn’t want to be doing this right now. The memory loop had been running constantly in his head all night: the speed of the attack, Elizabeth’s confusion, Rodney’s terror and anger, the ripping loss of watching them run through the gate coupled with incredible relief that they were all safe, he’d done it. Then, nothing but white. "Sometimes, there needs to be -"
"God, just shut up." Rodney slumped down into the chair, sounding exhausted. "Don’t even try to give me that ‘needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few’ crap. You want to give the gift of life? Fine. How about your own life? Start seeing yourself as more than cannon-fodder."
John couldn’t think of a response. He absently traced the designs on his bedspread and tried to look anywhere that wasn’t Rodney’s face.
"You don’t have anything to say, huh? I’m not surprised." Rodney got up and walked to the door, waving his hand over the control. "Maybe someday I’ll get lucky and you’ll surprise me after all."
John waited until the sounds of Rodney’s footsteps had faded, then threw his book across the room. Hours later, he tried to fall asleep, but the loop kept on playing and playing, until finally, there was nothing but white.
12. Wax On, Wax Off - PG-13, Spoilers for Sateda
Carson pulled his instrument tray closer. "You know, Rodney, I shouldn’t be seeing the arse of anyone I’m not dating nearly this often."
Rodney tried to crane his head around to glare at Carson. "Very funny. You should take that act on the road."
"Beats taking one in the ass. Again," John said from where he was leaning against Rodney’s bed, his back to Rodney.
"If he’d only taken one, you probably could have handled this in the field. It’s the twenty plus of them that’s causing the problem, not to mention the number of glochidia that have to be in there." Carson said as he finished cutting away Rodney’s pants and shorts.
"Number of what?!" Rodney asked, alarmed that there was something other than pieces of cactus in his ass.
"Glochidia. The smaller spines. Don’t worry, we have methods for getting those out too. Now, hold still. This is going to sting."
Rodney gripped the pillow, white-knuckled.
John flinched a little as Carson began plucking out the larger spines with a tweezers. Turning back around he said casually, "You know, Rodney, for someone who’s sick of being the butt of everyone’s jokes, you make it awfully easy for us."
"Very fun-ny, Col-nel," Rodney said, his speech interrupted as he caught his breath each time Carson plucked.
John hooked a stool with his foot and sat so that he was eye-level with Rodney. "So explain this to me… How the hell did you come to sit on a cactus?"
"I fell. I slipped on a rock under the sand and fell - ow! - backwards."
"That’s the last of the large ones. Now for the glochidia. Be right back." Carson patted Rodney’s back as he left to retrieve more supplies.
"Well, at least now when someone asks you what crawled up your ass and died, you’ll have an answer for them." John continued to torment.
"Yes, you," Rodney retorted, thinking that there was something wrong about that answer, but dismissing it.
"I’m flattered, but I’m seeing someone," John tossed back. "Not to mention… I think your butt’s going to be out of commission for a while after this one."
Carson came back after a minute with a jar that looked distinctly non-medical.
Rodney squinted, "What is that?"
"Depilitory wax. We spread it over the little spines, wait for it to cool and when we rip it off, the spines come with." Carson began spreading the wax before Rodney could think too hard about it.
John, on the other hand, was able to figure it out quite a bit faster. "Oh my god! You’re getting your ass waxed!"
"Thank you, Colonel, you’re making this so much more bearable," Rodney grumbled.
Finishing, Carson set the jar down. "That should do it. It’ll need a few minutes to set and grab the spines. How’s the pain?"
Rodney sighed. "Manageable, I suppose."
"When you’re done, I’ll give you some codeine." He patted Rodney’s leg. "Colonel, do you have a minute?"
John stood up, "Sure." He followed Carson into his office.
They both took a seat. "You weren’t here when Rodney took that arrow, but he was bloody impossible to treat. It seems to have made a difference having you here today. I gave him a bit of lidocane when we started, but I was really ready for a battle with him. For as much as you complain about him, you do seem to handle him quite well."
John shrugged off the compliment. " Ability to cope with pain-in-the-ass scientists… I guess it’s a gift. Some days it’s one I’d like to return."
13. Love, War, and Reunions - PG-13, No Spoilers
The Lorne family reunion--technically, the McInerney family reunion--was held at the Keyhole Country Club, Pine Haven, Wyoming.
Picking up his beer and scanning crowds of people in the main dining room, Nick wasn't sure why he'd come. He didn't really have anything in common with the rest of his family--most of them farmers, ranchers, and engineers--but his mom wanted all of her boys to come some year, so this time, Nick had. He hoped it made up for some of the many times he'd missed Easter, the Fourth of July, or Thanksgiving.
Anyway, he was still recuperating from getting his leg slashed up in the last Wraith firefight. He really didn't like limping around the halls of Atlantis, seeing the concerned looks on everyone's faces, or the way Dr. Weir looked at him, her eyes so full of guilt.
"Excuse me?"
Nick glanced away toward the speaker. She was about 16, with wood-brown hair pulled back with barrettes and wearing cotton sundress. He wondered if she'd sewed it herself.
"Hello," he said, nodding at her. "I'm Nick. Nick Lorne. And you're--"
"Sarah McInerney." Of course. "Uhm, listen," She stared down at the floor a second, then back at Nick. "They told me you were in the military, and that you'd been injured."
"That's right." Nothing classified about that.
"Well, the bishop talked to us all at youth group last Wednesday, about, you know, making stuff for people overseas--"
Oh, for the love of-- "I'm fine, really--" He held up his hand to stop her, but she barreled on through, scientist-fast.
"And I was wondering if you could tell me how to find my aunt, so I could send her something."
That took Nick aback. "I'm sorry. You're looking for your aunt?"
"Well, she's kinda my aunt," the girl said solemnly. "She's a friend of my mom from college, and she's not exactly military, more a civilian contractor? I think." Her mouth pursed. "We lost track of her a couple of years ago. She used to work for the U.N." She twisted the fabric of her dress between her fingers.
Wow. Nick had no idea where to start. "What's her name?"
"Elizabeth Weir," she said, and then corrected herself: "Dr. Elizabeth Weir."
***
Lorne stood just outside Elizabeth's closed office door, waving the package in his hand, a big grin on his face. He didn't limp at all anymore, and it was great to be back. Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and motioned him in.
"I thought Sergeant Campbell normally delivered the mail?" she asked as Lorne handed her the bundle.
"He does ma'am, but as I was already on the Daedalus when she landed, I figured I'd take advantage of the situation." He slid into the chair across from her. "Just call me Santa Claus."
"Well, thank you, Major Claus. It's good to have you back." She smiled at him, the warmth in her eyes more than her tone telling him how welcome he was.
She picked up the brown paper wrapped package and looked at the label: written in red, crosses on the front, and a return address in Gillette, Wyoming. "It's from my niece Sarah," she said, sounding a bit overwhelmed. "She's never sent me anything before." She glanced at Lorne. "You think it's cookies, don't you?"
"I detected the faint odor of chocolate chips about it."
"If you're right, I promise to share." She tore the paper opening the box, and the delight on her face was better than Christmas.
14. Device - G, spoilers for Hide and Seek
Tolus ran his hands through his hair again. "What are you doing? The control chair is short of drones, three ships need repairs, and the shield--"
"Be quiet. I'm being brilliant."
"We don't have time for you to be brilliant, Jolden."
"I think you'll find that we do." Jolden made a last-minute adjustment to the device in front of him, which glowed a satisfied green. "Perfect. Now all I need is--"
Commander Seyna rushed in the lab door. "What is it that's so urgent, Jolden? We're about to leave. I don't have time--"
"I know, I know. I have something for you." Jolden held out the device.
"What is it?"
"Here." Jolden pressed it to the front of Seyna's uniform and activated it. "Now--" He shoved both hands at Seyna. Seyna flinched back, but Jolden's hands never touched him. Jolden and Seyna stared at the ripple of energy that was visible between then.
"A personal shield." Seyna exchanged a smile of pure delight with Jolden.
"It's a prototype. Experimental. I--I need you to report back to me about its effectiveness so I can build more."
"I promise." Seyna took a step back. Tolus looked back to his work as the commander said, "Thank you, Jolden."
***
"It worked!" Commander Seyna burst in the room. "Jolden!" His uniform tunic was singed on one side, and his face and hair were filthy, but he was beaming. "Look, it worked!"
He looked at the empty desk, then over at Tolus. His smile faded.
"Jolden was repairing a malfunctioning weapons console. There was an explosion." Tolus forced himself to keep his eyes on Seyna's. "He was killed instantly."
Seyna stared at him a moment longer. Then he took a few awkward steps to Jolden's desk. He put the shield down gently.
"I am sorry," Tolus said.
"It worked," Seyna said quietly.
VOTING IS NOW CLOSED, AND RESULTS WILL BE POSTED SOON. THANKS EVERYONE.