Feast of Thanks fic
Title: A Piece of Indian Corn
Author: Padawan_aneiki
Rating/Pairing: G/None
Characters: The whole team
Summary: The team conspire to provide pregnant Teyla some warm fuzzies and get some back in return.
A Piece of Indian Corn
John Sheppard was nothing if not a creature of habit when it came to some
things; spending a good portion of his life in the Air Force had drummed a
little bit of that into him. Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy had done its
best to dismantle some of it, but where he could, he crammed in the familiar,
like his daily run. The day promised to be a beautiful one, and so he’d
opted for a course that would take him onto the East Pier. The sun was
warm, the breeze salty and deliciously cool as his route turned from inside the
city to the pier, and he picked up the pace just a bit.
Not exactly Thanksgiving weather, John noted to himself wryly as his
feet pounded along, an even rhythm against the sound of the water lapping
against the pier below. Well...unless you’re in California.
Which, to be fair, there’d been a couple stints out west. One year, it’d
been unseasonably warm and instead of football, there’d been some sweet
breakers and a board with his name on it for Thanksgiving.
He’d never really given the holiday much thought; his duties had taken him into
some pretty weird places and scenarios that didn’t even really occur to most
people and there were no holidays when it came down to the type of missions
that included hazard pay and security clearances.
There’d been a few of those, too.
Sheppard took his time, pushing the limit just a little; he’d been denied the
exercise the last few days by the usual interruptions. A Wraith culling
on P5M-229 had pinned down a gate team who’d been there to make nice with the
locals and an outbreak of an illness similar to measles on MG3-677 had kept a
couple of medical teams pretty busy along with some of the Marines sent to help
out.
Six of them had contracted the illness, which necessitated keeping them
offworld until they recovered. John wasn’t sure how Danielson would like
coming back with face paint but there wasn’t much he could do about that except
have Zelenka commiserate with him later. But as much as the six Marines
had wanted to come home, to be treated in the Infirmary, they couldn’t risk it.
John wouldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just the general population, although
Rodney’s tendency toward hypochondria was reason enough. It was Teyla,
nearly eight months pregnant. He couldn’t remember exactly what the deal
was with unborn babies and measles; he just knew it was bad.
Danielson’s grumbling hadn’t swayed his decision.
Reaching the turnaround point he’d designated earlier, John swung around and
began the run back, the burn beginning to announce itself to his calves, a good
feeling after the days without time to run. The breeze ruffled his
already rebellious hair, and cooled his face. Eventually he slowed into a
cool-down pace as he neared the entrance back into the city. Closer
still, he dropped off almost completely as he saw the doorway was already open
and occupied. Frowning slightly, John paused to retrieve the towel he’d
left for himself, tied around a railing. Unknotting the material, he
wiped his face with it briefly as he wandered casually toward the doorway.
“Hey, Teyla,” he greeted easily, although hazel eyes swept over her
observantly. He wasn’t entirely sure why the very pregnant Athosian had
chosen to track him down clear out here-if indeed that was her purpose.
“John,” Teyla replied in pleasant greeting, one hand smoothing out the material
of the silky-looking tunic that draped her swollen abdomen. Even late in
her pregnancy, the Athosian still carried herself very gracefully. Still,
there was a...haunted, almost sad look in her eyes that set John on edge, a
shiver racing down his spine.
“What is it?” he wanted to know immediately, one hand reaching for Teyla’s
arm. “Are you all right? It’s...Is the baby...” John stammered
awkwardly as he searched her face for any further indication of distress.
He’d been upset that he’d unwittingly put her baby in danger out in the field
when he’d first learned of her pregnancy, but now he just wanted them to be
okay, and hoped that Teyla would choose to remain with his Gate team after the
child’s arrival.
“He is fine,” Teyla hastened to reassure him, offering him a gentle smile to
punctuate her words. “I am as well, John. It is nothing so dire and
nothing I should truly trouble myself with...”
“Hey...” John dipped his head down a little to catch Teyla’s gaze to keep her
from looking away. “What’s wrong?” He wasn’t exactly the
poster-child for “talking things out,” but Teyla was a member of his
team. Moreover, she was a member of his family. His team here in
Atlantis was closer to him than any of his blood relatives back on Earth, for
that matter, and to that end, he’d do whatever he had to, to take care of
them...protect them. “Teyla?”
The Athosian sighed softly. She had sought John out, albeit not necessarily
with the intention of burdening him with her current melancholy. “On
Athos,” she began hesitantly, “during the season of harvest, we generally
observe a traditional celebration thanking the Ancestors for another year of
supply, and in times when there have been no Wraith, another year of
peace. We have learned a great deal since we first came to
Atlantis...things about the Ancients, things about the Wraith.” She did look
away now, her expression a conflicted jumble of sorrow and anger. “My people
have no peace this year, and Kanaan is unable to express thanks for his son.”
“Oh,” John said softly, uncertain at first how to respond; to begin with, he
sucked at the whole feelings thing, and it wasn’t something he’d expected to
discuss right this moment. However, his brain caught up with him a moment
later, and he continued, “Y’know, we have something like that where I come from
on Earth, too.” He kept his voice neutral as he draped the towel behind
his neck. “It’s called ‘Thanksgiving,’ and there’s a lot of food and
football, usually.”
Teyla actually chuckled a little at that, giving her friend a wise look.
“It seems to me that many of your celebrations include football. I can
see it is a revered tradition among your people.”
“Well...” John grinned slightly as he placed his palms flat on the wall,
preparing to lean into stretching vaguely unhappy calf muscles.
Left...right... “Some people like to think it’s that important.”
The dark head canted slightly, and John regarded Teyla thoughtfully. “You
had breakfast yet?” he asked as he pushed away from the wall, both hands
grasping the ends of the towel. The Athosian smiled back now, and her
hand unconsciously traveled over her unborn child once again as she shook her
head slightly.
“No, but if this is an invitation to join you, then I would be glad to accept,”
Teyla replied and preceded him through the doorway. John followed gamely
along, and they talked as they made their way deeper into the city. The
conversation took some wayward turns along the way, but centered mostly on a
mutual curiosity regarding their peoples’ respective traditions of thanks,
casual and unforced.
“Well,” John said as the transporter deposited them in the area of most
personnel quarters. “This is where I get off; I’ll meet you in the mess
in fifteen.” After ten miles, he needed a shower, and besides, he needed
to talk to McKay. Reaching his quarters, he stripped off the sweat
teeshirt and reached up to activate his earpiece. “Sheppard to McKay,” he
said as he crossed the room and dug around for a clean tee and BDU’s.
++++++
Breakfast was fairly typical; Rodney and Ronon joined them. Rodney talked
animatedly about...everything. Ronon might as well have been the one
“eating for two,” as Colonel Carter had called it. John lounged back in
his chair and drank coffee. Teyla knew that on many levels-most,
even-this was where she belonged. But the child within would bring his
own needs to bear and she knew that too was where she belonged.
Motherhood was not something she had ever expected before Kanaan.
Sometimes it still surprised her, even now as she was coming ever closer to her
baby’s birth, and her belly expanded with his impatient growth. John
wished for her to return to duty when she was able, and a part of her knew that
tug to do so. This was her family.
Kanaan and her son were also her family.
“Oh!”
The little gasp caught the immediate attention of the three males in close
proximity and Teyla was instantly aware of it. Rodney had scraped his
chair back and was already halfway standing up; Ronon had leaned forward and
was staring pointedly. John had unceremoniously sloshed coffee over the
side of the mug as he’d hastily put it on the table and reached his free hand
to her.
“You okay?” he asked anxiously.
“Yes...the baby is...rather active,” Teyla explained. There were times
that the child seemed to be all motion inside, and she moved now to rub the
spot where the offending foot, fist or other part of the anatomy had announced
the baby’s wakefulness.
“He’s kicking?” Rodney echoed dumbly, relief and annoyance warring for his
features. “I thought you were trying to go into labor or something
equally inopportune...” he fussed.
“We are fine,” Teyla repeated firmly, and made a point of returning to
her breakfast, hoping her team-mates would do the same. Fortunately,
after a moment’s more scrutiny, the other three did just that; John taking the
time to mop up the small mess he’d made before finally deciding to get up and
refill his coffee mug. Rodney said something about having scored the last
blueberry muffin and Ronon took the opportunity to pluck it out of the
physicist’s hand.
Teyla took a bite of pancakes, one of the Earth delicacies she’d come to
particularly like during her pregnancy, as she glanced casually past her
bickering team-mates to John as he poured coffee from a carafe. He was
chatting amiably with some of the mess hall staff as he put aside the carafe
and gingerly lifted the steaming mug for a very careful return to the rest of
them. It seemed to Teyla that after recent events, John was more at ease than
he’d been in quite some time, and it was good to see. There had been far
too much difficulty, far too much loss. Carson...Elizabeth...
She felt an answering twinge in her heart whispering the names of her missing
people alongside their fallen friends. We will find you, she
promised to soothe the restless litany of names, and she nibbled on another
bite of pancakes as John settled back down in his chair beside her. He
was pleased, it seemed, with the hot coffee and perhaps a bit amused with the
verbal sparring still going on between Ronon and Rodney over the pilfered
muffin. The colonel simply gave her a sidelong glance and suddenly she
found herself laughing along and then offering half of her own muffin to
Rodney.
Teyla didn’t think a thing of it when they parted ways; the others were not
scheduled for any offworld activity, and she was scheduled to meet with
Jennifer for a routine examination. She took her leave of her team with a
gracious smile, thanking John for their earlier talk, but before Rodney in
particular could become inquisitive, she picked up her tray and made her way
from the mess hall.
It wasn’t until much later, after having been to the Infirmary to see Jennifer
and finding all was well, that she could not seem to locate the other three no
matter where she searched. Rodney was not in his lab, nor any other
lab. Radek Zelenka had only offered that the irascible head of sciences
was “preoccupied,” but was unable to say where the man had gone. John was
not in the control room, jumper bay, or the makeshift driving range he’d
arranged on one of the more remote areas of the city. Ronon also was
nowhere to be found, neither sparring in the gym or at the target range that
had been set up for weapons training. None of them were in their quarters
or the mess hall.
More unsettling was the fact that all three seemed also to be off-radio, and a
familiar feeling made her stomach clench. As if aware of his mother’s
upset, the baby chose that moment to move within, and this far along there
weren’t too many more places for him to go, making his wakefulness abundantly
clear to her.
“Shh...shh,” she unconsciously soothed aloud, both hands traveling along the
curve of her abdomen. “It is well.” Teyla paused and leaned against
the wall, willing the anxiety to calm as well. This was Atlantis.
They were safe here in the city, they had to be.
She nearly jumped when John’s voice drawled in her earpiece. “Sheppard
to Teyla.”
“John!” Teyla could not quite disguise the relief in her own voice as she
responded. “Where are you?” There was a moment’s pause, and then a
slight cough from Sheppard.
“Been looking long?” he wondered aloud, but before she could answer, he
continued. “Come out to the East Pier. About three levels up
there’s a balcony that overlooks the pier. Sheppard out.”
As irritated as she might have been with him-with all of them-at the moment,
Teyla had to admit that the colonel’s cryptic invitation was curious. And
perhaps curiosity could be detrimental the cats, as Rodney had once explained
to her, but this was her team, and so she did not hesitate to trust them.
It was some minutes later that she found her way to the particular balcony, and
she was astonished to find not only her wayward team-mates, but Colonel Carter,
Doctor Zelenka and Doctor Keller as well. There was a table, set for the
evening meal and Teyla realized abruptly that she had spent most of her day
searching for the others. Part of her was a little embarrassed to have
been so easily disconcerted by their temporary absence.
“John? Ronon?” she queried uncertainly. “Colonel Carter...what is going
on here?”
“Colonel Sheppard said you were missing a traditional Athosian celebration, and
since it’s pretty similar to our own Thanksgiving tradition back on Earth, we
decided to combine the two today,” Sam answered first, smiling. To
Teyla’s surprise, it was Rodney who pulled out a chair for her, and she thanked
him as she sat down with them.
“This is...truly I did not expect such a thing,” Teyla announced as she looked
directly at John. The colonel grinned a little.
“I know you didn’t,” he said with a shrug, and the grin broadened. “I
even got a download of last week’s game, so there’s football later.”
Teyla noticed that along with a meal that looked similar to what John had
described to her earlier, there were also a few traditional Athosian dishes,
things that the cooking staff had learned how to make while her people had
still been in close proximity to the city. She looked at each of her
friends, and smiled warmly.
On her plate, however, was a small kernel of kachka, something akin to
Earth wheat, and she noticed then that there was a similar kernel on each
plate. “What is this?” she asked curiously. John cleared his throat
softly, as if embarrassed, but explained anyway.
“It’s...just a tradition I grew up with,” he said sheepishly. “It was
something my grandmother learned from her parents and we did it every
Thanksgiving. We would sit down and on each plate there was a piece of
Indian corn...uh...this was the closest thing we could come up with on short
notice. I pass this around,” he held up a small container. “And as
each person puts their piece of corn in, they would tell the rest of the table
what they’re most thankful for.”
The colonel looked almost downright uncomfortable now, as if he hoped no one
would think it a silly thing to do, but Teyla, sitting to his right, took the
small round container gracefully and placed her kernel inside. She looked
at each in turn. “I am most grateful that we all have come to this time
of thankfulness together. May we see many more days like this with one
another.”
As each person took their turn, Teyla felt the peace she had been seeking
earlier return to her in a flood. They would find Kanaan; they would find
her people, but she was reminded in this moment that she was thankful for this,
her home and family in Atlantis. It was only later, after they had
practically invaded the rec room for the football game, joined by Lorne and
half a dozen Marines, that Teyla had the opportunity to express it.
She passed the popcorn to John, who passed it to Lorne. “Thank you,
John,” she murmured quietly.
“Welcome,” Sheppard responded with a lopsided grin. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Author: Padawan_aneiki
Rating/Pairing: G/None
Characters: The whole team
Summary: The team conspire to provide pregnant Teyla some warm fuzzies and get some back in return.
A Piece of Indian Corn
John Sheppard was nothing if not a creature of habit when it came to some
things; spending a good portion of his life in the Air Force had drummed a
little bit of that into him. Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy had done its
best to dismantle some of it, but where he could, he crammed in the familiar,
like his daily run. The day promised to be a beautiful one, and so he’d
opted for a course that would take him onto the East Pier. The sun was
warm, the breeze salty and deliciously cool as his route turned from inside the
city to the pier, and he picked up the pace just a bit.
Not exactly Thanksgiving weather, John noted to himself wryly as his
feet pounded along, an even rhythm against the sound of the water lapping
against the pier below. Well...unless you’re in California.
Which, to be fair, there’d been a couple stints out west. One year, it’d
been unseasonably warm and instead of football, there’d been some sweet
breakers and a board with his name on it for Thanksgiving.
He’d never really given the holiday much thought; his duties had taken him into
some pretty weird places and scenarios that didn’t even really occur to most
people and there were no holidays when it came down to the type of missions
that included hazard pay and security clearances.
There’d been a few of those, too.
Sheppard took his time, pushing the limit just a little; he’d been denied the
exercise the last few days by the usual interruptions. A Wraith culling
on P5M-229 had pinned down a gate team who’d been there to make nice with the
locals and an outbreak of an illness similar to measles on MG3-677 had kept a
couple of medical teams pretty busy along with some of the Marines sent to help
out.
Six of them had contracted the illness, which necessitated keeping them
offworld until they recovered. John wasn’t sure how Danielson would like
coming back with face paint but there wasn’t much he could do about that except
have Zelenka commiserate with him later. But as much as the six Marines
had wanted to come home, to be treated in the Infirmary, they couldn’t risk it.
John wouldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just the general population, although
Rodney’s tendency toward hypochondria was reason enough. It was Teyla,
nearly eight months pregnant. He couldn’t remember exactly what the deal
was with unborn babies and measles; he just knew it was bad.
Danielson’s grumbling hadn’t swayed his decision.
Reaching the turnaround point he’d designated earlier, John swung around and
began the run back, the burn beginning to announce itself to his calves, a good
feeling after the days without time to run. The breeze ruffled his
already rebellious hair, and cooled his face. Eventually he slowed into a
cool-down pace as he neared the entrance back into the city. Closer
still, he dropped off almost completely as he saw the doorway was already open
and occupied. Frowning slightly, John paused to retrieve the towel he’d
left for himself, tied around a railing. Unknotting the material, he
wiped his face with it briefly as he wandered casually toward the doorway.
“Hey, Teyla,” he greeted easily, although hazel eyes swept over her
observantly. He wasn’t entirely sure why the very pregnant Athosian had
chosen to track him down clear out here-if indeed that was her purpose.
“John,” Teyla replied in pleasant greeting, one hand smoothing out the material
of the silky-looking tunic that draped her swollen abdomen. Even late in
her pregnancy, the Athosian still carried herself very gracefully. Still,
there was a...haunted, almost sad look in her eyes that set John on edge, a
shiver racing down his spine.
“What is it?” he wanted to know immediately, one hand reaching for Teyla’s
arm. “Are you all right? It’s...Is the baby...” John stammered
awkwardly as he searched her face for any further indication of distress.
He’d been upset that he’d unwittingly put her baby in danger out in the field
when he’d first learned of her pregnancy, but now he just wanted them to be
okay, and hoped that Teyla would choose to remain with his Gate team after the
child’s arrival.
“He is fine,” Teyla hastened to reassure him, offering him a gentle smile to
punctuate her words. “I am as well, John. It is nothing so dire and
nothing I should truly trouble myself with...”
“Hey...” John dipped his head down a little to catch Teyla’s gaze to keep her
from looking away. “What’s wrong?” He wasn’t exactly the
poster-child for “talking things out,” but Teyla was a member of his
team. Moreover, she was a member of his family. His team here in
Atlantis was closer to him than any of his blood relatives back on Earth, for
that matter, and to that end, he’d do whatever he had to, to take care of
them...protect them. “Teyla?”
The Athosian sighed softly. She had sought John out, albeit not necessarily
with the intention of burdening him with her current melancholy. “On
Athos,” she began hesitantly, “during the season of harvest, we generally
observe a traditional celebration thanking the Ancestors for another year of
supply, and in times when there have been no Wraith, another year of
peace. We have learned a great deal since we first came to
Atlantis...things about the Ancients, things about the Wraith.” She did look
away now, her expression a conflicted jumble of sorrow and anger. “My people
have no peace this year, and Kanaan is unable to express thanks for his son.”
“Oh,” John said softly, uncertain at first how to respond; to begin with, he
sucked at the whole feelings thing, and it wasn’t something he’d expected to
discuss right this moment. However, his brain caught up with him a moment
later, and he continued, “Y’know, we have something like that where I come from
on Earth, too.” He kept his voice neutral as he draped the towel behind
his neck. “It’s called ‘Thanksgiving,’ and there’s a lot of food and
football, usually.”
Teyla actually chuckled a little at that, giving her friend a wise look.
“It seems to me that many of your celebrations include football. I can
see it is a revered tradition among your people.”
“Well...” John grinned slightly as he placed his palms flat on the wall,
preparing to lean into stretching vaguely unhappy calf muscles.
Left...right... “Some people like to think it’s that important.”
The dark head canted slightly, and John regarded Teyla thoughtfully. “You
had breakfast yet?” he asked as he pushed away from the wall, both hands
grasping the ends of the towel. The Athosian smiled back now, and her
hand unconsciously traveled over her unborn child once again as she shook her
head slightly.
“No, but if this is an invitation to join you, then I would be glad to accept,”
Teyla replied and preceded him through the doorway. John followed gamely
along, and they talked as they made their way deeper into the city. The
conversation took some wayward turns along the way, but centered mostly on a
mutual curiosity regarding their peoples’ respective traditions of thanks,
casual and unforced.
“Well,” John said as the transporter deposited them in the area of most
personnel quarters. “This is where I get off; I’ll meet you in the mess
in fifteen.” After ten miles, he needed a shower, and besides, he needed
to talk to McKay. Reaching his quarters, he stripped off the sweat
teeshirt and reached up to activate his earpiece. “Sheppard to McKay,” he
said as he crossed the room and dug around for a clean tee and BDU’s.
++++++
Breakfast was fairly typical; Rodney and Ronon joined them. Rodney talked
animatedly about...everything. Ronon might as well have been the one
“eating for two,” as Colonel Carter had called it. John lounged back in
his chair and drank coffee. Teyla knew that on many levels-most,
even-this was where she belonged. But the child within would bring his
own needs to bear and she knew that too was where she belonged.
Motherhood was not something she had ever expected before Kanaan.
Sometimes it still surprised her, even now as she was coming ever closer to her
baby’s birth, and her belly expanded with his impatient growth. John
wished for her to return to duty when she was able, and a part of her knew that
tug to do so. This was her family.
Kanaan and her son were also her family.
“Oh!”
The little gasp caught the immediate attention of the three males in close
proximity and Teyla was instantly aware of it. Rodney had scraped his
chair back and was already halfway standing up; Ronon had leaned forward and
was staring pointedly. John had unceremoniously sloshed coffee over the
side of the mug as he’d hastily put it on the table and reached his free hand
to her.
“You okay?” he asked anxiously.
“Yes...the baby is...rather active,” Teyla explained. There were times
that the child seemed to be all motion inside, and she moved now to rub the
spot where the offending foot, fist or other part of the anatomy had announced
the baby’s wakefulness.
“He’s kicking?” Rodney echoed dumbly, relief and annoyance warring for his
features. “I thought you were trying to go into labor or something
equally inopportune...” he fussed.
“We are fine,” Teyla repeated firmly, and made a point of returning to
her breakfast, hoping her team-mates would do the same. Fortunately,
after a moment’s more scrutiny, the other three did just that; John taking the
time to mop up the small mess he’d made before finally deciding to get up and
refill his coffee mug. Rodney said something about having scored the last
blueberry muffin and Ronon took the opportunity to pluck it out of the
physicist’s hand.
Teyla took a bite of pancakes, one of the Earth delicacies she’d come to
particularly like during her pregnancy, as she glanced casually past her
bickering team-mates to John as he poured coffee from a carafe. He was
chatting amiably with some of the mess hall staff as he put aside the carafe
and gingerly lifted the steaming mug for a very careful return to the rest of
them. It seemed to Teyla that after recent events, John was more at ease than
he’d been in quite some time, and it was good to see. There had been far
too much difficulty, far too much loss. Carson...Elizabeth...
She felt an answering twinge in her heart whispering the names of her missing
people alongside their fallen friends. We will find you, she
promised to soothe the restless litany of names, and she nibbled on another
bite of pancakes as John settled back down in his chair beside her. He
was pleased, it seemed, with the hot coffee and perhaps a bit amused with the
verbal sparring still going on between Ronon and Rodney over the pilfered
muffin. The colonel simply gave her a sidelong glance and suddenly she
found herself laughing along and then offering half of her own muffin to
Rodney.
Teyla didn’t think a thing of it when they parted ways; the others were not
scheduled for any offworld activity, and she was scheduled to meet with
Jennifer for a routine examination. She took her leave of her team with a
gracious smile, thanking John for their earlier talk, but before Rodney in
particular could become inquisitive, she picked up her tray and made her way
from the mess hall.
It wasn’t until much later, after having been to the Infirmary to see Jennifer
and finding all was well, that she could not seem to locate the other three no
matter where she searched. Rodney was not in his lab, nor any other
lab. Radek Zelenka had only offered that the irascible head of sciences
was “preoccupied,” but was unable to say where the man had gone. John was
not in the control room, jumper bay, or the makeshift driving range he’d
arranged on one of the more remote areas of the city. Ronon also was
nowhere to be found, neither sparring in the gym or at the target range that
had been set up for weapons training. None of them were in their quarters
or the mess hall.
More unsettling was the fact that all three seemed also to be off-radio, and a
familiar feeling made her stomach clench. As if aware of his mother’s
upset, the baby chose that moment to move within, and this far along there
weren’t too many more places for him to go, making his wakefulness abundantly
clear to her.
“Shh...shh,” she unconsciously soothed aloud, both hands traveling along the
curve of her abdomen. “It is well.” Teyla paused and leaned against
the wall, willing the anxiety to calm as well. This was Atlantis.
They were safe here in the city, they had to be.
She nearly jumped when John’s voice drawled in her earpiece. “Sheppard
to Teyla.”
“John!” Teyla could not quite disguise the relief in her own voice as she
responded. “Where are you?” There was a moment’s pause, and then a
slight cough from Sheppard.
“Been looking long?” he wondered aloud, but before she could answer, he
continued. “Come out to the East Pier. About three levels up
there’s a balcony that overlooks the pier. Sheppard out.”
As irritated as she might have been with him-with all of them-at the moment,
Teyla had to admit that the colonel’s cryptic invitation was curious. And
perhaps curiosity could be detrimental the cats, as Rodney had once explained
to her, but this was her team, and so she did not hesitate to trust them.
It was some minutes later that she found her way to the particular balcony, and
she was astonished to find not only her wayward team-mates, but Colonel Carter,
Doctor Zelenka and Doctor Keller as well. There was a table, set for the
evening meal and Teyla realized abruptly that she had spent most of her day
searching for the others. Part of her was a little embarrassed to have
been so easily disconcerted by their temporary absence.
“John? Ronon?” she queried uncertainly. “Colonel Carter...what is going
on here?”
“Colonel Sheppard said you were missing a traditional Athosian celebration, and
since it’s pretty similar to our own Thanksgiving tradition back on Earth, we
decided to combine the two today,” Sam answered first, smiling. To
Teyla’s surprise, it was Rodney who pulled out a chair for her, and she thanked
him as she sat down with them.
“This is...truly I did not expect such a thing,” Teyla announced as she looked
directly at John. The colonel grinned a little.
“I know you didn’t,” he said with a shrug, and the grin broadened. “I
even got a download of last week’s game, so there’s football later.”
Teyla noticed that along with a meal that looked similar to what John had
described to her earlier, there were also a few traditional Athosian dishes,
things that the cooking staff had learned how to make while her people had
still been in close proximity to the city. She looked at each of her
friends, and smiled warmly.
On her plate, however, was a small kernel of kachka, something akin to
Earth wheat, and she noticed then that there was a similar kernel on each
plate. “What is this?” she asked curiously. John cleared his throat
softly, as if embarrassed, but explained anyway.
“It’s...just a tradition I grew up with,” he said sheepishly. “It was
something my grandmother learned from her parents and we did it every
Thanksgiving. We would sit down and on each plate there was a piece of
Indian corn...uh...this was the closest thing we could come up with on short
notice. I pass this around,” he held up a small container. “And as
each person puts their piece of corn in, they would tell the rest of the table
what they’re most thankful for.”
The colonel looked almost downright uncomfortable now, as if he hoped no one
would think it a silly thing to do, but Teyla, sitting to his right, took the
small round container gracefully and placed her kernel inside. She looked
at each in turn. “I am most grateful that we all have come to this time
of thankfulness together. May we see many more days like this with one
another.”
As each person took their turn, Teyla felt the peace she had been seeking
earlier return to her in a flood. They would find Kanaan; they would find
her people, but she was reminded in this moment that she was thankful for this,
her home and family in Atlantis. It was only later, after they had
practically invaded the rec room for the football game, joined by Lorne and
half a dozen Marines, that Teyla had the opportunity to express it.
She passed the popcorn to John, who passed it to Lorne. “Thank you,
John,” she murmured quietly.
“Welcome,” Sheppard responded with a lopsided grin. “Happy Thanksgiving.”