[Stargate: Drabble] "Hail Berry" [John/Rodney, G]
Title: Hail Berry
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: 100_tales challenge 002 hail
Rating: G
Word Count: 804
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Summary: “Can you not hear it? The rain has turned to hail.”
Hail Berry
They were in the middle of negotiations with the High Council of P4X-1134 when there was a sudden commotion.
Two of the councilors bowed and left, joining several young men who were rushing past the open meeting pavilion. John got to his feet, fingers tensing toward his P90, but the eldest member of the Council laid her hand on his arm.
“Be calm, Colonel Sheppard,” she said. “There is no danger.”
“Then what’s going on?” asked Rodney.
The woman smiled. “Can you not hear it? The rain has turned to hail.”
It had been raining since they arrived, a slow steady drizzle, but now that John was listening for it, he could hear the change in the sound of it hitting the pavilion roof. In the walkway around it, small pieces of ice were beginning to collect among the gravel.
“Is there a significance to this?” asked Teyla.
The councilor nodded. “See, the men are putting out cloths, for the hail to fall on. When it stops, it will be collected.”
“Then what?” asked Ronon.
“Then, we eat. You should remain here and watch. I must assist with the syrups.”
“Syrups?” repeated Rodney, but she had already gone.
In the fields outside the pavilion, the men had unfolded large cloths over the ground, then all of them quickly retreated back under shelter as the hail collected. The hailstones were about the size of peas or grapes and by the time the storm ended a few minutes later, the cloths were covered in tiny balls of ice.
The men darted out again, bundling the sheets back up with the hail inside and hauling them into the pavilion. Other men brought in large empty barrels, which were quickly filled with the hail. Then, several women came from the direction of the village, carrying stacks of wooden bowls and tall ceramic pictures.
“Come, my friends,” said the old councilwoman, appearing beside them. “As our guests, you must have the first bowl.”
“Thank you,” said John. “But maybe you could show us how it’s done?”
She smiled, in understanding and approval. “It is our tradition to let the children go first.”
John smiled back. “By all means.”
At her signal, a gaggle of vaguely grade school-aged children raced over to where the wooden bowls had been stacked, each grabbing one. The bigger kids helped the littler ones, and they formed a haphazard line by the barrels, so one of the adults could scoop them a generous portion of hailstones. At what had, moments before, been the Council table, more adults poured colorful syrups over the cups of ice, which the kids began to eat like-
“Snow cones,” said Rodney. When the Council members looked curiously at him, he added, “It’s something we have on our planet. Instead of waiting for hail, we take larger blocks of ice and chip them into flakes. Then, it’s served in a paper cone, so they’re called snow cones.”
The elderly councilwoman smiled. “The ice of winter does not last long into the warmer weather. But with the spring comes the hail, and why should we not enjoy what nature provides?”
“Exactly,” John said.
“I am glad we agree,” she said, then gestured toward the hail-snow cone setup. “Shall we?”
The team all took wooden bowls and got their cups of hailstones, but John stopped in front of the syrup pitchers. “Do any of these have citrus in them?”
None of the people who’d made them were quite sure, but with Teyla’s help, they were able to determine two of the flavors were questionable and one definitely had citrus, but the third was made from berries that grew on several planets they’d visited and were safe.
Rodney smiled as John requested the berry syrup, but was immediately distracted when he received his own bowl.
“How is this so good?” Rodney mumbled around a mouthful of syrupy hailstones.
John smiled at him.
Then, he noticed that several of the adults had broken off into pairs, offering each other spoonfulls as often as they ate from their own bowls.
The councilwoman noticed him looking and smiled. “It is considered good luck to share the bounty of the skies with one’s beloved. Also, it is very romantic.”
“Um…” said John, but she’d left again.
He looked around again, and saw that one of the couples was a pair of women and another were both men, then stepped closer to Rodney.
“So, they have a tradition here,” he said, holding out his spoon.
Rodney shot him a what are you up to? frown, but when John just smiled, he leaned forward to accept the bite of hailstones. “Does this mean we’re married on this planet?”
John shrugged, grinning. “No idea.”
His husband sighed. “Maybe tenth time’s the charm?”
John laughed, and Rodney’s kiss tasted like berry syrup.
THE END
Current Mood:
tired
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: 100_tales challenge 002 hail
Rating: G
Word Count: 804
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Summary: “Can you not hear it? The rain has turned to hail.”
Hail Berry
They were in the middle of negotiations with the High Council of P4X-1134 when there was a sudden commotion.
Two of the councilors bowed and left, joining several young men who were rushing past the open meeting pavilion. John got to his feet, fingers tensing toward his P90, but the eldest member of the Council laid her hand on his arm.
“Be calm, Colonel Sheppard,” she said. “There is no danger.”
“Then what’s going on?” asked Rodney.
The woman smiled. “Can you not hear it? The rain has turned to hail.”
It had been raining since they arrived, a slow steady drizzle, but now that John was listening for it, he could hear the change in the sound of it hitting the pavilion roof. In the walkway around it, small pieces of ice were beginning to collect among the gravel.
“Is there a significance to this?” asked Teyla.
The councilor nodded. “See, the men are putting out cloths, for the hail to fall on. When it stops, it will be collected.”
“Then what?” asked Ronon.
“Then, we eat. You should remain here and watch. I must assist with the syrups.”
“Syrups?” repeated Rodney, but she had already gone.
In the fields outside the pavilion, the men had unfolded large cloths over the ground, then all of them quickly retreated back under shelter as the hail collected. The hailstones were about the size of peas or grapes and by the time the storm ended a few minutes later, the cloths were covered in tiny balls of ice.
The men darted out again, bundling the sheets back up with the hail inside and hauling them into the pavilion. Other men brought in large empty barrels, which were quickly filled with the hail. Then, several women came from the direction of the village, carrying stacks of wooden bowls and tall ceramic pictures.
“Come, my friends,” said the old councilwoman, appearing beside them. “As our guests, you must have the first bowl.”
“Thank you,” said John. “But maybe you could show us how it’s done?”
She smiled, in understanding and approval. “It is our tradition to let the children go first.”
John smiled back. “By all means.”
At her signal, a gaggle of vaguely grade school-aged children raced over to where the wooden bowls had been stacked, each grabbing one. The bigger kids helped the littler ones, and they formed a haphazard line by the barrels, so one of the adults could scoop them a generous portion of hailstones. At what had, moments before, been the Council table, more adults poured colorful syrups over the cups of ice, which the kids began to eat like-
“Snow cones,” said Rodney. When the Council members looked curiously at him, he added, “It’s something we have on our planet. Instead of waiting for hail, we take larger blocks of ice and chip them into flakes. Then, it’s served in a paper cone, so they’re called snow cones.”
The elderly councilwoman smiled. “The ice of winter does not last long into the warmer weather. But with the spring comes the hail, and why should we not enjoy what nature provides?”
“Exactly,” John said.
“I am glad we agree,” she said, then gestured toward the hail-snow cone setup. “Shall we?”
The team all took wooden bowls and got their cups of hailstones, but John stopped in front of the syrup pitchers. “Do any of these have citrus in them?”
None of the people who’d made them were quite sure, but with Teyla’s help, they were able to determine two of the flavors were questionable and one definitely had citrus, but the third was made from berries that grew on several planets they’d visited and were safe.
Rodney smiled as John requested the berry syrup, but was immediately distracted when he received his own bowl.
“How is this so good?” Rodney mumbled around a mouthful of syrupy hailstones.
John smiled at him.
Then, he noticed that several of the adults had broken off into pairs, offering each other spoonfulls as often as they ate from their own bowls.
The councilwoman noticed him looking and smiled. “It is considered good luck to share the bounty of the skies with one’s beloved. Also, it is very romantic.”
“Um…” said John, but she’d left again.
He looked around again, and saw that one of the couples was a pair of women and another were both men, then stepped closer to Rodney.
“So, they have a tradition here,” he said, holding out his spoon.
Rodney shot him a what are you up to? frown, but when John just smiled, he leaned forward to accept the bite of hailstones. “Does this mean we’re married on this planet?”
John shrugged, grinning. “No idea.”
His husband sighed. “Maybe tenth time’s the charm?”
John laughed, and Rodney’s kiss tasted like berry syrup.
THE END
Current Mood:
tired