Costumes Anyone? by coldqueen
Title: Costume Anyone?
Rating: T
Characters: Elizabeth Weir, with cameos by lots of people
Summary: All Hallows Eve in Pegasus = COSTUME PARTY! And all the chaos and fun that follows.
Atlantis, for the most part, follows it's own schedule. Holidays are celebrated at the people's own discretion, and Elizabeth likes it that way. It keeps her requisition form approvals down to a minimum. However, on a roughly equivalent day to Earth's Halloween, John Sheppard has obviously set out to make her life hell. Dr. Elizabeth Weir dislikes Halloween.
It wasn't the holiday itself, or it's Pagan ancestry, or any of that. It was the sheer silliness of the holiday. Elizabeth had never been one for frivolity, and tolerated others with the penchant for it. She had a sense of humor, be it solemn and generally somber. Halloween was everything she didn't enjoy. Lots of jokes and playfulness abounding around. Lots of drinking and candy and promiscuity encouraged all around. Atlantis, a city with no children, and scantily clad people running about all in the sake of "trick or treat". She could feel the headache coming on even as John explained what he wanted to do and what for.
Even as the streamers flew up, and the kitchens started up batch after batch of cookies and candy, Elizabeth was kneeding her forehead and thinking of ways to avoid the gathering (at the same time planning to filch John's last fifth of scotch). There would be no avoidance on her part, as John insisted. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her neck, generally pulling her in the direction of the mess hall. "Wait until you see me and Teyla's costume."
"You and Teyla are going together?" Elizabeth asked, her voice calm and cool despite urgings to run in the opposite direction. The closer they got to the center of festivities, the more orange and black the hallways became. It also got noisier, as laughter and...singing...echoed down to them.
"Oh yeah! We've been watching some old TV shows, and she's real fond of this one particular one...ironically, she actually already had the right outfit, we just needed to dye it...but I don't want to spoil the surprise. You'll see."
Suddenly...it occured to her. "I can't go now, John!"
They stopped in the middle of the hallway. He looked confused, adorably so. "Why not?"
"I don't have a costume on."
"Oh...darn. I got to get dressed too." John glared at her suspiciously. "If you're not there in an hour, I'll send Ronon to go get you...and wait until you see what I got him dressed as."
She really didn't want to; it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was not going to get to stave it off. Elizabeth sighed as she returned to her quarters, looking around the decorated and colorful room. It was blissfully quiet and calm compared to the hectic activity just a few hallways away. Still, she could tolerate an hour in the inebriated company of her friends. Friends who would be expecting a costume. She sighed as she looked around her room, wondering where in Pegasus she'd get a costume. Suddenly, her eyes alighted on one of her wall decorations, and she knew exactly what'd she dress as for the damn thing. It was simple, but classic.
Add a white blouse and some black boots, and she was good to go. The bottom, looking so good on the wall, was decidely shorter on herself. In point of fact, it fit perfectly for the role she was playing. All she had to do was smile sweetly for an hour, and back to her rooms for a night of bookreading and tea. Just one hour.
Elizabeth walked down the now empty hallway to the mess hall, and was amazed by the sight within. The room was quite simply, packed wall to wall. It looked as if every person in Atlantis, and good chunk from Caldwell's crew, were costumed and in this room. Considering how impromptu the party was, many of them had come up with some good costumes. Elizabeth saw an alarming number of togas, mostly made from white sheets (Which the cleaning staff would no doubt not appreciate), and also an alarming number of slipping togas, and wandering hands. Something told her the punch was spiked.
Speaking of spikes, Elizabeth was standing in the doorway, minding her own business, when a freakishly spiky-haired but well-built, appearing to be crayon-covered, man walked up beside her and laughed. "This is fun."
She gave him a sidelook, demurely clasping her hands behind her back. "And you are?"
"It's me. Lorne."
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow and took in his paint-spattered clothing. "And what are you supposed to be? Picasso?"
He laughed. "Hardly. Um...remember when Zelenka got stranded on the planet of children and came back..."
"Oh my...has he seen you yet?"
"No, but Rodney has and I do believe he fell over laughing."
Elizabeth fought back laughter of her own, and struggled to look stern. "Mocking fellow colleagues does not seem like a good idea to me, Mark."
Lorne shrugged and eyed her own costume. "I never did follow logic. Nice costume," he commented before giving a small wave and disappearing into the crowd and shouting, "I am not speaking to you!", causing several people within sight to burst out giggling. Elizabeth merely smiled and started to walk around the edge of the huge crowd, making her way to the punch bowl (liquor, sweet liquor). She was craving jello shots right about now, making her oddly nostalgic for her boarding school days, but perhaps that was because of the costume she was wearing.
Finally within sight of that oh-so-tempting golden bowl of justifying incursions into drunken crowds, Elizabeth was quite suddenly in front of a tall black man with dreadlocks. She looked up curiously and found herself remarking quietly, "Ronon, are you wearing blackface?"
"What's blackface?"
"It's black paint that really old theatre stars used to wear to portray...nevermind. Who are you tonight?" She found herself asking, though seconds before she was swearing that after Lorne's costume, she really didn't want to know more. However, the tall dreadlocked man clothed in a jean shirt and pants, and with a ragged guitar strapped to his back who was walking around in blackface just begged for the question.
Ronon grinned, his teeth superwhite against the darkened skin of his face. "John instructed me on what to wear. He told me that I am Bob Marley."
Elizabeth actually burst out laughing. "Seriously?"
Ronon nodded, pulling out a makeshift marijuana joint which smelled heavily of parsley and stuck it in his mouth. "I shot the sheriff, but not the deputy."
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow and slowly stepped around him. "That's nice. I'm gonna...go over there now." Elizabeth turned and practically ran the opposite direction. Between Lorne and Ronon, she'd already used up a half hour of her time limit, and she wanted at least one drink before she bailed. It was the least she owed her team.
Sidestepping Tarzan and Jane, not to mention three different versions of Elvis, Elizabeth picked up a pre-poured cup of punch and was gratefully sipping it down when she turned and came into sight of Carson and Cadman...in the same sweater? A freakishly stretched sweater. Fighting not to cough up golden pineapple flavored (rum-lightened) punch all over an oddly disproportionate Aquaman, Elizabeth struggled to make heads or tails of what the two of them could be. Tweedledum and Tweedledee? A two-headed alien?
"They're conjoined twins," a voice explained from next to her, giving vocal resonance of the same discomfort and censure that she herself found herself thinking.
She turned with a smile and another hefty drink of rum *cough* punch. Rodney stood there, swaying slightly with a clearly drunken stare, and looked (except for the drunkenness) exactly as he always had. She was puzzled as to what his costume was, and was on the urge of breaking her twice-made vow not to ask, when he explained.
"Check the badge."
She leaned closer, causing several male Wraith (some soldiers had extremely frakked up senses of humor) to damn near swoon as she bent forward, as read his small ID badge. Hi! I am... WILHELM CONRAD RÖNTGEN.
Elizabeth straightened and smiled. "I don't get it."
Rodney sighed. "No one does. Radek did. Radek is smart! Then...he saw Lorne and ran away all mad." Okay, so Rodney was definitely drunk. Elizabeth picked up a second glass of punch and looked around. She didn't blame him.
Elizabeth was standing there, idly watching as a certain couple of "mummies" got into a small tussle after one mummy 'accidentally' stepped on the end of the other's wrapping and caused some unwrapping...right around the chest area...when John Sheppard walked up, fully regaled in his dress uniform. On his arm, was a brightly pink clad Teyla...looking very bellydancer. Elizabeth cocked her head, along with Rodney, and studied the pair.
As the couple stood there, letting the effect wash over the other two, Elizabeth finally heard a click in her head and "got it". She smiled at Teyla. "Hey Jeannie." She turned to John. "And Nelson."
Beside her, Rodney nodded his head that he got it too, then keeled over on the spot, and passed out whilst crawling under the punch table. Elizabeth started on her third glass of punch.
As it was, the four of them (including the now prostate Rodney who apparently could not hold his liquor) stood there for the better part of an hour, mocking the many costumes and generally getting jolly. It was then that the ball dropped.
Conjoined twins, Carson and Cadman took to the small dias recklessly thrown together on the other side of the room and started to shout for attention. It took half an hour (and another drink for Lizzy), but finally it got kinda quiet.
"Hello one and all!" Carson started.
"Welcome to the first annual Costume Party!" Cadman finished.
Together, they spoke. "And the first annual Costume Competition!"
Much applause, blah, blah, blah. She contemplated sneaking out while everyone was distracted. No such luck though. The only lucky thing was that whoever spiked the juice did it very liberally. Elizabeth sipped the warm but cold drink and smiled idly. Beside her, Caldwell idled up and grinned, whispering loud enough for her to hear.
"Nice costume."
"Thanks. What are you?" She asked, eyeing his clothing (and once again breaking her damn promise). He was wearing a large tan trenchcoat, though she had no idea where he'd gotten it.
"I'm a flasher."
"A what?" She asked as the crowd suddenly applauded again as the "twins" said something funny.
He leaned closer. "A flasher. You know. A guy who flashes young girls?"
Elizabeth froze and eyed him suspiciously. "Don't even think about it."
Caldwell grinned.
Up on stage, Carson started to speak louder. "And the winner of the contest is...our very own naughty schoolgirl...Dr. WEIR!"
Elizabeth froze, standing there by a naked man, a tv couple, a fetal-positioned Nobel Prize Winner, and fought the urge to guzzle the drink in hand.
Had she mentioned that she disliked Halloween?
Rating: T
Characters: Elizabeth Weir, with cameos by lots of people
Summary: All Hallows Eve in Pegasus = COSTUME PARTY! And all the chaos and fun that follows.
Atlantis, for the most part, follows it's own schedule. Holidays are celebrated at the people's own discretion, and Elizabeth likes it that way. It keeps her requisition form approvals down to a minimum. However, on a roughly equivalent day to Earth's Halloween, John Sheppard has obviously set out to make her life hell. Dr. Elizabeth Weir dislikes Halloween.
It wasn't the holiday itself, or it's Pagan ancestry, or any of that. It was the sheer silliness of the holiday. Elizabeth had never been one for frivolity, and tolerated others with the penchant for it. She had a sense of humor, be it solemn and generally somber. Halloween was everything she didn't enjoy. Lots of jokes and playfulness abounding around. Lots of drinking and candy and promiscuity encouraged all around. Atlantis, a city with no children, and scantily clad people running about all in the sake of "trick or treat". She could feel the headache coming on even as John explained what he wanted to do and what for.
Even as the streamers flew up, and the kitchens started up batch after batch of cookies and candy, Elizabeth was kneeding her forehead and thinking of ways to avoid the gathering (at the same time planning to filch John's last fifth of scotch). There would be no avoidance on her part, as John insisted. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her neck, generally pulling her in the direction of the mess hall. "Wait until you see me and Teyla's costume."
"You and Teyla are going together?" Elizabeth asked, her voice calm and cool despite urgings to run in the opposite direction. The closer they got to the center of festivities, the more orange and black the hallways became. It also got noisier, as laughter and...singing...echoed down to them.
"Oh yeah! We've been watching some old TV shows, and she's real fond of this one particular one...ironically, she actually already had the right outfit, we just needed to dye it...but I don't want to spoil the surprise. You'll see."
Suddenly...it occured to her. "I can't go now, John!"
They stopped in the middle of the hallway. He looked confused, adorably so. "Why not?"
"I don't have a costume on."
"Oh...darn. I got to get dressed too." John glared at her suspiciously. "If you're not there in an hour, I'll send Ronon to go get you...and wait until you see what I got him dressed as."
She really didn't want to; it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was not going to get to stave it off. Elizabeth sighed as she returned to her quarters, looking around the decorated and colorful room. It was blissfully quiet and calm compared to the hectic activity just a few hallways away. Still, she could tolerate an hour in the inebriated company of her friends. Friends who would be expecting a costume. She sighed as she looked around her room, wondering where in Pegasus she'd get a costume. Suddenly, her eyes alighted on one of her wall decorations, and she knew exactly what'd she dress as for the damn thing. It was simple, but classic.
Add a white blouse and some black boots, and she was good to go. The bottom, looking so good on the wall, was decidely shorter on herself. In point of fact, it fit perfectly for the role she was playing. All she had to do was smile sweetly for an hour, and back to her rooms for a night of bookreading and tea. Just one hour.
Elizabeth walked down the now empty hallway to the mess hall, and was amazed by the sight within. The room was quite simply, packed wall to wall. It looked as if every person in Atlantis, and good chunk from Caldwell's crew, were costumed and in this room. Considering how impromptu the party was, many of them had come up with some good costumes. Elizabeth saw an alarming number of togas, mostly made from white sheets (Which the cleaning staff would no doubt not appreciate), and also an alarming number of slipping togas, and wandering hands. Something told her the punch was spiked.
Speaking of spikes, Elizabeth was standing in the doorway, minding her own business, when a freakishly spiky-haired but well-built, appearing to be crayon-covered, man walked up beside her and laughed. "This is fun."
She gave him a sidelook, demurely clasping her hands behind her back. "And you are?"
"It's me. Lorne."
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow and took in his paint-spattered clothing. "And what are you supposed to be? Picasso?"
He laughed. "Hardly. Um...remember when Zelenka got stranded on the planet of children and came back..."
"Oh my...has he seen you yet?"
"No, but Rodney has and I do believe he fell over laughing."
Elizabeth fought back laughter of her own, and struggled to look stern. "Mocking fellow colleagues does not seem like a good idea to me, Mark."
Lorne shrugged and eyed her own costume. "I never did follow logic. Nice costume," he commented before giving a small wave and disappearing into the crowd and shouting, "I am not speaking to you!", causing several people within sight to burst out giggling. Elizabeth merely smiled and started to walk around the edge of the huge crowd, making her way to the punch bowl (liquor, sweet liquor). She was craving jello shots right about now, making her oddly nostalgic for her boarding school days, but perhaps that was because of the costume she was wearing.
Finally within sight of that oh-so-tempting golden bowl of justifying incursions into drunken crowds, Elizabeth was quite suddenly in front of a tall black man with dreadlocks. She looked up curiously and found herself remarking quietly, "Ronon, are you wearing blackface?"
"What's blackface?"
"It's black paint that really old theatre stars used to wear to portray...nevermind. Who are you tonight?" She found herself asking, though seconds before she was swearing that after Lorne's costume, she really didn't want to know more. However, the tall dreadlocked man clothed in a jean shirt and pants, and with a ragged guitar strapped to his back who was walking around in blackface just begged for the question.
Ronon grinned, his teeth superwhite against the darkened skin of his face. "John instructed me on what to wear. He told me that I am Bob Marley."
Elizabeth actually burst out laughing. "Seriously?"
Ronon nodded, pulling out a makeshift marijuana joint which smelled heavily of parsley and stuck it in his mouth. "I shot the sheriff, but not the deputy."
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow and slowly stepped around him. "That's nice. I'm gonna...go over there now." Elizabeth turned and practically ran the opposite direction. Between Lorne and Ronon, she'd already used up a half hour of her time limit, and she wanted at least one drink before she bailed. It was the least she owed her team.
Sidestepping Tarzan and Jane, not to mention three different versions of Elvis, Elizabeth picked up a pre-poured cup of punch and was gratefully sipping it down when she turned and came into sight of Carson and Cadman...in the same sweater? A freakishly stretched sweater. Fighting not to cough up golden pineapple flavored (rum-lightened) punch all over an oddly disproportionate Aquaman, Elizabeth struggled to make heads or tails of what the two of them could be. Tweedledum and Tweedledee? A two-headed alien?
"They're conjoined twins," a voice explained from next to her, giving vocal resonance of the same discomfort and censure that she herself found herself thinking.
She turned with a smile and another hefty drink of rum *cough* punch. Rodney stood there, swaying slightly with a clearly drunken stare, and looked (except for the drunkenness) exactly as he always had. She was puzzled as to what his costume was, and was on the urge of breaking her twice-made vow not to ask, when he explained.
"Check the badge."
She leaned closer, causing several male Wraith (some soldiers had extremely frakked up senses of humor) to damn near swoon as she bent forward, as read his small ID badge. Hi! I am... WILHELM CONRAD RÖNTGEN.
Elizabeth straightened and smiled. "I don't get it."
Rodney sighed. "No one does. Radek did. Radek is smart! Then...he saw Lorne and ran away all mad." Okay, so Rodney was definitely drunk. Elizabeth picked up a second glass of punch and looked around. She didn't blame him.
Elizabeth was standing there, idly watching as a certain couple of "mummies" got into a small tussle after one mummy 'accidentally' stepped on the end of the other's wrapping and caused some unwrapping...right around the chest area...when John Sheppard walked up, fully regaled in his dress uniform. On his arm, was a brightly pink clad Teyla...looking very bellydancer. Elizabeth cocked her head, along with Rodney, and studied the pair.
As the couple stood there, letting the effect wash over the other two, Elizabeth finally heard a click in her head and "got it". She smiled at Teyla. "Hey Jeannie." She turned to John. "And Nelson."
Beside her, Rodney nodded his head that he got it too, then keeled over on the spot, and passed out whilst crawling under the punch table. Elizabeth started on her third glass of punch.
As it was, the four of them (including the now prostate Rodney who apparently could not hold his liquor) stood there for the better part of an hour, mocking the many costumes and generally getting jolly. It was then that the ball dropped.
Conjoined twins, Carson and Cadman took to the small dias recklessly thrown together on the other side of the room and started to shout for attention. It took half an hour (and another drink for Lizzy), but finally it got kinda quiet.
"Hello one and all!" Carson started.
"Welcome to the first annual Costume Party!" Cadman finished.
Together, they spoke. "And the first annual Costume Competition!"
Much applause, blah, blah, blah. She contemplated sneaking out while everyone was distracted. No such luck though. The only lucky thing was that whoever spiked the juice did it very liberally. Elizabeth sipped the warm but cold drink and smiled idly. Beside her, Caldwell idled up and grinned, whispering loud enough for her to hear.
"Nice costume."
"Thanks. What are you?" She asked, eyeing his clothing (and once again breaking her damn promise). He was wearing a large tan trenchcoat, though she had no idea where he'd gotten it.
"I'm a flasher."
"A what?" She asked as the crowd suddenly applauded again as the "twins" said something funny.
He leaned closer. "A flasher. You know. A guy who flashes young girls?"
Elizabeth froze and eyed him suspiciously. "Don't even think about it."
Caldwell grinned.
Up on stage, Carson started to speak louder. "And the winner of the contest is...our very own naughty schoolgirl...Dr. WEIR!"
Elizabeth froze, standing there by a naked man, a tv couple, a fetal-positioned Nobel Prize Winner, and fought the urge to guzzle the drink in hand.
Had she mentioned that she disliked Halloween?