SGA Fic: Holiday Cheer (G)
Title: Holiday Cheer
Rating: G
Genre: Team, Humor
Length: 999
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not for profit, blah blah blah copy write cakes.
Summary: It's Christmas time and while on an away mission things go awry.
Author's Note: Look! I wrote! The muse coughed up a hairball!! Enjoy.
When the `Gate opened three hours earlier than expected Woolsey naturally dropped what he was doing and rushed out of his office. Unscheduled off-world activations never meant anything good had happened. Usually the words "coming in hot" or "have a medical team on stand-by" were the first ones heard over the communications link the second it was established in these situations. Woolsey glanced over at Chuck and received a nod confirming the shield was in place before he even asked, and as he headed for his customary spot by the railing, scowl set and ready, he wondered what horrible thing the Pegasus Galaxy threw at the team this time.
"I'm picking up Teyla's IDC," Chuck said.
Not the Colonel's? Woolsey thought and the panic shot up a notch. "Patch her through," he said and gripped the railing.
"Atlantis, this is Teyla. Please lower the shield,we are coming home now."
Well, now - she doesn't sound stressed, he thought. If anything, she sounded … exasperated. Incredibly exasperated. "What happened, Teyla?"
Before Teyla could reply loud singing came over the link, and from the volume it was very close to her, but not close enough to drown out her tired sigh. "Ronon the dreadlocked runner, had a very shiny gun!"
Woolsey identified Rodney's off-key and very inebriated voice immediately. A second later another equally inebriated and even more tonally challenged voice continued the verse. "And if they ever saw it, Wraith would turn around and run!"
The sound of drunken laughter filled the `Gate Room.
"Lower the shield," Woolsey sighed as he reached under his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Teyla was first through and carrying an extra P90, and wore the universal frown of a mother who was at her wit's end. The rest of the team followed, Ronon in the middle, grinning like a maniac from barely controlled laughter, and holding both Sheppard and McKay upright by the back of their tac vests. The two men could barely stand, let alone walk. The expression "piss limber" popped into Woolsey's mind as he watched Ronon frog-march the two obviously well lubricated men farther into the room.
When they stopped, John looked over at Rodney, punched him in the arm - well, tried to punch him but missed, badly - raised an eyebrow up towards where Woolsey stood above them, put a finger to his lips, and let out a loud shhh. Rodney glared at John, tried to punch him and missed, too, looked up at Woolsey and blinked. "Too la-aate," he sing-songed. "I think he knows." His face screwed up. "Either that or he's reallllly constipated." John snorted and both men broke out into renewed laughter.
Ronon's grin grew even wider.
"Do I dare ask?" Woolsey said to Teyla.
Teyla rolled her eyes and sighed again. "The negotiations with the Saeli went well, we have new allies, but at the feast afterwards…."
"They served this awesome booze in itty bitty cups!" John supplied. He held up a hand and showed just how itty bitty the cups were. Apparently they were about shot glass sized. "Tasted like bomb-a-granite."
Rodney blinked at John. "You said `bomb'." He tried for a disgusted snort, but it came out sounding just … wet. "Typical."
"No, I didn't." John pointed roughly in his friend's direction. "Speaking of bombed…."
"Am not."
"Please!" Teyla shot a frown back at her teammates and both men flinched and hung their heads.
"Told ya that weed looked nothing like mistletoe," Rodney said out of the corner of his mouth. "Shouldn't have tried…."
"I thought it did," John interrupted mulishly.
"Now she's pissed at both of us." This time Rodney did manage to smack John in the arm.
"Ow!"
Teyla took in an annoyed breath through her nose as a hint of color came to her cheeks, then let it out through her mouth as she pushed her bangs briefly back off of her face. "It wasn't alcoholic," she continued tersely. "It was simply a flower nectar. I suspect it reacted with their different physiologies and caused this affect."
"How many of these `itty bitty' cups did they drink?" Woolsey asked, his trepidation clear in his tone.
"Fourteen," Ronon supplied. "Each."
John and Rodney both jumped, and if Ronon hadn't had a death grip on their vests they would have been on their asses when they looked up at the big guy. "Fourteen?" John repeated. He looked at Rodney, an incredibly proud and crooked grin lighting his face. "Dude!" He held up a hand for a high five. It took Rodney two tries, but he accomplished it.
"Better take them to the infirmary, get them checked," Woolsey said.
Rodney suddenly lit up and did the rapid finger snap thing he always did when he had a good idea. "Oh! Oh! Oh! I just thought of a song for Carson!" He kept his hand raised as he started to sing roughly to the tune of O' Little Town ofBethlehem, "O' little mutant pathogen…." Then `n' trailed off slowly as Rodney seemed to search the air for the next words.
John made a very loose rolling `continue' motion. "And…?"
Rodney just slumped. "Nope. That's all I got."
"On second thought," Woolsey said, "take them to their quarters. Let them sleep this off first."
"Gladly," Teyla replied.
Ronon spun his friends towards the exit and John almost went down. "Whoa, there, Chewie. Floor's tilting."
"No, it's not," Rodney said. "It's bouncing."
"I can't wait to bring you two breakfast," Ronon said as they left the `Gate Room.
Woolsey watched the team's retreating backs and couldn't suppress the ominous shiver Ronon's words sent down his spine. He glanced over at Chuck and saw the techie had his lips clamped down tight to keep his own laughter in check. "Think I should have the infirmary on stand-by in the morning?"
"That would probably be wise, sir," Chuck croaked out.
Woolsey sighed, closed his eyes, shook his head, and went back to his office.
End Note: Merry Christmas, y'all! =^.^=
Rating: G
Genre: Team, Humor
Length: 999
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not for profit, blah blah blah copy write cakes.
Summary: It's Christmas time and while on an away mission things go awry.
Author's Note: Look! I wrote! The muse coughed up a hairball!! Enjoy.
When the `Gate opened three hours earlier than expected Woolsey naturally dropped what he was doing and rushed out of his office. Unscheduled off-world activations never meant anything good had happened. Usually the words "coming in hot" or "have a medical team on stand-by" were the first ones heard over the communications link the second it was established in these situations. Woolsey glanced over at Chuck and received a nod confirming the shield was in place before he even asked, and as he headed for his customary spot by the railing, scowl set and ready, he wondered what horrible thing the Pegasus Galaxy threw at the team this time.
"I'm picking up Teyla's IDC," Chuck said.
Not the Colonel's? Woolsey thought and the panic shot up a notch. "Patch her through," he said and gripped the railing.
"Atlantis, this is Teyla. Please lower the shield,we are coming home now."
Well, now - she doesn't sound stressed, he thought. If anything, she sounded … exasperated. Incredibly exasperated. "What happened, Teyla?"
Before Teyla could reply loud singing came over the link, and from the volume it was very close to her, but not close enough to drown out her tired sigh. "Ronon the dreadlocked runner, had a very shiny gun!"
Woolsey identified Rodney's off-key and very inebriated voice immediately. A second later another equally inebriated and even more tonally challenged voice continued the verse. "And if they ever saw it, Wraith would turn around and run!"
The sound of drunken laughter filled the `Gate Room.
"Lower the shield," Woolsey sighed as he reached under his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Teyla was first through and carrying an extra P90, and wore the universal frown of a mother who was at her wit's end. The rest of the team followed, Ronon in the middle, grinning like a maniac from barely controlled laughter, and holding both Sheppard and McKay upright by the back of their tac vests. The two men could barely stand, let alone walk. The expression "piss limber" popped into Woolsey's mind as he watched Ronon frog-march the two obviously well lubricated men farther into the room.
When they stopped, John looked over at Rodney, punched him in the arm - well, tried to punch him but missed, badly - raised an eyebrow up towards where Woolsey stood above them, put a finger to his lips, and let out a loud shhh. Rodney glared at John, tried to punch him and missed, too, looked up at Woolsey and blinked. "Too la-aate," he sing-songed. "I think he knows." His face screwed up. "Either that or he's reallllly constipated." John snorted and both men broke out into renewed laughter.
Ronon's grin grew even wider.
"Do I dare ask?" Woolsey said to Teyla.
Teyla rolled her eyes and sighed again. "The negotiations with the Saeli went well, we have new allies, but at the feast afterwards…."
"They served this awesome booze in itty bitty cups!" John supplied. He held up a hand and showed just how itty bitty the cups were. Apparently they were about shot glass sized. "Tasted like bomb-a-granite."
Rodney blinked at John. "You said `bomb'." He tried for a disgusted snort, but it came out sounding just … wet. "Typical."
"No, I didn't." John pointed roughly in his friend's direction. "Speaking of bombed…."
"Am not."
"Please!" Teyla shot a frown back at her teammates and both men flinched and hung their heads.
"Told ya that weed looked nothing like mistletoe," Rodney said out of the corner of his mouth. "Shouldn't have tried…."
"I thought it did," John interrupted mulishly.
"Now she's pissed at both of us." This time Rodney did manage to smack John in the arm.
"Ow!"
Teyla took in an annoyed breath through her nose as a hint of color came to her cheeks, then let it out through her mouth as she pushed her bangs briefly back off of her face. "It wasn't alcoholic," she continued tersely. "It was simply a flower nectar. I suspect it reacted with their different physiologies and caused this affect."
"How many of these `itty bitty' cups did they drink?" Woolsey asked, his trepidation clear in his tone.
"Fourteen," Ronon supplied. "Each."
John and Rodney both jumped, and if Ronon hadn't had a death grip on their vests they would have been on their asses when they looked up at the big guy. "Fourteen?" John repeated. He looked at Rodney, an incredibly proud and crooked grin lighting his face. "Dude!" He held up a hand for a high five. It took Rodney two tries, but he accomplished it.
"Better take them to the infirmary, get them checked," Woolsey said.
Rodney suddenly lit up and did the rapid finger snap thing he always did when he had a good idea. "Oh! Oh! Oh! I just thought of a song for Carson!" He kept his hand raised as he started to sing roughly to the tune of O' Little Town ofBethlehem, "O' little mutant pathogen…." Then `n' trailed off slowly as Rodney seemed to search the air for the next words.
John made a very loose rolling `continue' motion. "And…?"
Rodney just slumped. "Nope. That's all I got."
"On second thought," Woolsey said, "take them to their quarters. Let them sleep this off first."
"Gladly," Teyla replied.
Ronon spun his friends towards the exit and John almost went down. "Whoa, there, Chewie. Floor's tilting."
"No, it's not," Rodney said. "It's bouncing."
"I can't wait to bring you two breakfast," Ronon said as they left the `Gate Room.
Woolsey watched the team's retreating backs and couldn't suppress the ominous shiver Ronon's words sent down his spine. He glanced over at Chuck and saw the techie had his lips clamped down tight to keep his own laughter in check. "Think I should have the infirmary on stand-by in the morning?"
"That would probably be wise, sir," Chuck croaked out.
Woolsey sighed, closed his eyes, shook his head, and went back to his office.
End Note: Merry Christmas, y'all! =^.^=