The High Price of Cake (Cake or Death Challenge)
“Okay, see now that just… You know it just tastes so…”
“Wrong?”
Colonel John Sheppard looked at the plate that held what should have been chocolate goodness, and then at Rodney McKay, who held a similar plate and had an expression that held both bewilderment and disgust. “That’s not quite the word I was looking for, but it will do.” He put the plate down on the nearest table and backed away from it, slowly and quietly, as if it were a bomb ready to explode. “Teyla, are you sure you got the recipe right?”
Teyla Emmagen looked at the cake that sat in the middle of the cafeteria table and sighed. “I am quite sure I followed the directions Dr. Zelenka gave me exactly.”
“Maybe something got lost in the translation.” Sheppard suggested.
“Zelenka?” Rodney pushed his plate so that it was an arm’s length away, lest even a tiny bit of the foul concoction should find its way back to his mouth and his unsuspecting taste buds. “You got a recipe for chocolate cake from Zelenka?” He looked sadly at the plate, obviously considering whether a second bite might not be better. “What a waste of perfectly good chocolate.”
“Well, what do we do now?” The question came from Sheppard and the trio looked at the cake that sat between them as if it, magically, would come up with the answer. When they had discovered, quite by accident, after a lot of failed detective work, that Ronon’s birthday was just a week away, it was decided that a party would be held; a traditional Earth-type birthday party with balloons, and streamers and gifts and…
“I could make a pie.” Teyla suggested. “I know where to find some delicious berries on the mainland.” John and Rodney both looked at her as if she had suggested that they start using hot air balloons instead of Jumpers. Teyla took in the looks and shrugged. “So what do you suggest?”
“Maybe we can order a cake from Earth?” John’s voice didn’t sound all that hopeful, but even that hope was killed when they realized how long that would take.
“Perhaps,” Teyla began slowly. “Perhaps we could trade for one.”
Rodney frowned. “I thought you said that the only civilization you knew that had cake was on MR9-642A, and that only the high whatever-they-are’s are allowed to have it.”
“The Delatans,” Teyla corrected. “And what I said is that only those who have proved themselves worthy may partake.”
“So how do we prove ourselves worthy?” John’s eyes narrowed. There was something in Teyla’s voice that made him think there was more to this than a simple bartering session.
A smile began to creep over Teyla’s face. “We need to bring the Delatans something that they prize.”
“Okay, I’ll play.” Rodney’s voice carried that tinge of exasperation that made everyone except his closest friends believe that he felt he had something better to do at any given minute than actually be with other human beings. “What is it that Delatans prize?”
“There is a gem.” Teyla began. “It is a very brilliant yellow. It is quite rare and considered extremely valuable. The gift of even a small one would bring us great esteem.”
“Great.” Rodney looked from Teyla to John. “So we just go get one of those.” He turned back to Teyla. “So where do we go to get one of those?”
The answer was said in a voice so quiet that both men were unsure they heard it correctly.
“Did you say…?” John was not only smiling, he was on the verge of laughing.
“No, no, no…. I will not go back there.” Rodney had backed away from the table, and stood so quickly that the chair he had been sitting on was now under the next table. “You don’t know what it was like.”
“Yeah, it must have been hell,” John’s voice took on a sarcastic tone. “I know I always hate it when a rich, beautiful woman throws herself at me.”
“A rich, beautiful and powerful woman.” Rodney corrected. “Let’s not forget the powerful. I mean she could have me killed, or worse, if I don’t, you know, come through.”
“Worse than being killed?” Teyla voiced confusion, but the corners of her mouth turned up as she struggled to keep from smiling.
Rodney either missed the smile, or chose to ignore it. “Oh, believe me. There are things far worse than death.”
John tilted his head in a show of curiosity. “Like, what, exactly?”
“Like…” Rodney stopped and a tinge of red crept into his face. “Well, lots of things, like… but, that’s not the point.” Rodney replaced his chair and sat back down with an air of dejection. “Besides, she didn’t want me so much as she wanted my DNA.”
“Right.” John agreed thoughtfully. “How did she say it? She wanted a smart kid to help rule the empire?”
Rodney puffed up a little. “Actually, I believe she said she needed an heir of supreme intelligence.”
“Yeah,” John said, sitting back. “I knew it was something like that.”
“It’s not like it was even going to be all that enjoyable, for me anyway.” Rodney seemed to be trying to recapture some dignity. He was failing, miserably.
“Oh, really, Rodney?” John leaned forward, all attention, except for his face, which was more about teasing. “Is there something you have decided to share with us?”
“No, it’s just that…” Rodney’s face jumped into surprised mode and then leaped right into indignation. “NO! That is most definitely NOT what I meant. I mean I’m sure I would have enjoyed it, but, she had these toys.”
“Toys?” John was no long feigning interest.
The red had now fully established itself in Rodney’s face. “They were more like implements really.” Rodney shook his head and the red disappeared as the scientist pushed away the embarrassed would-be consort. “They were gold and had imbedded gems.”
“Sounds painful.” John unconsciously crossed his legs, but then quickly uncrossed them when he saw Teyla’s amused look.
Rodney nodded his emphatic agreement. “You didn’t see the Milking Machine.”
Teyla eyes narrowed, and John’s eyes flew wide open as, in unison, they both said, “The Milking Machine?”
“Oh, I’m sure it had a very impressive name but, in essence, that is what it was… a milking machine.” Rodney shuddered slightly at the memory, but went on to describe the monstrosity anyway. “It had this tube that went… you know.” He gestured, vaguely, toward his pants to let them know just where the tube went. “And there were hoses that let water through to create a vacuum and a collection cup…and well, let’s just say, that no matter how pretty they try to make that thing, that was one ritual I was not going to go through.”
“I wonder,” Teyla was speaking slowly and both men took on a wary stance. It was obvious that the diplomat was working her way to something that might not be all that pleasant for some one at the table. “if we could not work out an alternative trade.”
“Oh no!” John’s hands went up in a defensive motion. “If you are thinking that I’m going to pinch hit for McKay, then you can just forget it.”
Teyla frowned. “I had in mind neither hitting nor pinching, but if you are asking if I am suggesting that you stand in for Dr. McKay, then no, that was not my idea.” She leaned forward and folded her hands on the table in front of her and raised an eyebrow. “There are other ways for the Priestess of Darlong to get her heir, are there not?”
“So what, exactly, are you getting at, Teyla?” Rodney was not at all sure he liked where he thought this was going.
“I think, perhaps, we may be able to trade a collection cup of our own for one of the gems.” Teyla paused, waiting for the men to grasp what she was suggesting, but men, can at times be dense, so she continued. “I do not believe you would need to use a milking machine to fill such a cup, would you Rodney?”
John looked more than amused.
Rodney looked more than embarrassed.
In the end, however, Ronon got his cake and a good time was had by all… even Rodney who declared it the best cake he ever bought.
“Wrong?”
Colonel John Sheppard looked at the plate that held what should have been chocolate goodness, and then at Rodney McKay, who held a similar plate and had an expression that held both bewilderment and disgust. “That’s not quite the word I was looking for, but it will do.” He put the plate down on the nearest table and backed away from it, slowly and quietly, as if it were a bomb ready to explode. “Teyla, are you sure you got the recipe right?”
Teyla Emmagen looked at the cake that sat in the middle of the cafeteria table and sighed. “I am quite sure I followed the directions Dr. Zelenka gave me exactly.”
“Maybe something got lost in the translation.” Sheppard suggested.
“Zelenka?” Rodney pushed his plate so that it was an arm’s length away, lest even a tiny bit of the foul concoction should find its way back to his mouth and his unsuspecting taste buds. “You got a recipe for chocolate cake from Zelenka?” He looked sadly at the plate, obviously considering whether a second bite might not be better. “What a waste of perfectly good chocolate.”
“Well, what do we do now?” The question came from Sheppard and the trio looked at the cake that sat between them as if it, magically, would come up with the answer. When they had discovered, quite by accident, after a lot of failed detective work, that Ronon’s birthday was just a week away, it was decided that a party would be held; a traditional Earth-type birthday party with balloons, and streamers and gifts and…
“I could make a pie.” Teyla suggested. “I know where to find some delicious berries on the mainland.” John and Rodney both looked at her as if she had suggested that they start using hot air balloons instead of Jumpers. Teyla took in the looks and shrugged. “So what do you suggest?”
“Maybe we can order a cake from Earth?” John’s voice didn’t sound all that hopeful, but even that hope was killed when they realized how long that would take.
“Perhaps,” Teyla began slowly. “Perhaps we could trade for one.”
Rodney frowned. “I thought you said that the only civilization you knew that had cake was on MR9-642A, and that only the high whatever-they-are’s are allowed to have it.”
“The Delatans,” Teyla corrected. “And what I said is that only those who have proved themselves worthy may partake.”
“So how do we prove ourselves worthy?” John’s eyes narrowed. There was something in Teyla’s voice that made him think there was more to this than a simple bartering session.
A smile began to creep over Teyla’s face. “We need to bring the Delatans something that they prize.”
“Okay, I’ll play.” Rodney’s voice carried that tinge of exasperation that made everyone except his closest friends believe that he felt he had something better to do at any given minute than actually be with other human beings. “What is it that Delatans prize?”
“There is a gem.” Teyla began. “It is a very brilliant yellow. It is quite rare and considered extremely valuable. The gift of even a small one would bring us great esteem.”
“Great.” Rodney looked from Teyla to John. “So we just go get one of those.” He turned back to Teyla. “So where do we go to get one of those?”
The answer was said in a voice so quiet that both men were unsure they heard it correctly.
“Did you say…?” John was not only smiling, he was on the verge of laughing.
“No, no, no…. I will not go back there.” Rodney had backed away from the table, and stood so quickly that the chair he had been sitting on was now under the next table. “You don’t know what it was like.”
“Yeah, it must have been hell,” John’s voice took on a sarcastic tone. “I know I always hate it when a rich, beautiful woman throws herself at me.”
“A rich, beautiful and powerful woman.” Rodney corrected. “Let’s not forget the powerful. I mean she could have me killed, or worse, if I don’t, you know, come through.”
“Worse than being killed?” Teyla voiced confusion, but the corners of her mouth turned up as she struggled to keep from smiling.
Rodney either missed the smile, or chose to ignore it. “Oh, believe me. There are things far worse than death.”
John tilted his head in a show of curiosity. “Like, what, exactly?”
“Like…” Rodney stopped and a tinge of red crept into his face. “Well, lots of things, like… but, that’s not the point.” Rodney replaced his chair and sat back down with an air of dejection. “Besides, she didn’t want me so much as she wanted my DNA.”
“Right.” John agreed thoughtfully. “How did she say it? She wanted a smart kid to help rule the empire?”
Rodney puffed up a little. “Actually, I believe she said she needed an heir of supreme intelligence.”
“Yeah,” John said, sitting back. “I knew it was something like that.”
“It’s not like it was even going to be all that enjoyable, for me anyway.” Rodney seemed to be trying to recapture some dignity. He was failing, miserably.
“Oh, really, Rodney?” John leaned forward, all attention, except for his face, which was more about teasing. “Is there something you have decided to share with us?”
“No, it’s just that…” Rodney’s face jumped into surprised mode and then leaped right into indignation. “NO! That is most definitely NOT what I meant. I mean I’m sure I would have enjoyed it, but, she had these toys.”
“Toys?” John was no long feigning interest.
The red had now fully established itself in Rodney’s face. “They were more like implements really.” Rodney shook his head and the red disappeared as the scientist pushed away the embarrassed would-be consort. “They were gold and had imbedded gems.”
“Sounds painful.” John unconsciously crossed his legs, but then quickly uncrossed them when he saw Teyla’s amused look.
Rodney nodded his emphatic agreement. “You didn’t see the Milking Machine.”
Teyla eyes narrowed, and John’s eyes flew wide open as, in unison, they both said, “The Milking Machine?”
“Oh, I’m sure it had a very impressive name but, in essence, that is what it was… a milking machine.” Rodney shuddered slightly at the memory, but went on to describe the monstrosity anyway. “It had this tube that went… you know.” He gestured, vaguely, toward his pants to let them know just where the tube went. “And there were hoses that let water through to create a vacuum and a collection cup…and well, let’s just say, that no matter how pretty they try to make that thing, that was one ritual I was not going to go through.”
“I wonder,” Teyla was speaking slowly and both men took on a wary stance. It was obvious that the diplomat was working her way to something that might not be all that pleasant for some one at the table. “if we could not work out an alternative trade.”
“Oh no!” John’s hands went up in a defensive motion. “If you are thinking that I’m going to pinch hit for McKay, then you can just forget it.”
Teyla frowned. “I had in mind neither hitting nor pinching, but if you are asking if I am suggesting that you stand in for Dr. McKay, then no, that was not my idea.” She leaned forward and folded her hands on the table in front of her and raised an eyebrow. “There are other ways for the Priestess of Darlong to get her heir, are there not?”
“So what, exactly, are you getting at, Teyla?” Rodney was not at all sure he liked where he thought this was going.
“I think, perhaps, we may be able to trade a collection cup of our own for one of the gems.” Teyla paused, waiting for the men to grasp what she was suggesting, but men, can at times be dense, so she continued. “I do not believe you would need to use a milking machine to fill such a cup, would you Rodney?”
John looked more than amused.
Rodney looked more than embarrassed.
In the end, however, Ronon got his cake and a good time was had by all… even Rodney who declared it the best cake he ever bought.