A little SGA drabble
So, I've written this little drabble of a fan fic. Be kind, but please do comment. Although I've written quite a lot of fan fic for another franchise, this is only my second for SGA, so constructive comments, even negative ones, are totally appreciated.
Title A McKay By Any Other Name
Author crazymadi
Spoilers McKay and Mrs. Miller
Disclaimer They aren't mine, but you all knew that, right?
Summary Just what is in a name anyway?
Warning It Sunday.... anything could happen.
Please, please read it all here.
“Can we not just write this report?” Teyla Emmagen had just about had it with the bickering that had been going on for almost an hour. “I am very tired, and I would like to sleep before it is morning.”
It had been the worst kind of off world mission. The kind where nothing much happened: no found artifacts, no unexpected wraiths or genii, no aggressive, or even overly friendly, inhabitants. It was simply.... boring, and boring was bad. Boring was irritating, and when a person is irritated around friends it’s only natural to spread that irritation around. After all, misery may love company, but irritation pretty much demands it.
“We would have been done thirty minutes ago,” John complained. “If Meredith here would get his facts straight.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to be accurate.” Rodney snarked. “And do not call me Meredith.”
John clicked his pen and set it down on the pad of paper that sat on the table in front of him in a show of extreme annoyance that was just barely being suppressed by his own Herculean efforts. “I just don’t understand Mer , how it could possibly matter if those things we drank from were called chalices or goblets.”
“Stop calling me that.” Rodney fought to keep his voice calm. “Or I will tell them...” he nodded toward Teyla, who was slowly shaking her head in disbelief, and Ronon, who was cracking his first smile in two hours, “that your real name is Shirley.”
“That’s ridiculous.” John grumbled. “No one would ever believe that my name is...”
“ Shirley? “ Ronon’s smile grew from amused grin, to large guffaw. “Your name is Shirley ?
Teyla frowned. “Is not Lieutenant Baldwin named Shirley?”
“Yes.” Rodney’s voice carried triumph. Her name is Shirley.”
“Oh, I see.” Teyla’s frown smoothed in to a smile.
“My name is not Shirley.” The few people still in the commissary at this hour turned as the Colonel’s voice boomed. John looked around, then pretended to write something in his notebook. He didn’t look up as he continued in a quieter voice. “Besides, it’s not that bad. My real name could be Rhododendron or something like that.”
“Rhododen.... Who the hell would name their child after a flower..” Rodney stopped. “Wait a minute. What exactly does Ronon mean, anyway?”
Ronon dropped his feet from the table, where they had been propped and leaned forward. “What do you mean, ‘What does it mean?’”
If Rodney was intimidated, he didn’t show it. “It’s a flower, isn’t it. Admit it. A Ronon is a flower.” Rodney started to laugh. “I bet it’s one of those really tall ones.... you know, they look all pretty on the outside but then when you smell the....”
“Put him down, Ronon!” No one had actually seen it happen, but suddenly Rodney was no longer sitting at, but sort of hovering above, the table, hanging by his collar which was firmly grasped in Ronon’s big hands.
Ronon did not take his eyes from Rodney’s, and his smile had gone decidedly feral. “Give me one good reason.”
“Right. Well.....”
“Colonel!” Rodney’s voice sounded more irritated than panicked.
“Fine,” John finally said. “If you kill him now, we’ll have to fill out even more forms, and this day will never end.” Ronon was quiet for a few seconds, then shrugged and opened his hands.
“That’s it?” Rodney stood up and brushed dirt and little bits of cafeteria jetsam from the seat of his pants. “Forms? That’s what my life is worth? Forms?
John shrugged and fought to keep the grin from his face. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“That is it.” Teyla stood, hands on hips, and faced the rest of her team. “If you boys are going to continue to waste time on such things, I am going to bed.”
John, Rodney, and Ronon all stopped talking and stared, and then, as if some red flashing light had prompted them to act at once, they all began laughing.
“Aw, gee, Mrs. Cleaver,” John managed to spit out, in an almost falsetto voice. “We didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”
Rodney some how managed to pull a serious face long enough to add. “Now, June. Don’t be too hard on the boys. They’re just full of youthful enthusiasm.”
Teyla clenched, then unclenched, her fists, in order to try to keep control of her soon to be out of control emotions. “I believe you should both speak with Dr. Heightmeyer as soon as possible.”
Ronon put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it......... June .
Teyla said some words that Beaver’s mom would never had said and stormed out of the commissary, with as much dignity as anyone could who was being followed by the echos of raucous laughter.
When they had finally run out of steam, John managed to look just a little ashamed. “We should really probably apologize to her, huh.”
Rodney nodded a little. “Tomorrow, though.”
“Oh yeah,” John agreed. “Definitely tomorrow.” He looked at his notebook. “What do you say we just send in what we have and call it good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ronon agreed.
Rodney snapped the lid on his lap top. “I know I could use some sleep.” He picked up the computer and headed for the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
John stood and stretched. “I think I’ll skip War and Peace for tonight, and just go right to bed.”
Ronon stood to follow. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired, too. By the way.... Just who is this June Cleaver?”
Title A McKay By Any Other Name
Author crazymadi
Spoilers McKay and Mrs. Miller
Disclaimer They aren't mine, but you all knew that, right?
Summary Just what is in a name anyway?
Warning It Sunday.... anything could happen.
Please, please read it all here.
“Can we not just write this report?” Teyla Emmagen had just about had it with the bickering that had been going on for almost an hour. “I am very tired, and I would like to sleep before it is morning.”
It had been the worst kind of off world mission. The kind where nothing much happened: no found artifacts, no unexpected wraiths or genii, no aggressive, or even overly friendly, inhabitants. It was simply.... boring, and boring was bad. Boring was irritating, and when a person is irritated around friends it’s only natural to spread that irritation around. After all, misery may love company, but irritation pretty much demands it.
“We would have been done thirty minutes ago,” John complained. “If Meredith here would get his facts straight.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to be accurate.” Rodney snarked. “And do not call me Meredith.”
John clicked his pen and set it down on the pad of paper that sat on the table in front of him in a show of extreme annoyance that was just barely being suppressed by his own Herculean efforts. “I just don’t understand Mer , how it could possibly matter if those things we drank from were called chalices or goblets.”
“Stop calling me that.” Rodney fought to keep his voice calm. “Or I will tell them...” he nodded toward Teyla, who was slowly shaking her head in disbelief, and Ronon, who was cracking his first smile in two hours, “that your real name is Shirley.”
“That’s ridiculous.” John grumbled. “No one would ever believe that my name is...”
“ Shirley? “ Ronon’s smile grew from amused grin, to large guffaw. “Your name is Shirley ?
Teyla frowned. “Is not Lieutenant Baldwin named Shirley?”
“Yes.” Rodney’s voice carried triumph. Her name is Shirley.”
“Oh, I see.” Teyla’s frown smoothed in to a smile.
“My name is not Shirley.” The few people still in the commissary at this hour turned as the Colonel’s voice boomed. John looked around, then pretended to write something in his notebook. He didn’t look up as he continued in a quieter voice. “Besides, it’s not that bad. My real name could be Rhododendron or something like that.”
“Rhododen.... Who the hell would name their child after a flower..” Rodney stopped. “Wait a minute. What exactly does Ronon mean, anyway?”
Ronon dropped his feet from the table, where they had been propped and leaned forward. “What do you mean, ‘What does it mean?’”
If Rodney was intimidated, he didn’t show it. “It’s a flower, isn’t it. Admit it. A Ronon is a flower.” Rodney started to laugh. “I bet it’s one of those really tall ones.... you know, they look all pretty on the outside but then when you smell the....”
“Put him down, Ronon!” No one had actually seen it happen, but suddenly Rodney was no longer sitting at, but sort of hovering above, the table, hanging by his collar which was firmly grasped in Ronon’s big hands.
Ronon did not take his eyes from Rodney’s, and his smile had gone decidedly feral. “Give me one good reason.”
“Right. Well.....”
“Colonel!” Rodney’s voice sounded more irritated than panicked.
“Fine,” John finally said. “If you kill him now, we’ll have to fill out even more forms, and this day will never end.” Ronon was quiet for a few seconds, then shrugged and opened his hands.
“That’s it?” Rodney stood up and brushed dirt and little bits of cafeteria jetsam from the seat of his pants. “Forms? That’s what my life is worth? Forms?
John shrugged and fought to keep the grin from his face. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“That is it.” Teyla stood, hands on hips, and faced the rest of her team. “If you boys are going to continue to waste time on such things, I am going to bed.”
John, Rodney, and Ronon all stopped talking and stared, and then, as if some red flashing light had prompted them to act at once, they all began laughing.
“Aw, gee, Mrs. Cleaver,” John managed to spit out, in an almost falsetto voice. “We didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”
Rodney some how managed to pull a serious face long enough to add. “Now, June. Don’t be too hard on the boys. They’re just full of youthful enthusiasm.”
Teyla clenched, then unclenched, her fists, in order to try to keep control of her soon to be out of control emotions. “I believe you should both speak with Dr. Heightmeyer as soon as possible.”
Ronon put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it......... June .
Teyla said some words that Beaver’s mom would never had said and stormed out of the commissary, with as much dignity as anyone could who was being followed by the echos of raucous laughter.
When they had finally run out of steam, John managed to look just a little ashamed. “We should really probably apologize to her, huh.”
Rodney nodded a little. “Tomorrow, though.”
“Oh yeah,” John agreed. “Definitely tomorrow.” He looked at his notebook. “What do you say we just send in what we have and call it good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ronon agreed.
Rodney snapped the lid on his lap top. “I know I could use some sleep.” He picked up the computer and headed for the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
John stood and stretched. “I think I’ll skip War and Peace for tonight, and just go right to bed.”
Ronon stood to follow. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired, too. By the way.... Just who is this June Cleaver?”