The moment Carson had gotten the idea, he'd known it was a good one. He hadn't been fishing in quite a while, and with the change in the weather, it seemed like a good time to try ice fishing
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"Fishing through the ice?" Teyla was speaking to John in the clearing outside of their huts, "Is this another thing that Carson's people..." Teyla caught the frantic eye motions John was making and stopped speaking, turning to smile at Carson.
"Ice fishing," John corrected, his smile matching Teyla's. He'd learned that much from her, at least; if there were any kind of diplomatic olympics, Teyla was pretty much a shoe-in for the gold. "Need help with anything?"
He'd already gathered most everything they'd need in a large backpack-- one of the ones he'd had with him when he arrived, actually. "Aye," He said, reaching down to pick up the poles and hand them to Colonel Sheppard. "How about the poles? And...I suppose we'll all need something to sit on."
Frostbite was one thing, but frostbite on your rear end was a completely different, and far more uncomfortable experience.
Teyla thought of the small wooden stools Daniel had made her, nodding, "I believe I have something we can use." She did give Carson a look to ascertain that he was serious, and this was not some sort of bizarre ritual he was dragging them on to amuse himself. She decided that was impossible. It would be John who would do that sort of thing. "Is there anything else?"
John grabbed the poles from Carson, and gave Teyla a lopsided smile. At least they were both being dragged along for this, and despite the sheer lack of interest John had in ice fishing - seriously, it was just sitting on a chunk of frozen river and sticking string down a hole - it was nice that it was just the three of them.
As far as Carson was concerned, there were only a few sports that compared to fishing. Sure, ice fishing wasn't nearly as exciting as the more traditional types, but that didn't mean that the three of them weren't likely to come out of it with a lovely catch.
"No, I think that'll be it," Carson said to Teyla, shifting the pack on his back, "Shall we head off, then?"
"Yes," She hefted the stools with her good arm, a blanket in the bag that was slung over her shoulder. It was a relief to spend time together, especially after all that had happened, and all of the disappearances. "Is this a tradition among your people?" Teyla asked with all interest, fostering conversation as well as hoping to find out more about why they had chosen this particular conversation.
"It's more a hobby," John said, hefting the poles into a more comfortable position under his arm as they started out. "Some people consider it a sport, like football."
"It is a sport, Colonel," Carson said, not quite offended, but bordering on it. Just because it wasn't people crashing into each other didn't mean it was any less of a sport.
"Of course," Teyla's tone was calm and ameliorating, looking between the two of them and trying to turn the conversation again to something calmer, "Do you suppose the fish have changed as well, to ones from colder waters?"
"Says you," John said, and he almost felt like dredging up the familiarity of an old argument, but he just left it at that. He really wasn't up to arguing about fishing versus golf again, only because he knew golf was the superior sport - and the only person he actually enjoyed arguing with was Rodney, anyway.
Carson shot Colonel Sheppard a look. They’d been through it several times already, and he’d never understand the appeal of hitting a wee ball around with a club. Or how people didn’t find it completely boring.
"Well," He said to Teyla, "I suppose they’d have to, or they’d likely all be dead by now."
"This is very true." Teyla looks between the two of them, wondering if she will have to separate them. "I am sure John and I have much to learn from you."
"I'm sure we do," John said, actually sincere after getting one look at Teyla's face. "I've never been ice fishing before, just regular fishing when I was a kid."
"I've never been myself, t'be honest," Carson admitted. But since the snow had come, he'd done quite a bit of reading on it. It didn't seem horribly different from regular fishing.
'Carson. I believe you are taking us fishing?"
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Frostbite was one thing, but frostbite on your rear end was a completely different, and far more uncomfortable experience.
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"No, I think that'll be it," Carson said to Teyla, shifting the pack on his back, "Shall we head off, then?"
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"Well," He said to Teyla, "I suppose they’d have to, or they’d likely all be dead by now."
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