The Party's Over [First Night / Amnesty 06]
Title: The Party's Over
Author: Huggle
Pairing: none
Challenge: First Night / Amnesty 06
Rating: Suitable for all
Spoilers: none really (unless anyone hasn't seen Rising *g*)
Summary: It’s not what she expected. All of this.
Author's note: Just making it before the end of 06!
Disclaimer: SGA and it's characters don't belong to me.
The party’s over.
More or less, at least. She’s doing the rounds now and isn’t too surprised at having to coax a sleeping scientist, whose name she’s temporarily forgotten, out from under one of the buffet tables.
She nudges him gently in the direction of the quarters. The mess staff is clearing up the remnants of their celebratory meal. Rodney McKay is sitting on one of the tables, letting them work around him, while he hastily scratches out something on a serviette that looks like a lot of geometry and none of which makes any sense. He looks almost gleeful and she shakes her head at one of the kitchen staff who goes to move him on.
It’s not what she expected. All of this. They’d made plans at the SGC. She’s spent countless hours in meetings with scientists and military leaders from every member country of the UN. She’s listened to so many worse case scenarios that until she shook herself hard she was having nightmares and waking up Simon. He’d turn and hug her and ask what was wrong? Never being able to answer, all she could do was relax in his arms, breathe him in and listen to the sounds of the city that was safe and home and not at risk from any of the things they’d predicted could happen.
Funnily enough, there was nothing like the Wraith on the list. Or Atlantis being underwater and them coming damn close to drowning in her hallways. Or losing the expedition’s military commander within 24 hours of their arrival, his life force drained but his life itself ended in an act of mercy by a pilot who’d had such a short time to come to grips with the mission they were undertaking.
She wondered how Sheppard was coping. She at least had had those hours of briefings. She hadn’t found out in one day that not only was there life on other planets, but that a great deal of it was very unfriendly, that Earth was in peril and a system of stable wormholes existed to entire other galaxies. Not to mention that he himself was a descendent of a race of alien beings and was being offered a place on a probably one way expedition to another world where their survival was not guaranteed.
And still, he’d come. She quit on what she’d expected or hadn’t. It wasn’t all bad; they’d at least met possible allies although it was too soon to consider to what level.
One of the cleaners passed with a bag of rubbish from the tables. She planned originally a very minimal celebration: some champagne and that was it. But after everything that had happened today, it hadn’t seemed enough. Now she was thinking of the supplies they’d used up. They’d brought through enough foodstuffs to last them 6 months. There wasn’t the time to bring anything more, with a limited window to get everyone and everything through to Atlantis. Now with the Athosians here as well, those supplies would last even less time. If they couldn’t find an alternative source of food, would she be sitting here in a few months thinking what a waste tonight’s party was, as she watched personnel staggering about with the skin clinging to their bones? When they could have had even another day’s worth of food?
“Quit it,” a voice said suddenly.
Major Sheppard was standing behind her. She’d wondered down to the Stargate and was staring at it.
“Excuse me?”
Sheppard’s face was serious. “Worrying about tomorrow. I know you are.”
“Not worrying,” she said. “Just…preparing. We should. There’s a lot to do.”
“I know. But let yourself and everybody else get used to surviving today first, okay? You should turn in. I’ll chase McKay out.”
Weir smiled. “Alright. But you get some sleep as well. You look as though you could use it.”
Sheppard shrugged, winced and did a poor job of trying to hide it. Weir had heard from Ford that he’d been slammed pretty hard onto that table by the Wraith. Beckett had cleared him but a good night’s sleep would probably help.
“Ma’am,” Sheppard said and went back up to grab Rodney.
Weir headed out to the corridor. Sheppard was right. Against odds greater and more terrifying than anything the experts on the UN and at the SGC had ever imagined, they’d survived. Tomorrow, or the day after, they might not. So what was the harm in a little celebration?
She smiled at the circle before her, wondering of the places it would take them, then turned and headed to her room.
Author: Huggle
Pairing: none
Challenge: First Night / Amnesty 06
Rating: Suitable for all
Spoilers: none really (unless anyone hasn't seen Rising *g*)
Summary: It’s not what she expected. All of this.
Author's note: Just making it before the end of 06!
Disclaimer: SGA and it's characters don't belong to me.
The party’s over.
More or less, at least. She’s doing the rounds now and isn’t too surprised at having to coax a sleeping scientist, whose name she’s temporarily forgotten, out from under one of the buffet tables.
She nudges him gently in the direction of the quarters. The mess staff is clearing up the remnants of their celebratory meal. Rodney McKay is sitting on one of the tables, letting them work around him, while he hastily scratches out something on a serviette that looks like a lot of geometry and none of which makes any sense. He looks almost gleeful and she shakes her head at one of the kitchen staff who goes to move him on.
It’s not what she expected. All of this. They’d made plans at the SGC. She’s spent countless hours in meetings with scientists and military leaders from every member country of the UN. She’s listened to so many worse case scenarios that until she shook herself hard she was having nightmares and waking up Simon. He’d turn and hug her and ask what was wrong? Never being able to answer, all she could do was relax in his arms, breathe him in and listen to the sounds of the city that was safe and home and not at risk from any of the things they’d predicted could happen.
Funnily enough, there was nothing like the Wraith on the list. Or Atlantis being underwater and them coming damn close to drowning in her hallways. Or losing the expedition’s military commander within 24 hours of their arrival, his life force drained but his life itself ended in an act of mercy by a pilot who’d had such a short time to come to grips with the mission they were undertaking.
She wondered how Sheppard was coping. She at least had had those hours of briefings. She hadn’t found out in one day that not only was there life on other planets, but that a great deal of it was very unfriendly, that Earth was in peril and a system of stable wormholes existed to entire other galaxies. Not to mention that he himself was a descendent of a race of alien beings and was being offered a place on a probably one way expedition to another world where their survival was not guaranteed.
And still, he’d come. She quit on what she’d expected or hadn’t. It wasn’t all bad; they’d at least met possible allies although it was too soon to consider to what level.
One of the cleaners passed with a bag of rubbish from the tables. She planned originally a very minimal celebration: some champagne and that was it. But after everything that had happened today, it hadn’t seemed enough. Now she was thinking of the supplies they’d used up. They’d brought through enough foodstuffs to last them 6 months. There wasn’t the time to bring anything more, with a limited window to get everyone and everything through to Atlantis. Now with the Athosians here as well, those supplies would last even less time. If they couldn’t find an alternative source of food, would she be sitting here in a few months thinking what a waste tonight’s party was, as she watched personnel staggering about with the skin clinging to their bones? When they could have had even another day’s worth of food?
“Quit it,” a voice said suddenly.
Major Sheppard was standing behind her. She’d wondered down to the Stargate and was staring at it.
“Excuse me?”
Sheppard’s face was serious. “Worrying about tomorrow. I know you are.”
“Not worrying,” she said. “Just…preparing. We should. There’s a lot to do.”
“I know. But let yourself and everybody else get used to surviving today first, okay? You should turn in. I’ll chase McKay out.”
Weir smiled. “Alright. But you get some sleep as well. You look as though you could use it.”
Sheppard shrugged, winced and did a poor job of trying to hide it. Weir had heard from Ford that he’d been slammed pretty hard onto that table by the Wraith. Beckett had cleared him but a good night’s sleep would probably help.
“Ma’am,” Sheppard said and went back up to grab Rodney.
Weir headed out to the corridor. Sheppard was right. Against odds greater and more terrifying than anything the experts on the UN and at the SGC had ever imagined, they’d survived. Tomorrow, or the day after, they might not. So what was the harm in a little celebration?
She smiled at the circle before her, wondering of the places it would take them, then turned and headed to her room.