Stargate Atlantis: The Love of a Good...
Title: The Love of a Good...
Author: tarimanveri
Summary: “I take it back! You’re worthy of bearing my children after all.”
Rating: G
Warnings: very mild language, caffeine, insanity, untagged dialogue, CRACK
Spoilers: vague general season 2
Word Count: 1104
Beta: I've been tweaking this myself for a while
Recipient: Caffeine addicts unite!
Originally archived at: tarimanveri_fic
Author's Notes: Umm, insanity. Insanity that's been lurking in the depths of my hard drive for about a year, at this point. Now posted in a moment of further insanity. Inspiration for various points can be credited to a) Rodney's OH SO CANON Tim Hortons mug, b) my collection and hierarchy, c) my mom's OUTRAGEOUS collection, and d) my advisor's never-washed mug.
The Love of a Good...
“You have got to be kidding me, McKay. You, you brought these… all these, you brought all these back with you from Earth?”
“What’s the problem here?”
“I really think a visit to Heightmeyer is in order, Elizabeth. Can you order it? Because this, besides being totally outside my jurisdiction, is way beyond me.”
“Oh, I am staying out of this one, John. I’ll be outside continuing to actively stay out of this one if you need me.”
“I repeat, Colonel, I repeat very clearly and in words of one syllable, what is the problem - oh wait, too many syllables, what is wrong with this?”
“What isn’t wrong with this, McKay? You’re insane. You took some of that weird Canadian cold medicine while you were home. Or I don’t know, you had to pay so much income tax that your brain dribbled out your ears, or… McKay, you’re sitting in a science lab in another galaxy and you are surrounded by dirty coffee mugs. That you brought. From Earth.”
“Yes, so? You actually see a problem with this?”
“McKay, a thirty-six day trip on a spaceship and you bring back a cargo of mugs? I mean, look at them! This one has kittens on it, for Chrissakes. And this one - I thought you Canadians took pride in not being oh wait, how did you put it that one time? Rude jingoistic flag-wavers, you were pretty smug about it.”
“So it has a Government of Canada logo on it, so what? Do you see any ‘God Bless’ in there? So there’s a small flag over the a, and you think what, I’m planning an intergalactic Canadian coup? Wait, that is not funny! Maybe I will, and when I do, you won’t know what hit you.”
“But seriously, McKay, the mess has mugs, lots of them. What possible use can you have for a decrepit - ugh, have you ever even washed this - insulated Tim Hortons mug in the Pegasus galaxy? You could have brought music! You could have brought porn! We don’t even have a reliable coffee supply!”
“I don’t even know where to start with you! I mean, look, you can insult my Government of Canada mug all you want, but my Tim Hortons mug is sacred. It is old and venerable and no, I have never washed it, because that would be sacrilege. I mean, can you see the perfect patina that’s built up inside there over years of commutes? That mug carried the coffee that jump-started my brain every morning of my illustrious university career and frankly there are very few mugs in existence that even come close to equaling its worth. If my mugs were women it would be the only one I own worthy of carrying my children and you’re casting aspersions upon it and I won’t stand for it.”
“Would this be a bad moment to point out that you’re sitting… wait… are you implying that there’s some sort of… mug hierarchy at work here? And bear your children? McKay, did you actually get into the sketchy Canadian cold medicine or something? Seriously, can I have some of whatever you’re smoking?”
“Do you want to take this outside, Colonel? Because the honour of my mug collection is at stake here and… what is it, Radek?”
“It is Elizabeth, she seems to be dying in the corridor.”
“What’s happened?”
“It is some kind of convulsion, Rodney. Never have I seen a person laugh so much. What is so funny?”
“Rodney’s been showing me his mug collection. He has a mug hierarchy, did you know? I think we should both back away slowly with our hands visible.”
“What is wrong with a mug hierarchy? I don’t see a problem. So Rodney likes some of his mugs more than he likes some of his other mugs and so maybe some of his mugs he likes more than he likes some people, why does this upset you?”
“Yes, you tell him, Radek.”
“No, in fact, I shall say nothing, Rodney. I shall say nothing at all about mugs nor about my personal collection of schnapps glasses brought straight to Atlantis from the Czech Republic. When we acquire high-proof alcohol and drink it out of these glasses and with joy and vigor smash them on the lab walls afterwards John will not be invited to the party, is all.”
“Wait, high-proof alcohol? Where are you going to get high-proof alcohol? Wait, I want to be invited to that party!”
“It is far too late for that, I am very afraid.”
“I cannot believe this. Suddenly I am very much the victim here.”
“Excuse me, it’s my mugs we’re insulting here.”
“Now Rodney, this is enough, I think. Sheppard, he is not a survivor of graduate school, he can never understand what is a true love of coffee. This is a sad thing, but irreparable. He needs pity, not pistols drawn in the corridor.”
“Whoa, whoa! Air Force, remember? Night ops! Basic training! You can’t possibly think that I don’t appreciate coffee.”
“Oh, coffee. They probably gave you speed. I wrote my doctoral dissertation fueled by nothing but espresso and Kraft dinner.”
“Okay, so I didn’t survive grad school. I’m not part of the cult. I get it. Whatever.”
“I should think not.”
“Anyway, before I got distracted by your fetish objects here, I was coming to tell you that they’ve unloaded the supplies.”
“Supplies?”
“Supplies, McKay.”
“Supplies as in coffee for my mugs? And you didn’t tell me? Until now?”
“McKay…”
“Come, Rodney. Let us put aside petty squabbles and take Colonel Sheppard and go to worship at the temple of freshly-arrived Earth coffee in the mess hall.”
“We’ll finish this later, Sheppard, I swear…”
“Coffee, McKay. We’re taking you to have coffee. And I think we all know who’s in charge of requisitions here.”
“Oh, come on. I could hack the requisitions system blindfolded with one hand tied behind my back.”
“So that’s why you left it to my discretion to special order you a personal stash of Second Cup so we can all stop listening to you whine about Canadian coffee, is that it?”
“Wait, what?”
“Second Cup, McKay.”
“I take it back! You’re worthy of bearing my children after all.”
“McKay, what the…”
“My first born. I mean you can have my first-born. I leave him in your capable hands. Second Cup! Remind me to thank you properly later.”
“Carson? This is Sheppard. I think we need a med team outside McKay’s lab. No, no accident. It’s Elizabeth and Zelenka, they’re laughing so hard they’ve turned purple…”
Author: tarimanveri
Summary: “I take it back! You’re worthy of bearing my children after all.”
Rating: G
Warnings: very mild language, caffeine, insanity, untagged dialogue, CRACK
Spoilers: vague general season 2
Word Count: 1104
Beta: I've been tweaking this myself for a while
Recipient: Caffeine addicts unite!
Originally archived at: tarimanveri_fic
Author's Notes: Umm, insanity. Insanity that's been lurking in the depths of my hard drive for about a year, at this point. Now posted in a moment of further insanity. Inspiration for various points can be credited to a) Rodney's OH SO CANON Tim Hortons mug, b) my collection and hierarchy, c) my mom's OUTRAGEOUS collection, and d) my advisor's never-washed mug.
The Love of a Good...
“You have got to be kidding me, McKay. You, you brought these… all these, you brought all these back with you from Earth?”
“What’s the problem here?”
“I really think a visit to Heightmeyer is in order, Elizabeth. Can you order it? Because this, besides being totally outside my jurisdiction, is way beyond me.”
“Oh, I am staying out of this one, John. I’ll be outside continuing to actively stay out of this one if you need me.”
“I repeat, Colonel, I repeat very clearly and in words of one syllable, what is the problem - oh wait, too many syllables, what is wrong with this?”
“What isn’t wrong with this, McKay? You’re insane. You took some of that weird Canadian cold medicine while you were home. Or I don’t know, you had to pay so much income tax that your brain dribbled out your ears, or… McKay, you’re sitting in a science lab in another galaxy and you are surrounded by dirty coffee mugs. That you brought. From Earth.”
“Yes, so? You actually see a problem with this?”
“McKay, a thirty-six day trip on a spaceship and you bring back a cargo of mugs? I mean, look at them! This one has kittens on it, for Chrissakes. And this one - I thought you Canadians took pride in not being oh wait, how did you put it that one time? Rude jingoistic flag-wavers, you were pretty smug about it.”
“So it has a Government of Canada logo on it, so what? Do you see any ‘God Bless’ in there? So there’s a small flag over the a, and you think what, I’m planning an intergalactic Canadian coup? Wait, that is not funny! Maybe I will, and when I do, you won’t know what hit you.”
“But seriously, McKay, the mess has mugs, lots of them. What possible use can you have for a decrepit - ugh, have you ever even washed this - insulated Tim Hortons mug in the Pegasus galaxy? You could have brought music! You could have brought porn! We don’t even have a reliable coffee supply!”
“I don’t even know where to start with you! I mean, look, you can insult my Government of Canada mug all you want, but my Tim Hortons mug is sacred. It is old and venerable and no, I have never washed it, because that would be sacrilege. I mean, can you see the perfect patina that’s built up inside there over years of commutes? That mug carried the coffee that jump-started my brain every morning of my illustrious university career and frankly there are very few mugs in existence that even come close to equaling its worth. If my mugs were women it would be the only one I own worthy of carrying my children and you’re casting aspersions upon it and I won’t stand for it.”
“Would this be a bad moment to point out that you’re sitting… wait… are you implying that there’s some sort of… mug hierarchy at work here? And bear your children? McKay, did you actually get into the sketchy Canadian cold medicine or something? Seriously, can I have some of whatever you’re smoking?”
“Do you want to take this outside, Colonel? Because the honour of my mug collection is at stake here and… what is it, Radek?”
“It is Elizabeth, she seems to be dying in the corridor.”
“What’s happened?”
“It is some kind of convulsion, Rodney. Never have I seen a person laugh so much. What is so funny?”
“Rodney’s been showing me his mug collection. He has a mug hierarchy, did you know? I think we should both back away slowly with our hands visible.”
“What is wrong with a mug hierarchy? I don’t see a problem. So Rodney likes some of his mugs more than he likes some of his other mugs and so maybe some of his mugs he likes more than he likes some people, why does this upset you?”
“Yes, you tell him, Radek.”
“No, in fact, I shall say nothing, Rodney. I shall say nothing at all about mugs nor about my personal collection of schnapps glasses brought straight to Atlantis from the Czech Republic. When we acquire high-proof alcohol and drink it out of these glasses and with joy and vigor smash them on the lab walls afterwards John will not be invited to the party, is all.”
“Wait, high-proof alcohol? Where are you going to get high-proof alcohol? Wait, I want to be invited to that party!”
“It is far too late for that, I am very afraid.”
“I cannot believe this. Suddenly I am very much the victim here.”
“Excuse me, it’s my mugs we’re insulting here.”
“Now Rodney, this is enough, I think. Sheppard, he is not a survivor of graduate school, he can never understand what is a true love of coffee. This is a sad thing, but irreparable. He needs pity, not pistols drawn in the corridor.”
“Whoa, whoa! Air Force, remember? Night ops! Basic training! You can’t possibly think that I don’t appreciate coffee.”
“Oh, coffee. They probably gave you speed. I wrote my doctoral dissertation fueled by nothing but espresso and Kraft dinner.”
“Okay, so I didn’t survive grad school. I’m not part of the cult. I get it. Whatever.”
“I should think not.”
“Anyway, before I got distracted by your fetish objects here, I was coming to tell you that they’ve unloaded the supplies.”
“Supplies?”
“Supplies, McKay.”
“Supplies as in coffee for my mugs? And you didn’t tell me? Until now?”
“McKay…”
“Come, Rodney. Let us put aside petty squabbles and take Colonel Sheppard and go to worship at the temple of freshly-arrived Earth coffee in the mess hall.”
“We’ll finish this later, Sheppard, I swear…”
“Coffee, McKay. We’re taking you to have coffee. And I think we all know who’s in charge of requisitions here.”
“Oh, come on. I could hack the requisitions system blindfolded with one hand tied behind my back.”
“So that’s why you left it to my discretion to special order you a personal stash of Second Cup so we can all stop listening to you whine about Canadian coffee, is that it?”
“Wait, what?”
“Second Cup, McKay.”
“I take it back! You’re worthy of bearing my children after all.”
“McKay, what the…”
“My first born. I mean you can have my first-born. I leave him in your capable hands. Second Cup! Remind me to thank you properly later.”
“Carson? This is Sheppard. I think we need a med team outside McKay’s lab. No, no accident. It’s Elizabeth and Zelenka, they’re laughing so hard they’ve turned purple…”