Fic+Art for Challenge 002A
Fic:
Title: The Worst Blonde Joke
Author: Written by starrylizard, concept by starrylizard and sakuracorr.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: Gen, kiddie-safe, Crack!fic!
Notes: This fic was written as part of the artword challenge 002A. Kindly betaed by rinkle.
Spoilers: None
Summary: When Rodney encounters a strange fungus on a mission, he inadvertently brings it back to Atlantis with some amusing consequences.
“All right then, let’s get a move on shall we?” The mission briefing out of the way, Colonel Sheppard pushed back his chair, eager to get moving. The rest of his team followed a little more slowly, hefting their off-world gear as they left Weir’s office and wandered out into the bustling Gate room.
McKay walked over to stand behind the Canadian guy dialing the gate, whose name he seemed to always forget, but he thought it might be Chuck or Charlie - it was something like that. Rodney liked to personally oversee the chevrons going into the DHD; you could never be too careful and he’d really hate to end up floating in space because someone pushed the wrong button.
“Hi, Rodney. Marveling at Sergeant Gilchrist’s DHD-dialing excellence again I see.”
Rodney looked up quickly at that voice; the same voice that had been inside his mind for long enough that it grated on his nerves whenever he heard it. He easily located its owner, as she was sitting at one of the nearby computers, checking system subroutines from the looks of it.
“Cadman,” he acknowledged with a nod, a slightly devilish grin suddenly lighting up his face. “So, how do you know a blonde has been using your computer?”
Cadman rolled her eyes in response and gave him a ‘long suffering’ look, before she answered, “I don’t know Rodney, how do you know?”
“There’s white-out on the screen,” he finished.
The blonde jokes, and other teasing banter, had become a sort of patter that filled the awkward silences that otherwise appeared whenever the two of them met. She did wonder, though, how he could consistently come up with a new blonde joke day after day, and she suspected he viewed it as a personal challenge of sorts. Rodney was still chuckling at his latest joke, as he made his way to the rest of the team, and they walked through the now active Stargate.
*************
Rodney slapped his own face, as a flying insect tried to settle there, before vigorously hitting out at another one that had landed on Sheppard’s back.
“McKay!”
“What? I was doing you a favour.”
“Well, stop it.”
“Sorry. Geez, I was just trying to save you from malaria, or dengue fever, or whatever mosquitoes give you in the Pegasus galaxy. Sure you don’t want some repellant?”
“No, Rodney, I don’t. Are you picking anything up yet? I’m starting to wonder if Stackhouse was suffering from jungle fever of his own when he reported that energy signature.”
“Let me check again.” Rodney pulled out the small Atlantean computer device and squinted down at it, still swatting at the insects with his free hand. “Yes, I’m picking it up now. The energy signal is coming from over,” he pointed a little off to their left, “there. It’s pretty weak though.”
“Okay, lead the way then.” Sheppard carefully stepped behind McKay, a sideways smirk and a raised eyebrow daring him to walk in front.
“Ouch. What was that for?” Rodney glared back at Sheppard.
“What? There was a really big bug on your back…just returning the favour.”
“Oh well then …thank you …I guess. I bruise easily though, you know.” Rodney picked up the pace, pulling ahead of the others, as Sheppard exchanged a goofy grin with Ronan.
“It’s coming from in there.” McKay stopped just in front of what looked like a greenhouse; an oddity to say the least, considering they were in the middle of a tropical jungle. Without waiting for the rest of the team, McKay pushed his way ahead, eyes still firmly fixed on the computer readout. He never even noticed the large …what were they? mushrooms?, until suddenly the nearest one let free a large high-pressure puff of white powder right at the back of McKay’s head, then another one did the same to his face... Pretty soon Rodney was covered from head to toe in white powder.
“Gah, bleh, pleh!” Rodney brushed white powder from his clothing with gusto, as he hurriedly backed up. “Great. That’s just great. That’s right, laugh it up everyone!”
“McKay? I think that powder…um well.” Teyla’s face showed her amusement, but she managed to school her expression into a wry grin; Ronan and Sheppard, on the other hand, were far less polite. It took several minutes before they managed to gasp enough air in around their laughter, to say anything; when they did, McKay decided he would have rather that they had just kept their mouths shut.
*************
“Unscheduled gate activation. It’s Colonel Sheppard’s IDC ma’am.”
“Let them through.”
“The shield is down.”
Elizabeth made her way down the stairs, as Colonel Sheppard stepped through the gate. “Colonel Sheppard. You’re not due back for at least another hour, is everyone all right?”
Sheppard pointed over his shoulder, as the rest of his team began emerging from the gate, a cheeky grin suddenly lighting up his face. “Rodney had a little ‘incident’ with some local plant life, and we decided to call it a day.”
As Sheppard was finishing this rather curious explanation, several people in the Gate room began to chuckle, some even began to openly laugh out loud, pointing at the object of their ridicule. One Second Lieutenant on gate-guarding duty, even let out a surprised “Oh my gosh…no way,” before breaking into a girlish fit of giggles. Colonel Sheppard obligingly moved to one side, turning to face the rest of the team and giving Weir a good view of a very embarrassed-looking Rodney. She tried unsuccessfully to school the grin that was trying to form on her mouth. “Rodney? What happened?”
Rodney spun around to take in the amused looks of the people around him, at first giving the look of a trapped animal, desperately searching for a place to hide and then settling for scowling at them, with a, “What? It’s not that funny! Shut up!” All the while, he was trying, unsuccessfully, to cover up his head, or more specifically, his hair, which was now completely bleached blonde.
Elizabeth took pity on the morose-looking Rodney. “How about we adjourn to my office for debriefing…gentlemen, Teyla?” She quirked an eyebrow, and turned to face Sheppard again, still attempting to school her features. McKay moved fast enough to beat all of them into the little office. As he reached his goal, he began vigorously scratching at his short hair, much resembling a flea-ridden dog; his efforts rewarded by a large cloud of fine powder dust that seemed to rise up into the air.
“Rodney is that entirely necessary?”
“It’s itchy, okay,” Rodney started to whine, but before he had time to do much more than scowl at John’s question, a familiar sound filled the air, the haunting and instantly recognizable sound of the city’s biohazard alarms. The doors to the Gate room and Weir’s office slid closed and locked tightly.
McKay and Sheppard had a moment to realize what the sound signified before the door to the office had slid shut, locking Weir, Ronan and Teyla out just before they could enter the room.
“That’s not a good sign.”
Rodney just slapped his hand to his head, giving Sheppard a look that clearly said, ‘Well dah’. “Thank you for that piece of insightful information,” he snapped. “I don’t know how I ever got along without you.”
Outside they could hear Elizabeth and Dr Beckett confer, before Beckett must have tapped on his radio.
This is Beckett. It appears we have a possible biological agent in the Gate room. Biohazard teams suit up and report here ASAP.
*************
McKay sighed heavily, looking across the room to where Sheppard was seated at Weir’s desk. They had been trapped in the room for a little over fifteen minutes, as they waited for the medical teams, and by this point they were heartily bored. The pair had lapsed into a sort of sullen silence, broken only by Rodney’s persistent scratching.
After their previous experiences with the Atlantean biohazard detection systems, they had managed to alter them in such a way as to only seal off the rooms in which the hazard was actually detected. Since then, it had become common place to see a doctor or nurse, completely decked out in a biohazard suit, delivering chicken soup to whoever was locked down in their quarters with the flu that week; at least the rest of the base could usually continue to function as per normal. In this case, it was apparently only Dr Weir’s office and the control room that had been locked down, making the most likely culprit for the scare whatever was currently residing in Rodney’s bleached blonde hair.
“Rodney, would you stop that,” Sheppard started again, but stopped, as he was surprised by the new pitch his voice had apparently taken on while he had been sitting silently.
“Hehehee, you sound like a chipmunk!” quipped Rodney, only to hear his own voice sounding equally silly, which set him to giggling all the harder.
Rodney stood up a little unsteadily; his head felt sort of fuzzy, but he launched into his favourite Kavanagh quote of the week in his now squeaky voice, completing the impersonation by making pretend glasses with his hands. “Do you mean to insinuate that I should tolerate such abominable insubordination from someone whose mentality is barely that of an Eratus bug?”
“That isn’t even funny.” Sheppard giggled too. “He said that?”
“I know, but I can’t stop laughing and yeah, to Zelenka. For our voices to change timbre, there must be a seriously high level of helium or a similar gas in this room and hypoxia will make you insanely happy; believe me I know.”
“I’m a pilot, Rodney, I know about hypoxia.”
Rodney took a moment to giggle some more. “We have to get out of this room and into a larger space.” With that, he pulled out a pocket knife and began to gleefully dig at the door controls, but not before noting, “Hey Sheppard. You know, blonde really suits you.” He sputtered with laughter at the look of bemused horror on the other man’s face.
The biohazard teams arrived just in time to see the door to Weir’s office stutter open and the giggling, blonde-haired duo tumble out into the Gate room, gleefully singing a very realistic-sounding version of the theme to the Smurfs. La laa la la la laa laa lalala laa. They collapsed in a fit of giggles on the floor, before lying still and desperately sucking in fresh air. The occasional giggle still escaped them, as they waved limply at the perplexed-looking medics.
*************
Carson leaned over the microscope, looking carefully at the microscopic organisms contained in the dish. He really just wanted to find something to kill this thing soon, but so far all the usual suspects had had no effect on the organism.
The resident microbiologists and botanists had identified the thing as ‘not a fungus exactly’, but it was the closest description they had for it. It was certainly hard enough to study when it kept regularly spitting out helium-filled spores that would float around the dish slowly releasing the gas, before settling and starting the process again. The only good news so far, was that the organism didn’t appear to be lethal in any way. It was just damn annoying, as the increasingly blonde population of the gate room and even Carson himself could attest to. There was some irony, he thought, in the fact that he’d pointed out, on several occasions, how McKay and Sheppard were giving him white hairs; this however wasn’t what he’d meant.
Stretching, he stood and began pacing around the room. The makeshift lab, which had been set up in an adjacent room, was packed with people. They had soldiers searching Atlantis for anything that might serve as a fungicide and every scientist that could be jammed into a biohazard suit was currently testing these solutions in various combinations on the bleaching fungus. So far, they had had very little luck.
“Dr Beckett, Dr Beckett!” The gloved hand of a scientist flew up and waved around, enabling Carson to identify the excitable speaker as Dr Katie Brown. “I think I’ve got something. Look!”
Carson moved quickly to her side, where she moved over to allow him to peer into the microscope. He made a happy sound, as he noted all the fungi in the dish appeared to be dead. “It kills the spores too,” noted Dr. Brown, “but I don’t think Rodney is going to like it much.”
“Good work, Doctor,” beamed Carson, as he reached to open a radio channel. Elizabeth, we think we’ve found something. I’ll be there shortly. Carson out.
*************
“Lemons? Lemons! You’re all just determined to kill me aren’t you?” McKay’s ranting could be heard from one end of the Control Room to the other. “Surely there’s something else that kills this fungus stuff.”
Dr Beckett had explained the cure to Dr Weir quietly, before the rest of the team had arrived with the industrial strength lemon detergent mixture. They had tried other cleaners on hand, but none of them had been effective. It was the lemon fresh scented one or nothing at all. That had led them to try the lemons in the mess hall, only to find that they also worked to kill the organism. A mixture of lemon juice and detergent had been made into a spray solution and the teams now entering were setting up a decontamination shower for the personnel and were beginning to spray the room.
McKay was irate.
Weir reached up to scratch her own blonde hair, before catching herself and self consciously pulling her hand away. There wasn’t a dark-haired person left in the room; even Ronan’s Dreadlocks had succumbed to the blonding action of the organism and they were all feeling self conscious and irritable. She rounded on Rodney.
“Rodney McKay. Stop right there. You are going into that shower, whether you like it or not. Dr Beckett and his team are ready to treat you and believe me if there was any other way…”
“Noo no no no no! You can’t, I can’t.” He backed up into the waiting arms of Cadman and Sheppard, who gently grabbed his arms to steer him in the right direction. “Come on, McKay. You’ll be fine.”
“We’ll go through together, all right?” Cadman tried, but Rodney just squirmed more, looking pitiful. Elizabeth and Carson sighed, as they gently nudged him toward the shower.
As Rodney sagged in resignation, Cadman grinned reassuringly at him. “Hey Rodney? How do you know a second blonde has been using your computer?”
Rodney looked up at that, a small smile breaking through his pout. “I don’t know Cadman. How do you know?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.
“There’s fresh writing on top of the whiteout.”
*************
A few hours later, a bunch of blonde-haired, lemon-scented, wet and blanket-wrapped personnel sat in the infirmary, Weir was busy adding hair dye orders to the next Daedalus supply run and the Gate Room’s was positively sparkling after it’s unexpected spring clean.
The end!
+ Art:
Artist: sakuracorr
Type: I meant it as a poster, but I guess that could be debated.
Notes: I was more going for Pop Art in the vein of Lichtenstein, but it didn't work out quite that way as I was new to the Photoshop methods I was using, and it turned out to be a bit more time consuming than I thought. Sorry about not meeting the size requirements this time around.
Resources: New Atlantis
Teaser + Link:
Title: The Worst Blonde Joke
Author: Written by starrylizard, concept by starrylizard and sakuracorr.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: Gen, kiddie-safe, Crack!fic!
Notes: This fic was written as part of the artword challenge 002A. Kindly betaed by rinkle.
Spoilers: None
Summary: When Rodney encounters a strange fungus on a mission, he inadvertently brings it back to Atlantis with some amusing consequences.
“All right then, let’s get a move on shall we?” The mission briefing out of the way, Colonel Sheppard pushed back his chair, eager to get moving. The rest of his team followed a little more slowly, hefting their off-world gear as they left Weir’s office and wandered out into the bustling Gate room.
McKay walked over to stand behind the Canadian guy dialing the gate, whose name he seemed to always forget, but he thought it might be Chuck or Charlie - it was something like that. Rodney liked to personally oversee the chevrons going into the DHD; you could never be too careful and he’d really hate to end up floating in space because someone pushed the wrong button.
“Hi, Rodney. Marveling at Sergeant Gilchrist’s DHD-dialing excellence again I see.”
Rodney looked up quickly at that voice; the same voice that had been inside his mind for long enough that it grated on his nerves whenever he heard it. He easily located its owner, as she was sitting at one of the nearby computers, checking system subroutines from the looks of it.
“Cadman,” he acknowledged with a nod, a slightly devilish grin suddenly lighting up his face. “So, how do you know a blonde has been using your computer?”
Cadman rolled her eyes in response and gave him a ‘long suffering’ look, before she answered, “I don’t know Rodney, how do you know?”
“There’s white-out on the screen,” he finished.
The blonde jokes, and other teasing banter, had become a sort of patter that filled the awkward silences that otherwise appeared whenever the two of them met. She did wonder, though, how he could consistently come up with a new blonde joke day after day, and she suspected he viewed it as a personal challenge of sorts. Rodney was still chuckling at his latest joke, as he made his way to the rest of the team, and they walked through the now active Stargate.
*************
Rodney slapped his own face, as a flying insect tried to settle there, before vigorously hitting out at another one that had landed on Sheppard’s back.
“McKay!”
“What? I was doing you a favour.”
“Well, stop it.”
“Sorry. Geez, I was just trying to save you from malaria, or dengue fever, or whatever mosquitoes give you in the Pegasus galaxy. Sure you don’t want some repellant?”
“No, Rodney, I don’t. Are you picking anything up yet? I’m starting to wonder if Stackhouse was suffering from jungle fever of his own when he reported that energy signature.”
“Let me check again.” Rodney pulled out the small Atlantean computer device and squinted down at it, still swatting at the insects with his free hand. “Yes, I’m picking it up now. The energy signal is coming from over,” he pointed a little off to their left, “there. It’s pretty weak though.”
“Okay, lead the way then.” Sheppard carefully stepped behind McKay, a sideways smirk and a raised eyebrow daring him to walk in front.
“Ouch. What was that for?” Rodney glared back at Sheppard.
“What? There was a really big bug on your back…just returning the favour.”
“Oh well then …thank you …I guess. I bruise easily though, you know.” Rodney picked up the pace, pulling ahead of the others, as Sheppard exchanged a goofy grin with Ronan.
“It’s coming from in there.” McKay stopped just in front of what looked like a greenhouse; an oddity to say the least, considering they were in the middle of a tropical jungle. Without waiting for the rest of the team, McKay pushed his way ahead, eyes still firmly fixed on the computer readout. He never even noticed the large …what were they? mushrooms?, until suddenly the nearest one let free a large high-pressure puff of white powder right at the back of McKay’s head, then another one did the same to his face... Pretty soon Rodney was covered from head to toe in white powder.
“Gah, bleh, pleh!” Rodney brushed white powder from his clothing with gusto, as he hurriedly backed up. “Great. That’s just great. That’s right, laugh it up everyone!”
“McKay? I think that powder…um well.” Teyla’s face showed her amusement, but she managed to school her expression into a wry grin; Ronan and Sheppard, on the other hand, were far less polite. It took several minutes before they managed to gasp enough air in around their laughter, to say anything; when they did, McKay decided he would have rather that they had just kept their mouths shut.
*************
“Unscheduled gate activation. It’s Colonel Sheppard’s IDC ma’am.”
“Let them through.”
“The shield is down.”
Elizabeth made her way down the stairs, as Colonel Sheppard stepped through the gate. “Colonel Sheppard. You’re not due back for at least another hour, is everyone all right?”
Sheppard pointed over his shoulder, as the rest of his team began emerging from the gate, a cheeky grin suddenly lighting up his face. “Rodney had a little ‘incident’ with some local plant life, and we decided to call it a day.”
As Sheppard was finishing this rather curious explanation, several people in the Gate room began to chuckle, some even began to openly laugh out loud, pointing at the object of their ridicule. One Second Lieutenant on gate-guarding duty, even let out a surprised “Oh my gosh…no way,” before breaking into a girlish fit of giggles. Colonel Sheppard obligingly moved to one side, turning to face the rest of the team and giving Weir a good view of a very embarrassed-looking Rodney. She tried unsuccessfully to school the grin that was trying to form on her mouth. “Rodney? What happened?”
Rodney spun around to take in the amused looks of the people around him, at first giving the look of a trapped animal, desperately searching for a place to hide and then settling for scowling at them, with a, “What? It’s not that funny! Shut up!” All the while, he was trying, unsuccessfully, to cover up his head, or more specifically, his hair, which was now completely bleached blonde.
Elizabeth took pity on the morose-looking Rodney. “How about we adjourn to my office for debriefing…gentlemen, Teyla?” She quirked an eyebrow, and turned to face Sheppard again, still attempting to school her features. McKay moved fast enough to beat all of them into the little office. As he reached his goal, he began vigorously scratching at his short hair, much resembling a flea-ridden dog; his efforts rewarded by a large cloud of fine powder dust that seemed to rise up into the air.
“Rodney is that entirely necessary?”
“It’s itchy, okay,” Rodney started to whine, but before he had time to do much more than scowl at John’s question, a familiar sound filled the air, the haunting and instantly recognizable sound of the city’s biohazard alarms. The doors to the Gate room and Weir’s office slid closed and locked tightly.
McKay and Sheppard had a moment to realize what the sound signified before the door to the office had slid shut, locking Weir, Ronan and Teyla out just before they could enter the room.
“That’s not a good sign.”
Rodney just slapped his hand to his head, giving Sheppard a look that clearly said, ‘Well dah’. “Thank you for that piece of insightful information,” he snapped. “I don’t know how I ever got along without you.”
Outside they could hear Elizabeth and Dr Beckett confer, before Beckett must have tapped on his radio.
This is Beckett. It appears we have a possible biological agent in the Gate room. Biohazard teams suit up and report here ASAP.
*************
McKay sighed heavily, looking across the room to where Sheppard was seated at Weir’s desk. They had been trapped in the room for a little over fifteen minutes, as they waited for the medical teams, and by this point they were heartily bored. The pair had lapsed into a sort of sullen silence, broken only by Rodney’s persistent scratching.
After their previous experiences with the Atlantean biohazard detection systems, they had managed to alter them in such a way as to only seal off the rooms in which the hazard was actually detected. Since then, it had become common place to see a doctor or nurse, completely decked out in a biohazard suit, delivering chicken soup to whoever was locked down in their quarters with the flu that week; at least the rest of the base could usually continue to function as per normal. In this case, it was apparently only Dr Weir’s office and the control room that had been locked down, making the most likely culprit for the scare whatever was currently residing in Rodney’s bleached blonde hair.
“Rodney, would you stop that,” Sheppard started again, but stopped, as he was surprised by the new pitch his voice had apparently taken on while he had been sitting silently.
“Hehehee, you sound like a chipmunk!” quipped Rodney, only to hear his own voice sounding equally silly, which set him to giggling all the harder.
Rodney stood up a little unsteadily; his head felt sort of fuzzy, but he launched into his favourite Kavanagh quote of the week in his now squeaky voice, completing the impersonation by making pretend glasses with his hands. “Do you mean to insinuate that I should tolerate such abominable insubordination from someone whose mentality is barely that of an Eratus bug?”
“That isn’t even funny.” Sheppard giggled too. “He said that?”
“I know, but I can’t stop laughing and yeah, to Zelenka. For our voices to change timbre, there must be a seriously high level of helium or a similar gas in this room and hypoxia will make you insanely happy; believe me I know.”
“I’m a pilot, Rodney, I know about hypoxia.”
Rodney took a moment to giggle some more. “We have to get out of this room and into a larger space.” With that, he pulled out a pocket knife and began to gleefully dig at the door controls, but not before noting, “Hey Sheppard. You know, blonde really suits you.” He sputtered with laughter at the look of bemused horror on the other man’s face.
The biohazard teams arrived just in time to see the door to Weir’s office stutter open and the giggling, blonde-haired duo tumble out into the Gate room, gleefully singing a very realistic-sounding version of the theme to the Smurfs. La laa la la la laa laa lalala laa. They collapsed in a fit of giggles on the floor, before lying still and desperately sucking in fresh air. The occasional giggle still escaped them, as they waved limply at the perplexed-looking medics.
*************
Carson leaned over the microscope, looking carefully at the microscopic organisms contained in the dish. He really just wanted to find something to kill this thing soon, but so far all the usual suspects had had no effect on the organism.
The resident microbiologists and botanists had identified the thing as ‘not a fungus exactly’, but it was the closest description they had for it. It was certainly hard enough to study when it kept regularly spitting out helium-filled spores that would float around the dish slowly releasing the gas, before settling and starting the process again. The only good news so far, was that the organism didn’t appear to be lethal in any way. It was just damn annoying, as the increasingly blonde population of the gate room and even Carson himself could attest to. There was some irony, he thought, in the fact that he’d pointed out, on several occasions, how McKay and Sheppard were giving him white hairs; this however wasn’t what he’d meant.
Stretching, he stood and began pacing around the room. The makeshift lab, which had been set up in an adjacent room, was packed with people. They had soldiers searching Atlantis for anything that might serve as a fungicide and every scientist that could be jammed into a biohazard suit was currently testing these solutions in various combinations on the bleaching fungus. So far, they had had very little luck.
“Dr Beckett, Dr Beckett!” The gloved hand of a scientist flew up and waved around, enabling Carson to identify the excitable speaker as Dr Katie Brown. “I think I’ve got something. Look!”
Carson moved quickly to her side, where she moved over to allow him to peer into the microscope. He made a happy sound, as he noted all the fungi in the dish appeared to be dead. “It kills the spores too,” noted Dr. Brown, “but I don’t think Rodney is going to like it much.”
“Good work, Doctor,” beamed Carson, as he reached to open a radio channel. Elizabeth, we think we’ve found something. I’ll be there shortly. Carson out.
*************
“Lemons? Lemons! You’re all just determined to kill me aren’t you?” McKay’s ranting could be heard from one end of the Control Room to the other. “Surely there’s something else that kills this fungus stuff.”
Dr Beckett had explained the cure to Dr Weir quietly, before the rest of the team had arrived with the industrial strength lemon detergent mixture. They had tried other cleaners on hand, but none of them had been effective. It was the lemon fresh scented one or nothing at all. That had led them to try the lemons in the mess hall, only to find that they also worked to kill the organism. A mixture of lemon juice and detergent had been made into a spray solution and the teams now entering were setting up a decontamination shower for the personnel and were beginning to spray the room.
McKay was irate.
Weir reached up to scratch her own blonde hair, before catching herself and self consciously pulling her hand away. There wasn’t a dark-haired person left in the room; even Ronan’s Dreadlocks had succumbed to the blonding action of the organism and they were all feeling self conscious and irritable. She rounded on Rodney.
“Rodney McKay. Stop right there. You are going into that shower, whether you like it or not. Dr Beckett and his team are ready to treat you and believe me if there was any other way…”
“Noo no no no no! You can’t, I can’t.” He backed up into the waiting arms of Cadman and Sheppard, who gently grabbed his arms to steer him in the right direction. “Come on, McKay. You’ll be fine.”
“We’ll go through together, all right?” Cadman tried, but Rodney just squirmed more, looking pitiful. Elizabeth and Carson sighed, as they gently nudged him toward the shower.
As Rodney sagged in resignation, Cadman grinned reassuringly at him. “Hey Rodney? How do you know a second blonde has been using your computer?”
Rodney looked up at that, a small smile breaking through his pout. “I don’t know Cadman. How do you know?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.
“There’s fresh writing on top of the whiteout.”
*************
A few hours later, a bunch of blonde-haired, lemon-scented, wet and blanket-wrapped personnel sat in the infirmary, Weir was busy adding hair dye orders to the next Daedalus supply run and the Gate Room’s was positively sparkling after it’s unexpected spring clean.
The end!
+ Art:
Artist: sakuracorr
Type: I meant it as a poster, but I guess that could be debated.
Notes: I was more going for Pop Art in the vein of Lichtenstein, but it didn't work out quite that way as I was new to the Photoshop methods I was using, and it turned out to be a bit more time consuming than I thought. Sorry about not meeting the size requirements this time around.
Resources: New Atlantis
Teaser + Link:
