FIC: Secret Santa
Title: Secret Santa
Author:
astromist
Rating: G, with a warning. Don't read this to any children. Contains the secret of Santa.
Characters: Ronon, Rodney, John and Teyla
OK, I'm not sure how much of a cultural exchange this really is, but it just popped into my mind and demanded to be written. So, enjoy!
Ronon stared at Rodney and John skeptically. "Let me get this straight. A fat man in a red suit goes down the chimney of every house in the course of a single night? That's not possible!"
"Of course it isn't," Rodney said. "First off, a grown man with a bag full of toys would never fit down a chimney, it's much too small. He'd get stuck. There have actually been cases of people attempting it and getting stuck. Of course, they've usually been drinking before trying something so stupid. And what about all the houses and apartments without chimneys?" Rodney gestured as he spoke, miming Santa impersonators going down a chimney.
John rolled his eyes. "You're being too literal again, Rodney. Remember that Santa has magical powers that he uses to traverse the chimneys. If he weren't magic, how would he make the reindeer fly?" John crossed his arms over his chest and nodded as if he had just won the argument and settled the matter.
"Flying what?" Teyla asked, looking back and forth between the two men from Earth. She was as confused by this explanation as Ronon.
"Reindeer. They're a large four-legged creature in the wild. They have antlers." Rodney said, answering Teyla's question before jumping on John's comment. "Don't be stupid, Sheppard. Reindeer don't fly, magic or no magic. And besides, magic doesn't exist."
"Hasn't it been said somewhere that any sufficiently advanced technology can seem like magic to those unfamiliar with it?" John asked, goading Rodney.
"Arthur C. Clarke said that 'any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic', yes. But unless you're trying to tell me that someone with an Asgard beaming system is traveling the world every Christmas Eve and beaming gifts into every household labeled 'From Santa', then you're off the point, anyway." Rodney was quite obviously getting exasperated with John, gesticulating wildly and speaking quickly.
"What is the point?" Teyla asked, trying desperately to figure out what they were talking about, and becoming quite amused by the whole thing. Whenever these two started talking about aspects of their world, things got very confusing.
"Santa isn't real!" Rodney said loudly, his voice carrying across the length of the room where the inhabitants of Atlantis were having a holiday party. When a few people turned his way, he reddened and lowered his voice. "It's something parents tell their kids to get them excited about Christmas."
"So you lie to your kids." Ronon crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Rodney.
"I don't!" Rodney protested the charge, looking indignant. "I don't have kids."
"But you have a niece," John pointed out. "Don't tell me you told Madison that Santa isn't real. Way to crush her dreams, McKay."
"I didn't crush her dreams," Rodney said, aggrieved. "We've never talked about Santa. I leave that up to Jeannie and Kaleb. Let them deal with the guilt of lying to their child, and the fallout when she realizes the truth."
"Let me guess," John said. "You were heartbroken when you realized Santa wasn't real?" He thought there had to be a reason Rodney was getting so worked up over the issue, and it sounded like there might be a good story here.
Rodney flushed again. "Well, it hurts to find out your parents have been lying to you your whole life." He paused a moment before continuing. "I was five, and was determined to catch Santa visiting the house. I crept out of my bed and found a good hiding place with a great view of the Christmas tree."
"Where did you hide?" John asked in curiosity. In his experience, most of the hiding places that children thought were fantastic were actually pretty apparent.
"What?" Rodney asked, his train of thought interrupted. "I hid in the pantry. There was a crack between the door and the frame, so no one would notice that there was someone looking out through it. Trust me, I was completely hidden, and since the tree was right across the hall in the living room, it was a great choice." John shrugged his shoulders and Rodney got back to his story. "So anyway, I waited there all night long, and Santa never appeared. But I did see my parents creeping around through the house, putting gifts under the tree, and eating the cookies I had left out for Santa! Even as I watched, I thought that Santa would be very upset that they had eaten his cookies. It was only when the sun started to come up that I realized there would be no visit from Santa. I went back to my room and refused to come out when my parents said it was time to open gifts. They tried to tell me that Santa had come, but didn't have anything to say when I told them what I'd seen. That was a horrible Christmas." Rodney shuddered at the memory. Apparently deciding that misery shared was better, he turned to John. "What about you? When did you find out?"
A shrug was his response. "You know, I don't even really remember. I probably just grew out of believing it. I was older than you, though, I think. It wasn't such a traumatic thing at that age."
Rodney huffed, not satisfied with the story. "Well, after that year, I refused to hang my stocking up again. I refused to perpetuate the lie."
"Stocking?" Teyla asked, confusion spreading across her face again. Rodney had lost her with that last comment.
"It's part of the tradition," John explained. "People hang a stocking, which was originally just a sock, near the fireplace, waiting for Santa to place small gifts in them."
"You put gifts in socks?" Ronon asked with his eyebrows raised in incredulity.
"They're special socks, made just for that reason," John protested. "It's not like we wear the socks or anything."
The explanation apparently did not help matters any, because Ronon just shook his head. "You Earthers are very strange people." On that note, he turned to take a bottle of beer from a nearby table. "But at least you have good food and drink."
With the reminder of the table of nearby goodies, they drifted over and refilled their plates, then wandered to speak to others at the party.
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Five days later, when Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, Rodney rolled over in his bed and jerked back in surprise as his head bumped into something hard. He immediately reached up in hand and grabbed the offending object in reflex, then stopped and stared at the item in his hand. Blinking his bleary eyes open more fully, he tried to make sense of what he saw. He seemed to be holding a sock, a plain white sock, but there was something in it. Shaking the sock upside down, he was surprised to see a small box and a candy cane fall into his hand. Looking at the tag on the box, he saw the words, From Santa. A small smile crept over his lips as he stared at the box. There was only one person that he knew of who could have snuck into his room and left it.
Author:
astromist
Rating: G, with a warning. Don't read this to any children. Contains the secret of Santa.
Characters: Ronon, Rodney, John and Teyla
OK, I'm not sure how much of a cultural exchange this really is, but it just popped into my mind and demanded to be written. So, enjoy!
Ronon stared at Rodney and John skeptically. "Let me get this straight. A fat man in a red suit goes down the chimney of every house in the course of a single night? That's not possible!"
"Of course it isn't," Rodney said. "First off, a grown man with a bag full of toys would never fit down a chimney, it's much too small. He'd get stuck. There have actually been cases of people attempting it and getting stuck. Of course, they've usually been drinking before trying something so stupid. And what about all the houses and apartments without chimneys?" Rodney gestured as he spoke, miming Santa impersonators going down a chimney.
John rolled his eyes. "You're being too literal again, Rodney. Remember that Santa has magical powers that he uses to traverse the chimneys. If he weren't magic, how would he make the reindeer fly?" John crossed his arms over his chest and nodded as if he had just won the argument and settled the matter.
"Flying what?" Teyla asked, looking back and forth between the two men from Earth. She was as confused by this explanation as Ronon.
"Reindeer. They're a large four-legged creature in the wild. They have antlers." Rodney said, answering Teyla's question before jumping on John's comment. "Don't be stupid, Sheppard. Reindeer don't fly, magic or no magic. And besides, magic doesn't exist."
"Hasn't it been said somewhere that any sufficiently advanced technology can seem like magic to those unfamiliar with it?" John asked, goading Rodney.
"Arthur C. Clarke said that 'any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic', yes. But unless you're trying to tell me that someone with an Asgard beaming system is traveling the world every Christmas Eve and beaming gifts into every household labeled 'From Santa', then you're off the point, anyway." Rodney was quite obviously getting exasperated with John, gesticulating wildly and speaking quickly.
"What is the point?" Teyla asked, trying desperately to figure out what they were talking about, and becoming quite amused by the whole thing. Whenever these two started talking about aspects of their world, things got very confusing.
"Santa isn't real!" Rodney said loudly, his voice carrying across the length of the room where the inhabitants of Atlantis were having a holiday party. When a few people turned his way, he reddened and lowered his voice. "It's something parents tell their kids to get them excited about Christmas."
"So you lie to your kids." Ronon crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Rodney.
"I don't!" Rodney protested the charge, looking indignant. "I don't have kids."
"But you have a niece," John pointed out. "Don't tell me you told Madison that Santa isn't real. Way to crush her dreams, McKay."
"I didn't crush her dreams," Rodney said, aggrieved. "We've never talked about Santa. I leave that up to Jeannie and Kaleb. Let them deal with the guilt of lying to their child, and the fallout when she realizes the truth."
"Let me guess," John said. "You were heartbroken when you realized Santa wasn't real?" He thought there had to be a reason Rodney was getting so worked up over the issue, and it sounded like there might be a good story here.
Rodney flushed again. "Well, it hurts to find out your parents have been lying to you your whole life." He paused a moment before continuing. "I was five, and was determined to catch Santa visiting the house. I crept out of my bed and found a good hiding place with a great view of the Christmas tree."
"Where did you hide?" John asked in curiosity. In his experience, most of the hiding places that children thought were fantastic were actually pretty apparent.
"What?" Rodney asked, his train of thought interrupted. "I hid in the pantry. There was a crack between the door and the frame, so no one would notice that there was someone looking out through it. Trust me, I was completely hidden, and since the tree was right across the hall in the living room, it was a great choice." John shrugged his shoulders and Rodney got back to his story. "So anyway, I waited there all night long, and Santa never appeared. But I did see my parents creeping around through the house, putting gifts under the tree, and eating the cookies I had left out for Santa! Even as I watched, I thought that Santa would be very upset that they had eaten his cookies. It was only when the sun started to come up that I realized there would be no visit from Santa. I went back to my room and refused to come out when my parents said it was time to open gifts. They tried to tell me that Santa had come, but didn't have anything to say when I told them what I'd seen. That was a horrible Christmas." Rodney shuddered at the memory. Apparently deciding that misery shared was better, he turned to John. "What about you? When did you find out?"
A shrug was his response. "You know, I don't even really remember. I probably just grew out of believing it. I was older than you, though, I think. It wasn't such a traumatic thing at that age."
Rodney huffed, not satisfied with the story. "Well, after that year, I refused to hang my stocking up again. I refused to perpetuate the lie."
"Stocking?" Teyla asked, confusion spreading across her face again. Rodney had lost her with that last comment.
"It's part of the tradition," John explained. "People hang a stocking, which was originally just a sock, near the fireplace, waiting for Santa to place small gifts in them."
"You put gifts in socks?" Ronon asked with his eyebrows raised in incredulity.
"They're special socks, made just for that reason," John protested. "It's not like we wear the socks or anything."
The explanation apparently did not help matters any, because Ronon just shook his head. "You Earthers are very strange people." On that note, he turned to take a bottle of beer from a nearby table. "But at least you have good food and drink."
With the reminder of the table of nearby goodies, they drifted over and refilled their plates, then wandered to speak to others at the party.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Five days later, when Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, Rodney rolled over in his bed and jerked back in surprise as his head bumped into something hard. He immediately reached up in hand and grabbed the offending object in reflex, then stopped and stared at the item in his hand. Blinking his bleary eyes open more fully, he tried to make sense of what he saw. He seemed to be holding a sock, a plain white sock, but there was something in it. Shaking the sock upside down, he was surprised to see a small box and a candy cane fall into his hand. Looking at the tag on the box, he saw the words, From Santa. A small smile crept over his lips as he stared at the box. There was only one person that he knew of who could have snuck into his room and left it.