Fic: Blue Bird of Friendliness by julietink (AMTDI challenge)
Title: Blue Bird of Friendliness
Rating: PG, gen
Character: Team
Word count: 1580
Warning: fluffy borderline-crack. But hey, it was fun to write!
A/N: un-betaed (please let me know of any horrors); concrit encouraged.
Summary: Teyla didn't quite roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. "You must sing something, John."
It wasn't that John didn't pay attention. He paid a lot of attention. He just didn't always pay attention to the words that were being said. He concentrated on the important stuff. So while Teyla talked about "ceremony" and "cultural sharing", what John heard was the unfeigned pleasure in her tone. When Gean, one of the leaders of the Peanti, invited them to join him in the main hall, he heard the genuine hospitality and welcome in his voice. And while Teyla talked to Gean and Denda, nodding happily, what John saw was how relaxed Teyla was, and the lack of any signs of mistrust or dislike of the Lanteans from the Peanti.
"Of course," he said, "a ceremony," and followed Teyla, with Rodney and Ronon behind him, into a big hall where -- hey, at least there looked like there was a lot of food.
He wasn't particularly surprised when, after the second course and the second round of local fruit wine, Gean, without any announcement, stood up and started singing. In the corner of the hall, a couple of musicians started up an accompaniment. There was always something that happened along with the food, and as ceremonies went, listening to a bit of singing was well within the realm of the acceptable. Gean even had quite a nice voice. John sat back in his chair, cast another glance round the hall to check that all was still well, and had another sip of the really rather good fruit wine.
Denda didn't have quite such a good voice, unfortunately. But the couple of people after her were reasonable enough, and John was starting to enjoy himself.
He really shouldn't have been surprised when the woman next to Teyla sat down after a particularly rousing battle-song, and everyone turned to look at him.
"It is your turn now, John," Teyla prompted.
"What?" John hissed at her.
Teyla didn't quite roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. "You must sing something, John."
"I'm sure you'll do just fine, Colonel," Rodney put in cheerfully from his other side. John glared at him and started to plan an attack on the pudding supplies when they got back to Atlantis.
"Can't you do it?" John asked Teyla. He wasn't whining. It would be beneath the dignity of the military leader of Atlantis to whine.
"It will be my turn after you," Teyla said. "We will all sing."
The smirk fell off Rodney's face. "What?" he said. Hah, John thought vindictively.
"It would not really be a cultural sharing otherwise, would it?" Teyla said reprovingly.
"Excuse me, have you met me? I don't share!" Rodney said. Teyla narrowed her eyes at him. "The Man in Black there can share for all of us!" he added.
John managed not to stick his tongue out at Rodney. That would almost certainly also be beneath the dignity of the military commander of Atlantis. Beyond Teyla, the Peanti were beginning to look concerned.
"The Colonel merely wishes to consult us on what to sing," Teyla turned to reassure them, and they all looked relieved and sat back expectantly. "We will all sing," she said firmly. "John, any song of your people will do. Perhaps the person who is on your wall?"
The Peanti were still looking expectant. Discarding the idea of running away immediately -- he was beginning to really dislike the dignity of the military commander of Atlantis -- John took another big slug from his glass, rose to his feet, and attempted to smile.
"Okay, well, here's something from Earth for you," he said, and started out, "I hear the train a'coming, It's rollin' 'round the bend, And I ain't seen the sunshine, Since I don't know when..."
By the end of the first verse, the musicians had managed to pick up the chords, which helped a lot with keeping somewhere near the tune, and he only had to make up a couple of the words. The Peanti applauded with genuine appreciation as he sat down, and he covered his surprised pleasure by gulping some more of the fruit wine. Singing was thirsty business.
Next to him, Rodney was muttering to himself and making notes on his tablet, with a slightly panicked look. Teyla rose gracefully and launched into one of the Athosian folk-songs that John was already familiar with from numerous gatherings on the mainland -- apparently the musicians, too, already knew it.
Ronon, rather to John's surprise, went for a romantic ballad. At least, it started off romantic -- by the end, it was very definitely suggestive, and John didn't quite know where to look. There was a lot of giggling from various women -- and a couple of men -- in the hall, and when Ronon sat back down, Teyla was looking at him slightly speculatively.
"That was very good," was all she said, and Ronon grinned and raised his glass to her.
"Your turn, McKay," he said to Rodney, who scowled and stood up.
John recognised the language he was singing -- German -- but not the song. It turned out that Rodney had quite a good voice, if not as deep and rich as Ronon's, and he sat down looking pleased and slightly flustered when the assembled Peanti cheered him. Denda raised her glass to them all from the end of the table, and the woman next to Rodney stood up to do her bit.
It was after that that things really started to get out of hand. It turned out that after the top table had all sung something, the formal part of the ceremony was over, and anyone who wanted could take a turn.
"Pegasus karaoke," Rodney said in an attempt at a disparaging tone, but John could see his mouth turning up at the corner. It was pretty hard not to enjoy it, in fact, with the enthusiasm the Peanti were showing. Especially as the Lanteans were much in demand. And, okay, the fruit wine might be helping. John took another thoughtful gulp, and realised that he'd emptied his glass again.
John refused to sing again -- he didn't think that "A Boy Named Sue" would travel well, culturally speaking -- but Rodney spent fifteen minutes hunched over a tablet and muttering frantically to himself, and then sang a Gilbert and Sullivan patter song, to roars of applause.
Ronon, after quite a lot more fruit wine, sang a Satedan drinking song that once again had John's ears burning. Teyla smiled sweetly, and replied with an even worse Athosian one, and John nearly choked on his drink.
"Come on, Sheppard, your turn," Ronon said, and John had to assure him that he didn't know anything of the sort. Which was of course a blatant lie -- he had been through basic. So when Ronon started on "Eskimo Nell" (he was clearly spending too much time with the Marines), and Teyla joined in (John hadn't known that Teyla spent any time with the Marines; maybe she just picked these things up by some bizarre form of cultural-filth osmosis, and really, Teyla?), John had to join in too out of self-preservation. He was supposed to be the team leader here, after all. Rodney ostentatiously rolled his eyes at all three of them, but John definitely caught him trying not to laugh at some of the filthiest bits. Hah.
An hour or so later, Rodney and John were belting through "Birdhouse In Your Soul". Apparently they both had a secret fondness for They Might Be Giants; who knew? The Peanti were enthusiastic enough to insist on a second rendition so they could learn it.
"BLUE CANARY IN THE OUTLET BY THE LIGHTSWITCH," or something close to it, a hallful of Peanti bellowed.
John was pretty certain that none of the Peanti had the faintest idea what a lightswitch was, or probably even a canary but hey, they were really giving it some, and wow, was that Rodney dancing? Well. Kind of.
Possibly, he concluded, it was time to leave.
Teyla, despite having sunk a deeply alarming quantity of fruit wine -- Teyla didn't drink often, but when she did, she could really put it away -- made their farewells to Gean and Denda far more competently than John himself would have been able to at this point. Some people, he thought blurrily, might consider the big hugs and declarations of eternal friendship to be overkill, but hey, really, the Peanti were pretty damn nice people.
As Teyla hugged Gean again, and Rodney tripped over his own feet on the way to the door and reacted only by giggling rather than by declaring his ankle to be sprained or possibly broken, John made a mental note to bring plenty of ibuprofen to breakfast the next morning. If there was any left once he was done with it himself.
Conveniently, the Gate was too close to the village to get lost more than once. Well, okay, twice. But it really didn't take them all that much longer than usual to find the DHD, considering. They finally stumbled through the Gate, giggling, and staggered to a halt in the Gateroom in front of a slightly startled-looking Elizabeth.
"I'm going forth to the frozen North," Teyla sang, and fell over. Ronon caught her just in time.
"Kept the beaches ship-wreck-free!" Rodney sang a bit louder, possibly to drown out Teyla.
"Elizabeth!" John said happily, as she gave him her best dubiously-raised-eyebrow. "We need to think about the diplomatic possibilities of karaoke."
Rating: PG, gen
Character: Team
Word count: 1580
Warning: fluffy borderline-crack. But hey, it was fun to write!
A/N: un-betaed (please let me know of any horrors); concrit encouraged.
Summary: Teyla didn't quite roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. "You must sing something, John."
It wasn't that John didn't pay attention. He paid a lot of attention. He just didn't always pay attention to the words that were being said. He concentrated on the important stuff. So while Teyla talked about "ceremony" and "cultural sharing", what John heard was the unfeigned pleasure in her tone. When Gean, one of the leaders of the Peanti, invited them to join him in the main hall, he heard the genuine hospitality and welcome in his voice. And while Teyla talked to Gean and Denda, nodding happily, what John saw was how relaxed Teyla was, and the lack of any signs of mistrust or dislike of the Lanteans from the Peanti.
"Of course," he said, "a ceremony," and followed Teyla, with Rodney and Ronon behind him, into a big hall where -- hey, at least there looked like there was a lot of food.
He wasn't particularly surprised when, after the second course and the second round of local fruit wine, Gean, without any announcement, stood up and started singing. In the corner of the hall, a couple of musicians started up an accompaniment. There was always something that happened along with the food, and as ceremonies went, listening to a bit of singing was well within the realm of the acceptable. Gean even had quite a nice voice. John sat back in his chair, cast another glance round the hall to check that all was still well, and had another sip of the really rather good fruit wine.
Denda didn't have quite such a good voice, unfortunately. But the couple of people after her were reasonable enough, and John was starting to enjoy himself.
He really shouldn't have been surprised when the woman next to Teyla sat down after a particularly rousing battle-song, and everyone turned to look at him.
"It is your turn now, John," Teyla prompted.
"What?" John hissed at her.
Teyla didn't quite roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. "You must sing something, John."
"I'm sure you'll do just fine, Colonel," Rodney put in cheerfully from his other side. John glared at him and started to plan an attack on the pudding supplies when they got back to Atlantis.
"Can't you do it?" John asked Teyla. He wasn't whining. It would be beneath the dignity of the military leader of Atlantis to whine.
"It will be my turn after you," Teyla said. "We will all sing."
The smirk fell off Rodney's face. "What?" he said. Hah, John thought vindictively.
"It would not really be a cultural sharing otherwise, would it?" Teyla said reprovingly.
"Excuse me, have you met me? I don't share!" Rodney said. Teyla narrowed her eyes at him. "The Man in Black there can share for all of us!" he added.
John managed not to stick his tongue out at Rodney. That would almost certainly also be beneath the dignity of the military commander of Atlantis. Beyond Teyla, the Peanti were beginning to look concerned.
"The Colonel merely wishes to consult us on what to sing," Teyla turned to reassure them, and they all looked relieved and sat back expectantly. "We will all sing," she said firmly. "John, any song of your people will do. Perhaps the person who is on your wall?"
The Peanti were still looking expectant. Discarding the idea of running away immediately -- he was beginning to really dislike the dignity of the military commander of Atlantis -- John took another big slug from his glass, rose to his feet, and attempted to smile.
"Okay, well, here's something from Earth for you," he said, and started out, "I hear the train a'coming, It's rollin' 'round the bend, And I ain't seen the sunshine, Since I don't know when..."
By the end of the first verse, the musicians had managed to pick up the chords, which helped a lot with keeping somewhere near the tune, and he only had to make up a couple of the words. The Peanti applauded with genuine appreciation as he sat down, and he covered his surprised pleasure by gulping some more of the fruit wine. Singing was thirsty business.
Next to him, Rodney was muttering to himself and making notes on his tablet, with a slightly panicked look. Teyla rose gracefully and launched into one of the Athosian folk-songs that John was already familiar with from numerous gatherings on the mainland -- apparently the musicians, too, already knew it.
Ronon, rather to John's surprise, went for a romantic ballad. At least, it started off romantic -- by the end, it was very definitely suggestive, and John didn't quite know where to look. There was a lot of giggling from various women -- and a couple of men -- in the hall, and when Ronon sat back down, Teyla was looking at him slightly speculatively.
"That was very good," was all she said, and Ronon grinned and raised his glass to her.
"Your turn, McKay," he said to Rodney, who scowled and stood up.
John recognised the language he was singing -- German -- but not the song. It turned out that Rodney had quite a good voice, if not as deep and rich as Ronon's, and he sat down looking pleased and slightly flustered when the assembled Peanti cheered him. Denda raised her glass to them all from the end of the table, and the woman next to Rodney stood up to do her bit.
It was after that that things really started to get out of hand. It turned out that after the top table had all sung something, the formal part of the ceremony was over, and anyone who wanted could take a turn.
"Pegasus karaoke," Rodney said in an attempt at a disparaging tone, but John could see his mouth turning up at the corner. It was pretty hard not to enjoy it, in fact, with the enthusiasm the Peanti were showing. Especially as the Lanteans were much in demand. And, okay, the fruit wine might be helping. John took another thoughtful gulp, and realised that he'd emptied his glass again.
John refused to sing again -- he didn't think that "A Boy Named Sue" would travel well, culturally speaking -- but Rodney spent fifteen minutes hunched over a tablet and muttering frantically to himself, and then sang a Gilbert and Sullivan patter song, to roars of applause.
Ronon, after quite a lot more fruit wine, sang a Satedan drinking song that once again had John's ears burning. Teyla smiled sweetly, and replied with an even worse Athosian one, and John nearly choked on his drink.
"Come on, Sheppard, your turn," Ronon said, and John had to assure him that he didn't know anything of the sort. Which was of course a blatant lie -- he had been through basic. So when Ronon started on "Eskimo Nell" (he was clearly spending too much time with the Marines), and Teyla joined in (John hadn't known that Teyla spent any time with the Marines; maybe she just picked these things up by some bizarre form of cultural-filth osmosis, and really, Teyla?), John had to join in too out of self-preservation. He was supposed to be the team leader here, after all. Rodney ostentatiously rolled his eyes at all three of them, but John definitely caught him trying not to laugh at some of the filthiest bits. Hah.
An hour or so later, Rodney and John were belting through "Birdhouse In Your Soul". Apparently they both had a secret fondness for They Might Be Giants; who knew? The Peanti were enthusiastic enough to insist on a second rendition so they could learn it.
"BLUE CANARY IN THE OUTLET BY THE LIGHTSWITCH," or something close to it, a hallful of Peanti bellowed.
John was pretty certain that none of the Peanti had the faintest idea what a lightswitch was, or probably even a canary but hey, they were really giving it some, and wow, was that Rodney dancing? Well. Kind of.
Possibly, he concluded, it was time to leave.
Teyla, despite having sunk a deeply alarming quantity of fruit wine -- Teyla didn't drink often, but when she did, she could really put it away -- made their farewells to Gean and Denda far more competently than John himself would have been able to at this point. Some people, he thought blurrily, might consider the big hugs and declarations of eternal friendship to be overkill, but hey, really, the Peanti were pretty damn nice people.
As Teyla hugged Gean again, and Rodney tripped over his own feet on the way to the door and reacted only by giggling rather than by declaring his ankle to be sprained or possibly broken, John made a mental note to bring plenty of ibuprofen to breakfast the next morning. If there was any left once he was done with it himself.
Conveniently, the Gate was too close to the village to get lost more than once. Well, okay, twice. But it really didn't take them all that much longer than usual to find the DHD, considering. They finally stumbled through the Gate, giggling, and staggered to a halt in the Gateroom in front of a slightly startled-looking Elizabeth.
"I'm going forth to the frozen North," Teyla sang, and fell over. Ronon caught her just in time.
"Kept the beaches ship-wreck-free!" Rodney sang a bit louder, possibly to drown out Teyla.
"Elizabeth!" John said happily, as she gave him her best dubiously-raised-eyebrow. "We need to think about the diplomatic possibilities of karaoke."