2 minute things
Right. The ones I've done so far (four peoples' requests). Not sure how in character they are, but I'm bored and my hands are cold...
There be... drabble/ficlet thingies here...
Elizabeth Weir, Atlantis, Magic 8-ball
"Lieutenant!" Dr. Weir's voice rang out in the nearly empty cafeteria. She saw the man stiffen, and almost smirked. But that would give the game away.
"Ma'am." He gave her a cheeky grin.
"I've been hearing, interesting things, Lieutenant."
"Oh?" Aidan Ford, she had to give him credit, was trying for his best innocent but interested look. Maybe that's why General O'Neill had sent him along.
"Yes." A grin was fighting its way to her lips, but that wouldn't be dignified. "A magic 8 ball has mysteriously been making the rounds."
"Really." A pause, "You know, ma'am, I--"
"Aidan." Damn. The grin was loose. "That thing was worth every penny. Just for the look on the Major's face."
"Ma'am?" Now he looked genuinely puzzled.
"Of course, perhaps I shouldn't have allowed McKay to doctor it."
He blinked. "McKay?"
"Yes, Rodney thought he could improve the answers people were getting. I agreed that the ones there were... in a way, boring."
"What was the question the Major asked?"
"Oh, the question doesn't really matter." She paused and let a frown cloud her brow. "Well, not really, at least. In fact, no one's really sure what the question was."
"What was the Major's answer?"
"Never in a million years, unless Holling gets to watch."
Ford chuckled, "Bet that made him unhappy."
Yes. Yes it had. She turned to go, then paused, "Oh, and Lieutenant..."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"If you've got any other surprises up your sleeve. Feel free to let me know about them, first."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Elizabeth made it into the corridor before giving into the giggles. After all, giggling was very undiginified. But it was certainly the reaction when one overheard Major Sheppard asking if he and Teyla would ever have sex.
----
Cally/Leela, spear
Cally is inelegant when she throws her spears. Leela doesn't mind, because it gives her more time admire and correct form. There's not much else to do at the moment, even if they weren't enjoying the vast emptiness of this planet. It could almost be a desert, but the river nearby saves it.
They got here the way they normally get anywhere.
A passed message, a pre-arranged meeting.
Of course, normally, they're running from the Federation.
Leela likes to think that Cally enjoys their little forays into the wild.
Sometimes, she catches a look in Cally's eyes. Sad, a little uncertain. As if she's wondering what she lost to bring her to this point.
That's when Leela proposes strange things, games that distract them both.
Target practice with rocks and pieces of grass and corn on the cob (and it's not as good as it was in the 1900s, but there aren't cooks this far in the future who can make it quite taste the same).
And now spears. Because every good hunter needs to learn how to throw a spear.
Even one who is more comfortable in red leather and boots, a blaster at her side and computer codes breaking down under her fingertips.
Maybe one day, Cally can teach her that fine art.
Until then, they have spears and knives and swords, and sometimes each other, to learn.
----
Rygel, opera singer
"That is not music!"
Rygel the 16th, late of the throne of Hyneria smiled at the stupid human with condescension. "One," he informed him loftily, "should always broaden ones horizons."
"Look, Marty Leach, I don't care if you think that's music." His face screwing up in a most unattractive grimace, John Crichton backed out of the room. "And if I ever have to hear it again--"
"Don't worry, Crichton, I'll reserve the fabulous tones of Madame Lamia for myself. As only a true royal can appreciate the wondrousness of her operatic performance." He gave a self-indulgent chuckle. "After all, I got her where she is today."
----
Sam Carter, Orac, piece of wood
"A piece of wood that fell off the dray that was used in the foundation that crumbled under stress in the house--" she paused to hiccup. "--the house that Jack built."
"Please explain." The box of lights sitting on her kitchen table demanded, its tone irritating and very much the kind of tone one associated with professors who were attempting to beat down a young student who might just be smarter than them.
"Nothing to explain." She eyed the bottle and hiccuped again. "There's just... nothing."
If a box of lights could make a sound of exasperation, this one would have. "Then if there is nothing, why make the observation?"
"Because I feel like a little illogic tonight." She waved a hand, then sighed. "After all, you've appeared in the middle of my kitchen with no discernable explanation. Unless I'm drunker than I think I am. And here I thought talking to my plants would be the only sign of my insensibility."
----
Pilot, poker
He has always understood that bluffing works best on Aeryn. Aeryn Sun, who believes him in every way--and sometimes feels guilty about it all.
It shouldn't be in his nature to take such advantage of her, but if he has learned one thing from Rygel and Chiana (and Aeryn herself), it's that sometimes, one must lie to save face. Or, in this case, lie to save them all.
Pilot sometimes regrets playing what Crichton would have termed 'poker' with the Scarrans. But there's only so often he can run.
And in this case, there are only so many people who can trust him these days.
-----
McKay, green ball he doesn't understand...
"Rodney."
He resolutely ignored the voice.
"Rodney."
Nope. Not gonna pay attention, Elizabeth. Really. He had more important things to think about.
"Dr. McKay."
Now she sounded crisp, and slightly irritated. Still. He was busy.
"Rodney." A hand grabbed his shoulder. "Stop looking so lost."
"I'm not lost." Oops. He straightened, shrugging the hand off. "I'm busy."
"Busy." She arched an eyebrow. "Staring at a large green ball."
"It's... interesting."
"Mhmm. And I bet the Athosian children don't even know you've got it."
"I didn't steal it." Damn. That had sounded whiny. "This ball simply has a propulsion system that I need to study."
"Rodney." Her tone was almost patronizing now. "It's rubber. It bounces."
"It doesn't just bounce, Elizabeth. It--it does things."
"Things?"
He waved a hand, then frowned. "I bet this isn't how General O'Neill treats Colonel Carter."
"No, I'm sure he mocks her more, actually."
"Well, look, that doesn't have anything to do with this."
"Right." She crossed her arms, "Rodney, you have to give it back."
"What if I don't want to?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Do you want me to order you?"
"...no." He knew he looked sulky. Probably sounded it, too. But it wasn't his fault! He wanted to study things, to understand how they worked and then build them and make them better.
"Good. This better have been returned in two hours." She turned to go, then paused. "Oh, and Rodney?"
"What?"
"You get to play with much more interesting things than Colonel Carter."
She *so* had a point. "Yes, yes I do." Ah. Smugness, thy name is Dr. Rodney McKay.
There be... drabble/ficlet thingies here...
Elizabeth Weir, Atlantis, Magic 8-ball
"Lieutenant!" Dr. Weir's voice rang out in the nearly empty cafeteria. She saw the man stiffen, and almost smirked. But that would give the game away.
"Ma'am." He gave her a cheeky grin.
"I've been hearing, interesting things, Lieutenant."
"Oh?" Aidan Ford, she had to give him credit, was trying for his best innocent but interested look. Maybe that's why General O'Neill had sent him along.
"Yes." A grin was fighting its way to her lips, but that wouldn't be dignified. "A magic 8 ball has mysteriously been making the rounds."
"Really." A pause, "You know, ma'am, I--"
"Aidan." Damn. The grin was loose. "That thing was worth every penny. Just for the look on the Major's face."
"Ma'am?" Now he looked genuinely puzzled.
"Of course, perhaps I shouldn't have allowed McKay to doctor it."
He blinked. "McKay?"
"Yes, Rodney thought he could improve the answers people were getting. I agreed that the ones there were... in a way, boring."
"What was the question the Major asked?"
"Oh, the question doesn't really matter." She paused and let a frown cloud her brow. "Well, not really, at least. In fact, no one's really sure what the question was."
"What was the Major's answer?"
"Never in a million years, unless Holling gets to watch."
Ford chuckled, "Bet that made him unhappy."
Yes. Yes it had. She turned to go, then paused, "Oh, and Lieutenant..."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"If you've got any other surprises up your sleeve. Feel free to let me know about them, first."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Elizabeth made it into the corridor before giving into the giggles. After all, giggling was very undiginified. But it was certainly the reaction when one overheard Major Sheppard asking if he and Teyla would ever have sex.
----
Cally/Leela, spear
Cally is inelegant when she throws her spears. Leela doesn't mind, because it gives her more time admire and correct form. There's not much else to do at the moment, even if they weren't enjoying the vast emptiness of this planet. It could almost be a desert, but the river nearby saves it.
They got here the way they normally get anywhere.
A passed message, a pre-arranged meeting.
Of course, normally, they're running from the Federation.
Leela likes to think that Cally enjoys their little forays into the wild.
Sometimes, she catches a look in Cally's eyes. Sad, a little uncertain. As if she's wondering what she lost to bring her to this point.
That's when Leela proposes strange things, games that distract them both.
Target practice with rocks and pieces of grass and corn on the cob (and it's not as good as it was in the 1900s, but there aren't cooks this far in the future who can make it quite taste the same).
And now spears. Because every good hunter needs to learn how to throw a spear.
Even one who is more comfortable in red leather and boots, a blaster at her side and computer codes breaking down under her fingertips.
Maybe one day, Cally can teach her that fine art.
Until then, they have spears and knives and swords, and sometimes each other, to learn.
----
Rygel, opera singer
"That is not music!"
Rygel the 16th, late of the throne of Hyneria smiled at the stupid human with condescension. "One," he informed him loftily, "should always broaden ones horizons."
"Look, Marty Leach, I don't care if you think that's music." His face screwing up in a most unattractive grimace, John Crichton backed out of the room. "And if I ever have to hear it again--"
"Don't worry, Crichton, I'll reserve the fabulous tones of Madame Lamia for myself. As only a true royal can appreciate the wondrousness of her operatic performance." He gave a self-indulgent chuckle. "After all, I got her where she is today."
----
Sam Carter, Orac, piece of wood
"A piece of wood that fell off the dray that was used in the foundation that crumbled under stress in the house--" she paused to hiccup. "--the house that Jack built."
"Please explain." The box of lights sitting on her kitchen table demanded, its tone irritating and very much the kind of tone one associated with professors who were attempting to beat down a young student who might just be smarter than them.
"Nothing to explain." She eyed the bottle and hiccuped again. "There's just... nothing."
If a box of lights could make a sound of exasperation, this one would have. "Then if there is nothing, why make the observation?"
"Because I feel like a little illogic tonight." She waved a hand, then sighed. "After all, you've appeared in the middle of my kitchen with no discernable explanation. Unless I'm drunker than I think I am. And here I thought talking to my plants would be the only sign of my insensibility."
----
Pilot, poker
He has always understood that bluffing works best on Aeryn. Aeryn Sun, who believes him in every way--and sometimes feels guilty about it all.
It shouldn't be in his nature to take such advantage of her, but if he has learned one thing from Rygel and Chiana (and Aeryn herself), it's that sometimes, one must lie to save face. Or, in this case, lie to save them all.
Pilot sometimes regrets playing what Crichton would have termed 'poker' with the Scarrans. But there's only so often he can run.
And in this case, there are only so many people who can trust him these days.
-----
McKay, green ball he doesn't understand...
"Rodney."
He resolutely ignored the voice.
"Rodney."
Nope. Not gonna pay attention, Elizabeth. Really. He had more important things to think about.
"Dr. McKay."
Now she sounded crisp, and slightly irritated. Still. He was busy.
"Rodney." A hand grabbed his shoulder. "Stop looking so lost."
"I'm not lost." Oops. He straightened, shrugging the hand off. "I'm busy."
"Busy." She arched an eyebrow. "Staring at a large green ball."
"It's... interesting."
"Mhmm. And I bet the Athosian children don't even know you've got it."
"I didn't steal it." Damn. That had sounded whiny. "This ball simply has a propulsion system that I need to study."
"Rodney." Her tone was almost patronizing now. "It's rubber. It bounces."
"It doesn't just bounce, Elizabeth. It--it does things."
"Things?"
He waved a hand, then frowned. "I bet this isn't how General O'Neill treats Colonel Carter."
"No, I'm sure he mocks her more, actually."
"Well, look, that doesn't have anything to do with this."
"Right." She crossed her arms, "Rodney, you have to give it back."
"What if I don't want to?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Do you want me to order you?"
"...no." He knew he looked sulky. Probably sounded it, too. But it wasn't his fault! He wanted to study things, to understand how they worked and then build them and make them better.
"Good. This better have been returned in two hours." She turned to go, then paused. "Oh, and Rodney?"
"What?"
"You get to play with much more interesting things than Colonel Carter."
She *so* had a point. "Yes, yes I do." Ah. Smugness, thy name is Dr. Rodney McKay.