FIC: O Tannenbaum
My entry for the au_ficathon!
TITLE: O Tannenbaum
AUTHOR: TaleWeaver
DISCLAIMER: So not mine.
RATING / CONTENT: PG. Swearing, use of foreign language and vague sexual implications.
SPOILERS: Takes place shortly before ‘Dot Com’ - vague allusions to events of that story.
SUMMARY: A conversation between day players during the campus Christmas tree decoration.
REQUEST: (written for caroly_214) I'd like a non-romance fic involving some of the minor characters, and maybe their interaction with each other and the major characters, maybe talking about John and Elizabeth's relationship, either before or after they get together
AUTHOR’S NOTES: I haven’t watched SG-1 on a regular basis for several seasons now (mostly due to the weird broadcast schedule here) so if I’m out of date on character development, I apologize. Also: I’m Australian, so is my spelling. And I make no apologies for giving some characters my taste in TV.
It was that time of the year again. Students went around exchanging (and testing) recipes for alcoholic eggnog, people burst into song at random intervals, and bunches of paper mistletoe appeared like magic outside Professor John Sheppard’s office door… and classroom door… and the math department men’s room door.
It was the build up to Christmas at Langford University.
And the official start to the season was the faculty Christmas tree decoration.
In the climax of a long-running battle with Kinsey, Jack O’Neill had finally managed to get the board members to agree to an outside Christmas tree this year. With his natural disregard for cold, it didn’t really occur to him that with the wrong weather forecast this was likely to be a truly miserable experience for half the staff - especially his best friend, who’d spent most of his childhood in the Middle East. Fortunately for those people, (too bad that also meant Kinsey) the weather forecast was cool and clear for the auspicious evening.
At seven o’clock, the crowd was swelling around the buffet table in the quad, just across from the giant ring sculpture. (After several years, it was finally starting to be known as ‘the one ring’, after a recent Tolkien festival in the campus movie theatre.) No one wanted to miss this.
The tree-trimming was considered one of the major social events for the school year - at last count, previous trimming parties had led to two divorces, three proposals, a dozen break-ups, a baker’s dozen of match-ups, and one case of early onset labour (the baby had been named Holly in tribute).
Needless to say, much surreptitious attention was being focussed on the hot potential couples among the staff.
Peter Grodin had already been approached by three people wanting intel on Elizabeth Weir and John Sheppard. Fiercely loyal to the woman who had become his friend, as well as his boss, he’d refused to drop so much as a hint.
Not to mention, if anyone was going to scoop the $2000 pool, it was going to be him.
“Prejeme Vam Vesele Vanoce a stastny Novy Rok !“
Peter turned in delighted pleasure to see another member of his Whedon TV Wednesday group. “And to you, Radek.” He took a closer look at the Czech physicist’s weary face, and frowned. “A flare-up on the Newton Hall front?”
Radek Zelenka, widely acknowledged to have one of the most thankless jobs in the entire history of the university, muttered under his breath.
Peter understood he was better off not asking what that translated to.
“Now that the grad students will be off for Christmas break - and those two aren’t! Why don’t they have families to go to? With Rodney, it’s understandable, but Samantha has no excuse except that she can’t bear to give him the time alone in the clean lab!”
Peter just smiled sympathetically, and handed him a cup of the most lethal eggnog on campus.
“Merry Christmas, Dr Zelenka! Season’s greetings, Peter!”
Both men grinned as they turned. Nyan could cheer up anyone - except Kinsey. Further proof that the man was a cold-blooded alien in disguise.
Niles Alyan (who had been nicknamed ‘Nyan’ for reasons no one could remember, but kept the name for reasons that were obvious, especially when ‘Frasier’ and ‘The Nanny’ were in reruns) had been a student at the sole university of a Middle Eastern country so obscure even most of the Political Science department hadn’t heard of it - until Dr Jackson had taken his summer dig there two years ago. Always eager to improve his understanding of the locals, he’d hired Nyan and a couple of fellow students as general dogsbodies around the site. By the end of the dig, he’d been so impressed with Nyan that he’d conspired with Teal’c Gifa to get him a scholarship to Langford on the exchange program.
“Nyan, you haven’t been at Daniel’s coffee again, have you?” Peter asked in concern.
Nyan’s face fell and he shook his head. “Dr Jackson said I wasn’t allowed near it anymore.” His face lit up again. “But he let me try some of the chocolate-covered coffee beans he received from Mr O’Neill as a bribe!”
“Bribe for what?” Radek asked curiously.
Nyan frowned in remembrance. “Something about Vipers, superglue and a parrot.”
Peter and Radek looked at each other, and shrugged.
Peter grabbed another cup of eggnog as he saw another member of their Wednesday night group approaching.
“Sorry I’m late. Has anyone been electrocuted trying out the lights yet?”
“Not so far. But then, neither Daniel Jackson or Rodney are here yet,” Radek sniggered. He still hadn’t forgiven Rodney for cornering him in the men’s room for his last plea for time in the clean environment lab.
Walter Davis grinned back. Known informally by most of the staff as ‘Techie’ or ‘the computer guy’, Davis was the member of the IT department who dealt exclusively with the faculty computers (another job considered to be thankless). He’d gotten to know Radek as the only sane person in the physics department, during a period when he’d been called out by either McKay or Carter on a daily basis. Having risen to the rank of Sargent in the Air Force before being wounded during the Second Gulf War, he’d remarked once that it had been good training for working in Newton Hall when Rodney and Sam were both hitting hot spots on their research.
“So, Peter - haven’t seen you outside Wednesday nights for a while. Sheppard finally get rid of the bimbo parade?”
Peter gloomily shook his head. After so long hiding out in Elizabeth’s office, John had become Peter’s friend as well as Elizabeth’s - and Peter knew, even better than she, just how annoying John found the whole thing.
“Just a warning, then - I came across a group of them on the way to his office last week, and they were talking about some sort of website.”
Peter groaned. “That’s all we need,” he snapped out, his semi-British accent (a legacy of the Langford-Cambridge student exchange) making the words sound even harsher. “Warn me if Sheppard gets a clue. He’ll immediately tell Elizabeth. I’ll need to take a very long lunch.”
“Speaking of which, do you think those two will ever wake up and smell the coffee?” Davis asked thoughtfully.
“No coffee! Only chocolate-covered coffee beans!” Nyan piped up.
Davis simply looked at Nyan and frowned, before looking across the quad. The other men followed his gaze to the objects of their discussion.
“They’ve been dating for four years,” explained Peter. “They just haven’t gotten to the romantic parts.”
“Well, sharing food is seen as a sign of affection in my country,” Nyan added.
“They’re not sharing the cheesecake, Nyan, they’re playing rock, paper, scissors for it,” retorted Davis. “Why haven’t they gotten to the romantic part yet?”
Peter shrugged. He’d given up on that question long ago. He just wished they’d hurry up and shag. They’d both be happier that way.
Zelenka asked, “Perhaps they both wish to be very thorough about the foreplay?”
Davis spit-choked on his mouthful of eggnog, leading Nyan to thump him on the back enthusiastically.
* * * *
Across the quad, Elizabeth Weir looked up to see Peter and Radek standing with Techie while he choked, and another young man - from the archaeology department? - thumped him on the back. She waved her fork, and Peter and Radek waved back.
She sensed John’s hand stealing up on her prize, and waved the fork again, this time threateningly.
John wheedled, “Best two out of three?”
Elizabeth simply smirked and dug in to the last serving of cheesecake.
FINI
TITLE: O Tannenbaum
AUTHOR: TaleWeaver
DISCLAIMER: So not mine.
RATING / CONTENT: PG. Swearing, use of foreign language and vague sexual implications.
SPOILERS: Takes place shortly before ‘Dot Com’ - vague allusions to events of that story.
SUMMARY: A conversation between day players during the campus Christmas tree decoration.
REQUEST: (written for caroly_214) I'd like a non-romance fic involving some of the minor characters, and maybe their interaction with each other and the major characters, maybe talking about John and Elizabeth's relationship, either before or after they get together
AUTHOR’S NOTES: I haven’t watched SG-1 on a regular basis for several seasons now (mostly due to the weird broadcast schedule here) so if I’m out of date on character development, I apologize. Also: I’m Australian, so is my spelling. And I make no apologies for giving some characters my taste in TV.
It was that time of the year again. Students went around exchanging (and testing) recipes for alcoholic eggnog, people burst into song at random intervals, and bunches of paper mistletoe appeared like magic outside Professor John Sheppard’s office door… and classroom door… and the math department men’s room door.
It was the build up to Christmas at Langford University.
And the official start to the season was the faculty Christmas tree decoration.
In the climax of a long-running battle with Kinsey, Jack O’Neill had finally managed to get the board members to agree to an outside Christmas tree this year. With his natural disregard for cold, it didn’t really occur to him that with the wrong weather forecast this was likely to be a truly miserable experience for half the staff - especially his best friend, who’d spent most of his childhood in the Middle East. Fortunately for those people, (too bad that also meant Kinsey) the weather forecast was cool and clear for the auspicious evening.
At seven o’clock, the crowd was swelling around the buffet table in the quad, just across from the giant ring sculpture. (After several years, it was finally starting to be known as ‘the one ring’, after a recent Tolkien festival in the campus movie theatre.) No one wanted to miss this.
The tree-trimming was considered one of the major social events for the school year - at last count, previous trimming parties had led to two divorces, three proposals, a dozen break-ups, a baker’s dozen of match-ups, and one case of early onset labour (the baby had been named Holly in tribute).
Needless to say, much surreptitious attention was being focussed on the hot potential couples among the staff.
Peter Grodin had already been approached by three people wanting intel on Elizabeth Weir and John Sheppard. Fiercely loyal to the woman who had become his friend, as well as his boss, he’d refused to drop so much as a hint.
Not to mention, if anyone was going to scoop the $2000 pool, it was going to be him.
“Prejeme Vam Vesele Vanoce a stastny Novy Rok !“
Peter turned in delighted pleasure to see another member of his Whedon TV Wednesday group. “And to you, Radek.” He took a closer look at the Czech physicist’s weary face, and frowned. “A flare-up on the Newton Hall front?”
Radek Zelenka, widely acknowledged to have one of the most thankless jobs in the entire history of the university, muttered under his breath.
Peter understood he was better off not asking what that translated to.
“Now that the grad students will be off for Christmas break - and those two aren’t! Why don’t they have families to go to? With Rodney, it’s understandable, but Samantha has no excuse except that she can’t bear to give him the time alone in the clean lab!”
Peter just smiled sympathetically, and handed him a cup of the most lethal eggnog on campus.
“Merry Christmas, Dr Zelenka! Season’s greetings, Peter!”
Both men grinned as they turned. Nyan could cheer up anyone - except Kinsey. Further proof that the man was a cold-blooded alien in disguise.
Niles Alyan (who had been nicknamed ‘Nyan’ for reasons no one could remember, but kept the name for reasons that were obvious, especially when ‘Frasier’ and ‘The Nanny’ were in reruns) had been a student at the sole university of a Middle Eastern country so obscure even most of the Political Science department hadn’t heard of it - until Dr Jackson had taken his summer dig there two years ago. Always eager to improve his understanding of the locals, he’d hired Nyan and a couple of fellow students as general dogsbodies around the site. By the end of the dig, he’d been so impressed with Nyan that he’d conspired with Teal’c Gifa to get him a scholarship to Langford on the exchange program.
“Nyan, you haven’t been at Daniel’s coffee again, have you?” Peter asked in concern.
Nyan’s face fell and he shook his head. “Dr Jackson said I wasn’t allowed near it anymore.” His face lit up again. “But he let me try some of the chocolate-covered coffee beans he received from Mr O’Neill as a bribe!”
“Bribe for what?” Radek asked curiously.
Nyan frowned in remembrance. “Something about Vipers, superglue and a parrot.”
Peter and Radek looked at each other, and shrugged.
Peter grabbed another cup of eggnog as he saw another member of their Wednesday night group approaching.
“Sorry I’m late. Has anyone been electrocuted trying out the lights yet?”
“Not so far. But then, neither Daniel Jackson or Rodney are here yet,” Radek sniggered. He still hadn’t forgiven Rodney for cornering him in the men’s room for his last plea for time in the clean environment lab.
Walter Davis grinned back. Known informally by most of the staff as ‘Techie’ or ‘the computer guy’, Davis was the member of the IT department who dealt exclusively with the faculty computers (another job considered to be thankless). He’d gotten to know Radek as the only sane person in the physics department, during a period when he’d been called out by either McKay or Carter on a daily basis. Having risen to the rank of Sargent in the Air Force before being wounded during the Second Gulf War, he’d remarked once that it had been good training for working in Newton Hall when Rodney and Sam were both hitting hot spots on their research.
“So, Peter - haven’t seen you outside Wednesday nights for a while. Sheppard finally get rid of the bimbo parade?”
Peter gloomily shook his head. After so long hiding out in Elizabeth’s office, John had become Peter’s friend as well as Elizabeth’s - and Peter knew, even better than she, just how annoying John found the whole thing.
“Just a warning, then - I came across a group of them on the way to his office last week, and they were talking about some sort of website.”
Peter groaned. “That’s all we need,” he snapped out, his semi-British accent (a legacy of the Langford-Cambridge student exchange) making the words sound even harsher. “Warn me if Sheppard gets a clue. He’ll immediately tell Elizabeth. I’ll need to take a very long lunch.”
“Speaking of which, do you think those two will ever wake up and smell the coffee?” Davis asked thoughtfully.
“No coffee! Only chocolate-covered coffee beans!” Nyan piped up.
Davis simply looked at Nyan and frowned, before looking across the quad. The other men followed his gaze to the objects of their discussion.
“They’ve been dating for four years,” explained Peter. “They just haven’t gotten to the romantic parts.”
“Well, sharing food is seen as a sign of affection in my country,” Nyan added.
“They’re not sharing the cheesecake, Nyan, they’re playing rock, paper, scissors for it,” retorted Davis. “Why haven’t they gotten to the romantic part yet?”
Peter shrugged. He’d given up on that question long ago. He just wished they’d hurry up and shag. They’d both be happier that way.
Zelenka asked, “Perhaps they both wish to be very thorough about the foreplay?”
Davis spit-choked on his mouthful of eggnog, leading Nyan to thump him on the back enthusiastically.
* * * *
Across the quad, Elizabeth Weir looked up to see Peter and Radek standing with Techie while he choked, and another young man - from the archaeology department? - thumped him on the back. She waved her fork, and Peter and Radek waved back.
She sensed John’s hand stealing up on her prize, and waved the fork again, this time threateningly.
John wheedled, “Best two out of three?”
Elizabeth simply smirked and dug in to the last serving of cheesecake.
FINI