Found in Translation, by Audrey Lynne [Ancient History challenge]
Found in Translation
By Audrey Lynne
There were a number of amusing and often-bizarre rumors about the linguistics department floating around Atlantis. What most people failed to realize was that it was the linguists themselves who started those rumors. It didn't help their strange reputation any that the primary linguistics lab had a sign taped--actually taped--outside the door that read, "Linguistics Department, City of Atlantis. Enter With Caution. Anyone Bearing Jokes About Cunning Linguists Will Be Summarily Tongue-Lashed."
They certainly were an eclectic group of individuals. There had been eight of them when the Atlantis crew departed from Earth, but in the expedition's second month, Russell Hanson, the head of Linguistics, had been studying the temple ruins on M7J-849 when the Wraith had shown up unexpectedly. Dr. Hanson, sadly, didn't survive the encounter, and thus Miles Anderson had been promoted to department head--much to his dismay. He had always preferred words over other people; at least words made sense.
Rumor had it that Miles ruled the department with an iron fist. In actuality, he held a staff meeting once a week, assigned projects and due dates to his team, collected weekly reports, and then generally retreated to his office to work on his own translations. Nonetheless, the rumors persisted, generally because Andreas Schultze and Kevin Harris cheerfully insisted on spreading them. However, considering rumors also persisted about the amazing sexual prowess of Doctors Schultze and Harris, most rumors regarding anything having to do with Linguistics were probably best taken with a grain of salt. Or a full tablespoon.
For all the wackiness surrounding them, no one could argue with their results. Linguistics was actually one of the more productive departments in the science division, which many attributed to the fact that Rodney McKay generally left them the hell alone, unless he needed to borrow one of them for a translation. Rodney found Miles to be more than a little odd, so he shied away from the department when he didn't actively need their services. They were fine with that, as nearly all of them preferred to use Radek Zelenka as their contact among the hard sciences. That wasn't uncommon, since if Radek did consider the soft sciences unscientific, he kept the opinion to himself. However, the linguists had a few other reasons to make Radek their primary geek on call.
There had been an accident in the labs in the mission's early weeks, and Radek had landed in the infirmary with a head injury and a lot of pain medication on board. Speaking English had been too much mental work for him, and while Radek's assistant did speak Czech, she was tied up with the aftermath. Miles, however, specialized in the Slavic language set, and spoke fluent Czech. He'd come up to the infirmary to translate, and despite his lack of social graces, a friendship had been born that evening. Radek liked the linguists, they liked him, and he was one of the few people other than them who had managed to get through to the department's reclusive leader.
It was a typical day in the labs when Radek strolled in, handing the laptop he carried to Susan Walker, who smiled at him gratefully. "It should be working now, Dr. Walker; it was only a minor short in the power supply."
"Thank you." Susan flipped the laptop open, powering it up immediately. "I've been sharing with Jeanne Pelletier for two days now, and it's impossible for two people to be nearly as productive with one computer. Besides, everything's in French."
Jeanne snorted from across the table. "I'm French; what do you expect? You speak the language...at least better than Dr. McKay. Quel âne."
Susan shrugged. "What do you expect? He speaks Canadian French."
Jeanne only muttered something under her breath in response. Radek couldn't have sworn to it, but he thought he caught something about "ghetto French." He didn't bother pursuing it, though, as he turned to Susan. "You could have told me you needed to borrow a computer until yours was fixed. We have spares."
Susan waved a hand dismissively. "No worries, Doc. I didn't mind sharing for a bit. I'm just glad to get my own computer back. It's cozy; everything's right where I like it. Thanks again."
That, Radek couldn't argue with. "I understand." He wandered over to one of the other tables, where Andreas was comparing photographs of the gate room stairs to the transcription on his tablet PC. "Still translating the writings on the staircase?"
Andreas rolled his eyes. "So we're having a slow period. Don't get too excited; if you're looking for the key to ascension; this is not it. Mostly historical references. The Battle of Kollahasterus, where many Wraith were defeated. The Battle of Hathetorash, where the Wraith kicked Ancient ass. The Battle of I Don't Fucking Care Anymore, so why did I volunteer for this bullshit?"
Radek laughed. "At least there are a limited number of stairs with actual inscriptions on them." He'd rather hoped for gate addresses of planets with ZPMs, but that would have been too easy. "C'est la vie, as they say." He'd deliberately thrown that in there to get Jeanne's attention, but she didn't seem to have noticed.
"Hey, hey," Andreas warned, completely deadpan, "this is a German you're winging that French at. Kann ich Ihre Tür haben?"
Radek blinked, convinced he must've heard that wrong. Despite his Czech heritage, his German wasn't that strong. Of course, Andreas had figured that out quickly and loved to poke at Radek every now and then because of it. "Can you have my...door?"
Andreas laughed, and the near-cackle quality it took on suggested to Radek his initial translation had been accurate. "You're catching on. I liked it a lot better before, though, when you used to look baffled for longer."
Across the room, Thomas St. Julian rolled his eyes. "Andy, play nice with Dr. Z, will you? We need at least one person on that side of the fence who likes us."
Radek smiled. "Quite all right, really. I like coming down here. It is a welcome break from the ranting and screaming in my own labs."
Susan looked up over her laptop screen. "Don't let these boys and their crooked halos fool you," she advised. "We do our share of ranting and shouting from time to time, too."
Radek inclined his head in her direction. "I'm sure--but at least here it is not directed at me." He grinned and headed for Miles' office, waving at the others. Radek knocked on the door.
"Come in," Miles called. He looked up from his desk, brown eyes curious behind his glasses, as Radek entered. "Oh. Zelenka." He almost smiled.
"Hello, Miles." Radek crossed over to the desk, leaning against the side of it. Some would have been put off by Miles' almost detached behavior, but Radek had long ago learned that Miles genuinely had little grasp on the social aspect of life. An overlooked middle child, the "weird" kid no one took the time to get to know...they had all combined to create an adult who genuinely didn't know much about how to interact with other people. There might have been more going on--Radek wondered at times, if perhaps Miles might have a genuine condition--but Miles was trying with him, at least, and that counted for a lot. "I came by to drop off Dr. Walker's laptop."
Miles nodded. "Good. I'm glad she has it back. Is there anything I should know about?"
"How so?" Radek asked.
"You came here to drop off a laptop, but you also came in to see me." Miles frowned a little. "I wondered if there was something important."
"I always come in to see you," Radek pointed out. "That's important enough for me." Fortunately, Miles' office had no windows, so he moved forward, closer to the man, but not touching him quite yet. If asked, Radek couldn't have said what drew him to Miles; their friendship had started out with a common language but had quickly grown to more. Radek had found himself sharing things with Miles he couldn't tell his other friends in English. The words, he knew, but the events had so much emotion attached to them, he could only feel comfortable relaying them in his native tongue, when he was sure of each word's nuances.
Miles, in turn, had been trying his hardest to do, as he'd put it, "whatever it is as your friend I'm supposed to do." He was better at it than he gave himself credit for, and in time, their relationship had moved beyond friendship. It was their secret, for now, something that was their business and theirs alone. Maybe in time, they'd let others know, but for now, Radek only smiled and went back to he was doing when Rodney badgered him about the time he spent with "that weirdo Anderson." As if Rodney had any room to talk about being less than socially adept.
"Schultze has been coming along with the stair translations," Miles offered. "Unfortunately, the ZPM addresses you hoped for don't appear to have materialized."
Radek shrugged, a bit ruefully. "I know. He mentioned it to me. Ancient history, it seems. Long ago battles that don't help us at all."
Miles nodded. "His reports have said as much." He eyed Radek, who was standing beside his chair now. "Did you need something from me?"
Radek smiled, turning the arm of Miles' chair until the man faced him. "Not right now. Let me ask you, though, what do you need?" It was an old game between them, in two steps, a tool they had both learned to help them communicate, no matter what the language they used.
Miles blinked, appearing to consider it. "Nothing I can immediately think of."
Radek moved in closer, hovering just above him, not touching yet. "Then tell me, Miles," he said, switching to Czech, "what do you want?"
Miles was silent for a few moments. Then, after a look around, as if to confirm no windows had magically appeared in his office in the last couple of minutes, he smiled. A real, genuine smile--the kind Radek had to work for, but it was always worth it. "Polib me," he said. Kiss me.
"Gladly." Radek bent down, brushing a kiss across Miles' lips, letting it linger--all they would risk in a potentially public venue.
Miles reached up, touching Radek's face, just for a moment. "Mine," he breathed, returning the butterfly-light kiss, another little tradition of theirs. They'd continue this later, tonight, in the privacy of Radek's quarters, but for now, this would do.
Radek regarded Miles fondly as he stood up again. "How did we ever get here from there?"
Miles thought for a moment. "As I recall, it involved your injury, pain medication, and your propensity for sharing deep secrets with strangers when you think no one else can understand. First, you told me about your military service, and--" He trailed off, suddenly getting it. "That...isn't what you meant?"
"Not exactly," Radek admitted with a chuckle, "but you're learning. And perhaps you're not that far off. Maybe I sensed something in you that compelled me to bring up my own brand of ancient history. What do you think?"
"I think," Miles said slowly, "that you are seriously overthinking the situation. Or giving me too much credit. Maybe both."
At least Miles was honest. Radek chuckled. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Milos." It was his pet name for him, the closest-sounding Czech name Radek had been able to think of when longing for a diminutive form of Miles, something only Radek would call him.
Miles looked vaguely doubtful. "If you say so."
"I do." With that, Radek turned to leave the office. "I'll see you tonight." He headed out as Miles returned to his work, stopping by Andreas on his way to the door. He had a lot of fun with these guys, even if he had an entirely different kind of fun with their boss. "I've given this some thought, and...yes, you can have the door. I do not use it nearly as often as I thought I would."
Some would have fumbled for a moment before remembering, but not Andreas. He grinned right back up at Radek. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Zlinky." Ever since Rodney had called Radek than in attempt number five hundred and seventy three to actually remember Radek's name, Andreas had delighted in using it as a nickname. "Good people, the Czechs."
"Damn right." Radek saw no reason to defer national pride.
"Yeah...sorry about that whole, you know, invasion thing." Andreas flashed him a look of mock sheepishness. "That was really kind of a stupid move on our part."
"That's the Germans for you," Kevin Harris called out from nearby, laughter thickening his British accent a touch more than usual. "You go in, take a bunch of countries, throw a world war or two, lose them all, do the whole thing over...."
"Thank you, Eddie Izzard," Andreas shot back.
Kevin rolled his eyes. "I look nothing like him."
"Of course not." Andreas was in fine form now. "And I bet you wouldn't wear women's clothing if we gave you the chance, either. I'm sure Jeanne has some lovely dresses you can borrow. Not like she wears them all that often."
Radek shook his head, deciding to retreat while his chances were still good. "I will see you all later. Good luck with those stairs."
"Oh, yes." Andreas sighed dramatically. "The Battle of Kiss My Ass awaits."
"Really, wouldn't battles be more about ass-kicking?" Thomas asked.
"Oh, now don't you start too," Susan chided teasingly.
Their conversation faded into the background as Radek headed into the hallway, smiling. It was a welcome reprieve from the chaos that awaited him when he got back to the engineering labs, much as he might have thrived on that. He'd have to talk to Claire Dumais and see if she felt the same about Rodney's "ghetto French" or if it was just Jeanne. Because, if so, that could be some handy ammunition to use in an argument with Rodney sometime....
The End
By Audrey Lynne
There were a number of amusing and often-bizarre rumors about the linguistics department floating around Atlantis. What most people failed to realize was that it was the linguists themselves who started those rumors. It didn't help their strange reputation any that the primary linguistics lab had a sign taped--actually taped--outside the door that read, "Linguistics Department, City of Atlantis. Enter With Caution. Anyone Bearing Jokes About Cunning Linguists Will Be Summarily Tongue-Lashed."
They certainly were an eclectic group of individuals. There had been eight of them when the Atlantis crew departed from Earth, but in the expedition's second month, Russell Hanson, the head of Linguistics, had been studying the temple ruins on M7J-849 when the Wraith had shown up unexpectedly. Dr. Hanson, sadly, didn't survive the encounter, and thus Miles Anderson had been promoted to department head--much to his dismay. He had always preferred words over other people; at least words made sense.
Rumor had it that Miles ruled the department with an iron fist. In actuality, he held a staff meeting once a week, assigned projects and due dates to his team, collected weekly reports, and then generally retreated to his office to work on his own translations. Nonetheless, the rumors persisted, generally because Andreas Schultze and Kevin Harris cheerfully insisted on spreading them. However, considering rumors also persisted about the amazing sexual prowess of Doctors Schultze and Harris, most rumors regarding anything having to do with Linguistics were probably best taken with a grain of salt. Or a full tablespoon.
For all the wackiness surrounding them, no one could argue with their results. Linguistics was actually one of the more productive departments in the science division, which many attributed to the fact that Rodney McKay generally left them the hell alone, unless he needed to borrow one of them for a translation. Rodney found Miles to be more than a little odd, so he shied away from the department when he didn't actively need their services. They were fine with that, as nearly all of them preferred to use Radek Zelenka as their contact among the hard sciences. That wasn't uncommon, since if Radek did consider the soft sciences unscientific, he kept the opinion to himself. However, the linguists had a few other reasons to make Radek their primary geek on call.
There had been an accident in the labs in the mission's early weeks, and Radek had landed in the infirmary with a head injury and a lot of pain medication on board. Speaking English had been too much mental work for him, and while Radek's assistant did speak Czech, she was tied up with the aftermath. Miles, however, specialized in the Slavic language set, and spoke fluent Czech. He'd come up to the infirmary to translate, and despite his lack of social graces, a friendship had been born that evening. Radek liked the linguists, they liked him, and he was one of the few people other than them who had managed to get through to the department's reclusive leader.
It was a typical day in the labs when Radek strolled in, handing the laptop he carried to Susan Walker, who smiled at him gratefully. "It should be working now, Dr. Walker; it was only a minor short in the power supply."
"Thank you." Susan flipped the laptop open, powering it up immediately. "I've been sharing with Jeanne Pelletier for two days now, and it's impossible for two people to be nearly as productive with one computer. Besides, everything's in French."
Jeanne snorted from across the table. "I'm French; what do you expect? You speak the language...at least better than Dr. McKay. Quel âne."
Susan shrugged. "What do you expect? He speaks Canadian French."
Jeanne only muttered something under her breath in response. Radek couldn't have sworn to it, but he thought he caught something about "ghetto French." He didn't bother pursuing it, though, as he turned to Susan. "You could have told me you needed to borrow a computer until yours was fixed. We have spares."
Susan waved a hand dismissively. "No worries, Doc. I didn't mind sharing for a bit. I'm just glad to get my own computer back. It's cozy; everything's right where I like it. Thanks again."
That, Radek couldn't argue with. "I understand." He wandered over to one of the other tables, where Andreas was comparing photographs of the gate room stairs to the transcription on his tablet PC. "Still translating the writings on the staircase?"
Andreas rolled his eyes. "So we're having a slow period. Don't get too excited; if you're looking for the key to ascension; this is not it. Mostly historical references. The Battle of Kollahasterus, where many Wraith were defeated. The Battle of Hathetorash, where the Wraith kicked Ancient ass. The Battle of I Don't Fucking Care Anymore, so why did I volunteer for this bullshit?"
Radek laughed. "At least there are a limited number of stairs with actual inscriptions on them." He'd rather hoped for gate addresses of planets with ZPMs, but that would have been too easy. "C'est la vie, as they say." He'd deliberately thrown that in there to get Jeanne's attention, but she didn't seem to have noticed.
"Hey, hey," Andreas warned, completely deadpan, "this is a German you're winging that French at. Kann ich Ihre Tür haben?"
Radek blinked, convinced he must've heard that wrong. Despite his Czech heritage, his German wasn't that strong. Of course, Andreas had figured that out quickly and loved to poke at Radek every now and then because of it. "Can you have my...door?"
Andreas laughed, and the near-cackle quality it took on suggested to Radek his initial translation had been accurate. "You're catching on. I liked it a lot better before, though, when you used to look baffled for longer."
Across the room, Thomas St. Julian rolled his eyes. "Andy, play nice with Dr. Z, will you? We need at least one person on that side of the fence who likes us."
Radek smiled. "Quite all right, really. I like coming down here. It is a welcome break from the ranting and screaming in my own labs."
Susan looked up over her laptop screen. "Don't let these boys and their crooked halos fool you," she advised. "We do our share of ranting and shouting from time to time, too."
Radek inclined his head in her direction. "I'm sure--but at least here it is not directed at me." He grinned and headed for Miles' office, waving at the others. Radek knocked on the door.
"Come in," Miles called. He looked up from his desk, brown eyes curious behind his glasses, as Radek entered. "Oh. Zelenka." He almost smiled.
"Hello, Miles." Radek crossed over to the desk, leaning against the side of it. Some would have been put off by Miles' almost detached behavior, but Radek had long ago learned that Miles genuinely had little grasp on the social aspect of life. An overlooked middle child, the "weird" kid no one took the time to get to know...they had all combined to create an adult who genuinely didn't know much about how to interact with other people. There might have been more going on--Radek wondered at times, if perhaps Miles might have a genuine condition--but Miles was trying with him, at least, and that counted for a lot. "I came by to drop off Dr. Walker's laptop."
Miles nodded. "Good. I'm glad she has it back. Is there anything I should know about?"
"How so?" Radek asked.
"You came here to drop off a laptop, but you also came in to see me." Miles frowned a little. "I wondered if there was something important."
"I always come in to see you," Radek pointed out. "That's important enough for me." Fortunately, Miles' office had no windows, so he moved forward, closer to the man, but not touching him quite yet. If asked, Radek couldn't have said what drew him to Miles; their friendship had started out with a common language but had quickly grown to more. Radek had found himself sharing things with Miles he couldn't tell his other friends in English. The words, he knew, but the events had so much emotion attached to them, he could only feel comfortable relaying them in his native tongue, when he was sure of each word's nuances.
Miles, in turn, had been trying his hardest to do, as he'd put it, "whatever it is as your friend I'm supposed to do." He was better at it than he gave himself credit for, and in time, their relationship had moved beyond friendship. It was their secret, for now, something that was their business and theirs alone. Maybe in time, they'd let others know, but for now, Radek only smiled and went back to he was doing when Rodney badgered him about the time he spent with "that weirdo Anderson." As if Rodney had any room to talk about being less than socially adept.
"Schultze has been coming along with the stair translations," Miles offered. "Unfortunately, the ZPM addresses you hoped for don't appear to have materialized."
Radek shrugged, a bit ruefully. "I know. He mentioned it to me. Ancient history, it seems. Long ago battles that don't help us at all."
Miles nodded. "His reports have said as much." He eyed Radek, who was standing beside his chair now. "Did you need something from me?"
Radek smiled, turning the arm of Miles' chair until the man faced him. "Not right now. Let me ask you, though, what do you need?" It was an old game between them, in two steps, a tool they had both learned to help them communicate, no matter what the language they used.
Miles blinked, appearing to consider it. "Nothing I can immediately think of."
Radek moved in closer, hovering just above him, not touching yet. "Then tell me, Miles," he said, switching to Czech, "what do you want?"
Miles was silent for a few moments. Then, after a look around, as if to confirm no windows had magically appeared in his office in the last couple of minutes, he smiled. A real, genuine smile--the kind Radek had to work for, but it was always worth it. "Polib me," he said. Kiss me.
"Gladly." Radek bent down, brushing a kiss across Miles' lips, letting it linger--all they would risk in a potentially public venue.
Miles reached up, touching Radek's face, just for a moment. "Mine," he breathed, returning the butterfly-light kiss, another little tradition of theirs. They'd continue this later, tonight, in the privacy of Radek's quarters, but for now, this would do.
Radek regarded Miles fondly as he stood up again. "How did we ever get here from there?"
Miles thought for a moment. "As I recall, it involved your injury, pain medication, and your propensity for sharing deep secrets with strangers when you think no one else can understand. First, you told me about your military service, and--" He trailed off, suddenly getting it. "That...isn't what you meant?"
"Not exactly," Radek admitted with a chuckle, "but you're learning. And perhaps you're not that far off. Maybe I sensed something in you that compelled me to bring up my own brand of ancient history. What do you think?"
"I think," Miles said slowly, "that you are seriously overthinking the situation. Or giving me too much credit. Maybe both."
At least Miles was honest. Radek chuckled. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Milos." It was his pet name for him, the closest-sounding Czech name Radek had been able to think of when longing for a diminutive form of Miles, something only Radek would call him.
Miles looked vaguely doubtful. "If you say so."
"I do." With that, Radek turned to leave the office. "I'll see you tonight." He headed out as Miles returned to his work, stopping by Andreas on his way to the door. He had a lot of fun with these guys, even if he had an entirely different kind of fun with their boss. "I've given this some thought, and...yes, you can have the door. I do not use it nearly as often as I thought I would."
Some would have fumbled for a moment before remembering, but not Andreas. He grinned right back up at Radek. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Zlinky." Ever since Rodney had called Radek than in attempt number five hundred and seventy three to actually remember Radek's name, Andreas had delighted in using it as a nickname. "Good people, the Czechs."
"Damn right." Radek saw no reason to defer national pride.
"Yeah...sorry about that whole, you know, invasion thing." Andreas flashed him a look of mock sheepishness. "That was really kind of a stupid move on our part."
"That's the Germans for you," Kevin Harris called out from nearby, laughter thickening his British accent a touch more than usual. "You go in, take a bunch of countries, throw a world war or two, lose them all, do the whole thing over...."
"Thank you, Eddie Izzard," Andreas shot back.
Kevin rolled his eyes. "I look nothing like him."
"Of course not." Andreas was in fine form now. "And I bet you wouldn't wear women's clothing if we gave you the chance, either. I'm sure Jeanne has some lovely dresses you can borrow. Not like she wears them all that often."
Radek shook his head, deciding to retreat while his chances were still good. "I will see you all later. Good luck with those stairs."
"Oh, yes." Andreas sighed dramatically. "The Battle of Kiss My Ass awaits."
"Really, wouldn't battles be more about ass-kicking?" Thomas asked.
"Oh, now don't you start too," Susan chided teasingly.
Their conversation faded into the background as Radek headed into the hallway, smiling. It was a welcome reprieve from the chaos that awaited him when he got back to the engineering labs, much as he might have thrived on that. He'd have to talk to Claire Dumais and see if she felt the same about Rodney's "ghetto French" or if it was just Jeanne. Because, if so, that could be some handy ammunition to use in an argument with Rodney sometime....
The End