Fic: Poinsettias and Touch Football, SGA, Gen, G
Title: Poinsettias and Touch Football
Author: wabbitseason
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John, Elizabeth, Carson, Rodney, Ford, Teyla, even Bates
Spoilers: Set during first season
Rating: G
Summary: Football was always a safe topic for John Sheppard, unlike family or Christmas.
Author's Note: Written for the picfor1000 challenge.
For all of his experience with the Stargate program, Ford was no different than any other young lieutenant on his first big posting away from home. When Teyla asked what he missed about Earth, he mentioned his family. "I was able to spend some time with them before I left. We left before the Christmas, so we couldn't give out presents, but..." At the Athosians' blank looks, Ford explained. "Christmas is a holiday some of us celebrate. You're probably not interested in hearing about that."
"But we are," Teyla said. "We're always interested in hearing of your world."
Jinto asked. "Do you really get presents?"
"You bet!" Ford leaned forward. "You spend all night waiting for the time to wake up and then you come downstairs to a big Christmas tree with a bunch of presents underneath..."
"You fell a tree and bring it into your home?" Halling interrupted. "What purpose does this serve?"
"For decoration," Ford said. "You'd string it with lights or tinsel..."
"When this Christmas is through, what happens to the tree?" Halling continued.
"It'd be lucky if it survived the holidays," Ford admitted. "The best thing is if you'd wake up the next day and there'd be snow on the ground."
Bates said, "Not me."
"You've never had a white Christmas?" Ford was surprised.
Bates shrugged, "Not a lot of snow where I come from."
"We'd be lucky if we didn't get a blizzard," Rodney said. "My sister and I would rush outside to play in the snow at the first opportunity." Rodney's expression suggested it was far preferable to being inside. "We'd have these elaborate snowball fights. She'd claim some snow mound as hers, while I'd build these perfectly proportioned snow forts, my first achievements in engineering really."
"You won all the time, of course," Ford finished.
"Not really," Rodney said. "Have you ever tried to calculate the proper trajectory for a perfectly arcing snowball? The calculations are impossibly intricate, you have no idea..." Rodney added sheepishly. "And I kinda threw like a girl." He turned several shades of pink.
Bates laughed outright, "Your sister kicked your ass?"
"All the way to Kitchener and back," Rodney said. "She probably still can."
"My Mum loved to bake," Carson interrupted. "The whole house would be filled with the scents of gingerbread and sugar cookies by the time she was done. Da and I would try to sneak some out of the kitchen, but she'd always catch us."
The group broke up with laughter. Even the Athosians could relate to this custom.
###
John leaned against the wall listening. He could almost smell those cookies wafting down the Atlantis corridors. He'd learned more about his team from these stories than from any dossier. But he didn't feel comfortable sharing his own Christmas memories. He didn't have many pleasant ones.
All John could see was a sterile hospital room, his mother in the last stages of cancer. The nurses had decorated the hospital wing for Christmas, but nothing could change what it was. It was no place for a ten year old boy to spend Christmas.
John drifted towards the balcony. When the doors swished open, John saw Elizabeth standing by one of the columns, watching the water below. She came out here whenever she needed a quick moment to herself.
"You should hear Ford," John began, "He's explaining Christmas to the Athosians. They'll be singing carols before you know it."
"I heard," Elizabeth said. "I'm surprised you're not front and center explaining things."
"Nah, let the kid do it this time," John enjoyed not being in the spotlight for once. "Everyone's sharing their memories. What are yours?" It was more than random curiosity. Elizabeth didn't talk too much about herself. He couldn't tell sometimes if she was just private or whether there wasn't anything to share.
"Never knowing where I was going to spend it next," Elizabeth replied. "We moved all over the place when I was growing up, so I'd see snow one year and lighted palm trees the next. When I worked for the United Nations, I'd still be traveling around. What about you?"
John searched his memory for a happy Christmas. Remembering one of the last Christmases with all the Sheppard family in one place, he said. "I remember playing touch football in the snow with my family." Football was always a safe topic of conversation. He could relate anything to football. "I was the best little running back. I was also the smallest."
"Eluding people even then?" Elizabeth smiled.
John grinned. "I was always good at that."
"So I've noticed," Elizabeth observed. "Football can't be your stock answer for everything, Major."
"Why not? It's worked for me so far," John replied. "What's not to like? It's a great game..."
"A metaphor, yes, I remember," Elizabeth finished. "There has to be something else you associate with the holidays."
"Poinsettias," John said suddenly, seeing the red plant in his mother's hospital room.
At first Elizabeth didn't think she'd heard him correctly. "Poinsettias?"
"Those plants that change to red in December?" John said.
"I know what they are," Elizabeth said, "but why them?"
John said, "The Christmas season hadn't started unless there were poinsettias around the house." He could still remember the way his father would fuss over those damn plants. The old man would spend most of a Saturday afternoon with his arrangements, going around to the local florist. He didn't like the supermarket ones. Then he'd line them up on the front porch until the sunlight gleamed off the red leaves and gold foil. His father maintained that tradition every year until the bitter end. Sometimes John had been glad his father had something to occupy his mind, not think about the date, but maybe just once he would have liked to see his father's grief too. "I guess you could call it a family tradition."
"I thought that was touch football games," Elizabeth teased.
But the smile didn't reach John's eyes this time. "That too."
Author: wabbitseason
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John, Elizabeth, Carson, Rodney, Ford, Teyla, even Bates
Spoilers: Set during first season
Rating: G
Summary: Football was always a safe topic for John Sheppard, unlike family or Christmas.
Author's Note: Written for the picfor1000 challenge.
For all of his experience with the Stargate program, Ford was no different than any other young lieutenant on his first big posting away from home. When Teyla asked what he missed about Earth, he mentioned his family. "I was able to spend some time with them before I left. We left before the Christmas, so we couldn't give out presents, but..." At the Athosians' blank looks, Ford explained. "Christmas is a holiday some of us celebrate. You're probably not interested in hearing about that."
"But we are," Teyla said. "We're always interested in hearing of your world."
Jinto asked. "Do you really get presents?"
"You bet!" Ford leaned forward. "You spend all night waiting for the time to wake up and then you come downstairs to a big Christmas tree with a bunch of presents underneath..."
"You fell a tree and bring it into your home?" Halling interrupted. "What purpose does this serve?"
"For decoration," Ford said. "You'd string it with lights or tinsel..."
"When this Christmas is through, what happens to the tree?" Halling continued.
"It'd be lucky if it survived the holidays," Ford admitted. "The best thing is if you'd wake up the next day and there'd be snow on the ground."
Bates said, "Not me."
"You've never had a white Christmas?" Ford was surprised.
Bates shrugged, "Not a lot of snow where I come from."
"We'd be lucky if we didn't get a blizzard," Rodney said. "My sister and I would rush outside to play in the snow at the first opportunity." Rodney's expression suggested it was far preferable to being inside. "We'd have these elaborate snowball fights. She'd claim some snow mound as hers, while I'd build these perfectly proportioned snow forts, my first achievements in engineering really."
"You won all the time, of course," Ford finished.
"Not really," Rodney said. "Have you ever tried to calculate the proper trajectory for a perfectly arcing snowball? The calculations are impossibly intricate, you have no idea..." Rodney added sheepishly. "And I kinda threw like a girl." He turned several shades of pink.
Bates laughed outright, "Your sister kicked your ass?"
"All the way to Kitchener and back," Rodney said. "She probably still can."
"My Mum loved to bake," Carson interrupted. "The whole house would be filled with the scents of gingerbread and sugar cookies by the time she was done. Da and I would try to sneak some out of the kitchen, but she'd always catch us."
The group broke up with laughter. Even the Athosians could relate to this custom.
###
John leaned against the wall listening. He could almost smell those cookies wafting down the Atlantis corridors. He'd learned more about his team from these stories than from any dossier. But he didn't feel comfortable sharing his own Christmas memories. He didn't have many pleasant ones.
All John could see was a sterile hospital room, his mother in the last stages of cancer. The nurses had decorated the hospital wing for Christmas, but nothing could change what it was. It was no place for a ten year old boy to spend Christmas.
John drifted towards the balcony. When the doors swished open, John saw Elizabeth standing by one of the columns, watching the water below. She came out here whenever she needed a quick moment to herself.
"You should hear Ford," John began, "He's explaining Christmas to the Athosians. They'll be singing carols before you know it."
"I heard," Elizabeth said. "I'm surprised you're not front and center explaining things."
"Nah, let the kid do it this time," John enjoyed not being in the spotlight for once. "Everyone's sharing their memories. What are yours?" It was more than random curiosity. Elizabeth didn't talk too much about herself. He couldn't tell sometimes if she was just private or whether there wasn't anything to share.
"Never knowing where I was going to spend it next," Elizabeth replied. "We moved all over the place when I was growing up, so I'd see snow one year and lighted palm trees the next. When I worked for the United Nations, I'd still be traveling around. What about you?"
John searched his memory for a happy Christmas. Remembering one of the last Christmases with all the Sheppard family in one place, he said. "I remember playing touch football in the snow with my family." Football was always a safe topic of conversation. He could relate anything to football. "I was the best little running back. I was also the smallest."
"Eluding people even then?" Elizabeth smiled.
John grinned. "I was always good at that."
"So I've noticed," Elizabeth observed. "Football can't be your stock answer for everything, Major."
"Why not? It's worked for me so far," John replied. "What's not to like? It's a great game..."
"A metaphor, yes, I remember," Elizabeth finished. "There has to be something else you associate with the holidays."
"Poinsettias," John said suddenly, seeing the red plant in his mother's hospital room.
At first Elizabeth didn't think she'd heard him correctly. "Poinsettias?"
"Those plants that change to red in December?" John said.
"I know what they are," Elizabeth said, "but why them?"
John said, "The Christmas season hadn't started unless there were poinsettias around the house." He could still remember the way his father would fuss over those damn plants. The old man would spend most of a Saturday afternoon with his arrangements, going around to the local florist. He didn't like the supermarket ones. Then he'd line them up on the front porch until the sunlight gleamed off the red leaves and gold foil. His father maintained that tradition every year until the bitter end. Sometimes John had been glad his father had something to occupy his mind, not think about the date, but maybe just once he would have liked to see his father's grief too. "I guess you could call it a family tradition."
"I thought that was touch football games," Elizabeth teased.
But the smile didn't reach John's eyes this time. "That too."