Welcome! (and "Hallowed Halls")

[melyanna]

Well, what better way to launch a fic community than with fic? ;)

This is a combined effort of myself and Sache8, who wrote the rather beautiful bit with Teyla. Enjoy. :)


As a Ph. D. in applied mathematics, an amateur pilot, an accomplished marksman, and a damn good-looking man, Doctor John Sheppard should not have been afraid of a bunch of girls hovering outside his office.

Right?

As if three hours of explaining Diff EQ to a group of kids who didn’t want math at eight o’clock (yes, in the morning) wasn’t enough, John had to come back for office hours and find them outside the office. He’d had hopes that with his office being moved out of the math building and into the School of Law, for reasons passing understanding, they’d stop. It had been a vain hope. The girls followed him there. But fortunately, he’d managed to find sanctuary in this building.

Doctor Elizabeth Weir, the Dean of the School of Law, had her rather spacious office just down the hall, and when he’d accidentally stumbled (or burst, depending on perspective) into her office while hiding from the co-eds, she’d been so amused that she’d offered to let him come in whenever he needed to. It was an offer he took up at least once a week, though sometimes it was just because he found her more amusing than he’d ever expected.

Today he came in with no pretense at subterfuge, and her assistant, Peter Grodin, waved at him while he held the telephone to his ear. John sauntered up to the desk and waited. Peter finished up in a reasonable amount of time, as phone calls in this office went, and said, “She’s in a meeting.”

John smiled. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that I might stop by just to say hi to you?”

“You? Not likely,” Peter said, standing up to mark something off a board behind his desk. “She had a feeling you’d stop by. You can go ahead and wait in her office.”

“Thanks, Peter,” John replied, heading into the small inner office. Elizabeth had left a can of Coke on her desk, which he promptly started drinking, and her computer was on, so he settled down to a few games of Minesweeper while he waited.

By the time Elizabeth had returned, he’d finished the can and stolen another from her mini fridge, and had his feet propped up on one corner of the desk while attempting to beat the best time. She smiled and shook her head when she walked in, tossing a folder at him. “Hey!” He tossed it back. “Some of us are trying to do serious work here.”

“Mm, yes,” she replied. “Beaten my high score yet?”

“I would have if you hadn’t sabotaged me just now.” He closed the game and took his feet off the desk. “So what were you up to?”

“Meeting with the other deans,” said Elizabeth. She picked up his drink and sipped from it. “One of these days I’m going to tell your dean about how you skip out of your office hours.”

John shrugged. “The ones who need to see me email me about it before they drop by.”

The phone beeped, and Elizabeth reached across the desk to push a button. “Yes, Peter?”

“Doctor Quinn is here,” said the assistant. “He’s looking for Doctor Sheppard.”

Elizabeth looked at John, amused. “Send him in.”

Jonas Quinn entered a moment later, and John immediately loosened his tie. The sight of anyone not in a suit always reminded him that he was wearing a suit, and the reminder was never a pleasant one, no matter who it was. At least Jonas was wearing a tie. Usually he was in jeans. Elizabeth noticed what he’d done almost immediately and shook her head. “How are you, Jonas?” she asked.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Jonas replied. “Just wondering if the two of you are heading over to the statue dedication.”

John resisted the urge to bang his head against the desk. He really, really didn’t want to go to this thing. “Well, unlike the two of you, I can’t get out of it,” Elizabeth said. “Deans don’t have much choice in these things.”

She reached behind John to retrieve her jacket, and he leaned forward to get off it. “I think I can guess where this is going,” he said.

“Come with me and I’ll buy you food.”

“Okay,” Jonas said immediately.

John made a face. “See, Jonas, you’re too easily bribed,” he said. “If you’d just learn to finesse this, you’d get a lot more out of it.”

“Cheesecake?” Elizabeth offered.

John got up. “I’m in.”

On most days, the sight of Jacqueline Hathor would have sent Sam Carter screaming into the night, but at present, the woman had her claws in Rodney McKay, so the biologist’s arrival was surprisingly welcome. It would stop Sam from strangling McKay with an extension cord.

“Doctor McKay,” the redhead said, “the air conditioning’s out in my office again and I can’t wait for Siler and Harriman to get to it. Can you come and do something about it?”

McKay dropped what he was working on (which happened to be a rather delicate sensor) and walked toward the door. “Sure,” he said, without hesitation. The two left as abruptly as Hathor had entered.

Sam rolled her eyes, and the lab’s other occupant laughed. “You do not like Doctor Hathor,” said Radek Zelenka.

“A little less than I like McKay,” Sam replied, looking back at her computer screen.

“You should be nicer to Rodney,” Zelenka said, English syllables tripping lightly through his Czech accent. “He is good scientist.”

“That’s debatable,” she said. “He screamed at a couple of the students today over a mistake he made.”

“I was there, remember?” said Radek. “But you antagonize each other like siblings, and I am like mother hen between you.”

Sam shook her head. “I still like him better than Jacqueline Hathor.”

“That’s not saying much.” He looked at his watch. “The dedication is in ten minutes,” he said. “Are you going?”

Sam glanced around. “Well, I wasn’t planning on it. I’ve got a class to teach this afternoon.”

“Come anyway,” said Radek. “You could use fresh air.”

She took one look around again and shut her computer down. “Hey,” she said, as they left the lab, “do you know if the trustees are going to be there?”

Teyla Emmagen stuffed the last of her gear hastily into her gym bag and zipped it closed. Rushing out of the locker room as quickly as possible, she reflected thankfully on the lack of humidity today. Her hair would dry quickly, especially as she’d just had it cut again.

Practice had run long today. Truth be told, she was always reluctant to leave the haven that had become gymnastics. It had been discovered, in the course of her required phys ed courses, that she had an astounding talent for it, and the rest of the team had welcomed her with an enthusiasm that had been hard to find since she’d begun classes here.

“Hey, Teyla, wait up!”

She slowed her frantic footsteps and turned halfway, to see Aiden Ford, a senior and linebacker on the star football team, break away from his usual gang of friends across the atrium and begin trotting towards her. “I’ll see you there, guys!” he called over his shoulder.

“Good afternoon, Aiden,” Teyla greeted when he caught up.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling widely and breathing a little hard from his jog. He reached out and took both her bags. “Let me get those for you. Where are you going?”

“I am going to Mr. Gifa’s office,” she replied, nodding in the direction she once again began walking. “I have an appointment with him this afternoon and already I am late.”

“Teal’c?” Aiden replied, matching her pace. “That’s cool. Anything wrong?”

“I do not know. It was he who wished to speak to me.” She frowned, and turned her head slightly, a question suddenly springing to mind, something she’d wondered for quite some time. “Aiden, why is he called Teal’c?”

“It’s a nickname. From his football days. Long story. He’s quite a legend around here, you know.”

“I know he is highly respected,” she agreed.

“So, hey,” Aiden said, turning to face her a little more, which was tricky as they were still walking quite briskly, “I saw a little bit of your practice today. You looked really great out there.”

Teyla stared at the cracks in the concrete ahead of her and did her best to hide the flush that threatened to overtake her. She couldn’t fathom why Aiden, with all his cockiness and popularity, was so nice to her, especially when half the student body, heck, half the staff, too, either glared at her in passing or uncomfortably refused to meet her eye.

“Thank you,” she said, overcoming her momentary bashfulness and greeting his grin with a grateful smile of her own. “It has been highly enjoyable.”

“So are you going to this… whatever it is they’re having on the quad?”

“I am not certain. I have a very difficult math exam to study for, and-”

Aiden laughed. “Sheppard’s tests?” he said. At her confused look, he grinned and added, “You haven’t actually had one yet, have you? Trust me, they’re a pushover.”

Teyla smiled kindly at him again, but did not add that she struggled in math more than any other subject. Last semester, she’d barely achieved a low B in her Algebra class, and that was with hours of studying and doing every scrap of extra credit she could convince the professor to allot the class. On the other hand, Doctor Sheppard had been very kind and encouraging so far, though she’d only been in his class for two weeks. Though the material wasn’t coming easy for her, he’d been patient with her and explained things as many times as she’d needed him to. Perhaps Aiden was right.

“I have to admit,” she said, “I’m very curious about this strange construction they’ve been hiding.” She spoke of the large, round object awaiting unveiling for a celebration today in honor of the university’s anniversary. Besides that it was round-shaped, flat, and probably three times taller than Teyla, nobody knew what it looked like. It was covered by a rather unflattering gray tarp, which one of the frat houses had taken upon themselves to dress up a bit. Fortunately, though their rendition of the school mascot was a bit… wobbly, the burgundy and gold paint didn’t clash too terribly with the gray.

“Elliot and Grogan tried to get a peek under the tarp last night.”

“They didn’t!” Teyla’s eyes widened.

Aiden laughed. “Oh yes. Shanahan caught them red-handed. Coach Reynolds is being forced to bench them for one whole game next spring.”

Teyla frowned slightly. “Isn’t that a rather delayed punishment?”

Aiden was still laughing. “Yes,” he agreed, nodding emphatically. “But for those two it certainly cuts the deepest.”

“I agree.” She couldn’t help a small smile of her own from slipping. She shook her head. “Those two…” she muttered.

“Yeah, they’re something else, aren’t they? So will we see you there?”

Teyla hesitated a moment longer. She had other reasons for wanting to avoid such a large public gathering, but on the other hand, it was Aiden that was asking. She wasn’t sure if he meant anything special by it-she never did- but she liked it nonetheless. “All right,” she smiled. “Oh, but I might be a little bit late. I am not sure how long this appointment is going to take.”

“Okay, I’ll save you a spot,” he said, grinning one final time and giving her back her bags. “See you!”

“Thank you!” she called after him. He offered her a wave over his shoulder, as he had his friends beforehand, and then disappeared around a corner.

Teyla made all possible haste to the admissions offices, which weren’t much further now. Her talk with Aiden had carried her most of the way there. It had also served to put her in an extremely good mood, especially after such an enjoyable gymnastics practice. She was having a surprisingly good day.

Mr. Gifa was on the telephone when she arrived, swaying back and forth in his big, high-backed office chair. She stepped hesitantly into the doorway and he waved her in as soon as he saw her, smiling. She put her bags on one of the two remaining chairs and took a seat in the other. She folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently.

“No, Daniel, I don’t know where they put it! Why would I know that? Talk to Siler about it. He’s the groundskeeper.” He rolled his eyes at Teyla and shook his head as his fellow conversationalist said something on the other end. “No, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I have an appointment first, which I can’t get to if you don’t shut up. Goodbye.” Giving an exasperated, half-fond sigh, Gifa put the phone down. “Sorry about that. Doctor Jackson. He has trouble with conciseness.”

Teyla smiled politely. She did not know Doctor Jackson, so she could neither support nor refute this opinion.

“So how are you doing, Teyla?” Mr. Gifa continued, picking up a stack of papers he’d been studying and tapping them together on the desktop. “I’m sorry about the timing. For some reason nobody on my staff realized that this would be the stupidest time of the week to plan anything. But so it goes.”

“It is all right, sir.”

“Cool; I’m glad to hear it. Actually, all I really wanted to ask you is how you’re settling in this semester.”

Teyla opened her mouth to assure him all was well, then closed it uncertainly. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “It has been… much the same as before, Mr. Gifa. But I am able to handle it.”

“People are still giving you a hard time?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

Gifa picked up a ball-point pen and began turning in his chair back and forth again, looking thoughtful. “I’d hoped maybe the situation would calm down after last year’s seniors were gone.”

Teyla considered. “They have not calmed down,” she said carefully, thinking, “but neither have they calmed up.”

Mr. Gifa burst out laughing. Teyla was very confused, and cocked her head to the side, betraying as much. “Sorry, Teyla,” he said a moment later. “I shouldn’t do that. It’d be hypocritical for starters. There’s no such expression as ‘calm up’” he added kindly.

“Oh,” she said, and added a smile of her own. She didn’t mind when the foreign exchange director corrected her English. He was never patronizing about it. “I will remember. Thank you.”

Most of Teyla’s basic English had been learned as a child, but last year, spent entirely on this American college campus, it had improved tremendously. But there were still occasional mistakes here and there.

Mr. Gifa had grown thoughtful again. He sighed heavily. “Teyla, I guess to understand all this, you’d have to know how popular Charlie O’Neill was around here,” he finally said. “Great kid. Fun, talented, nice to hang out with. Plus, with his family being so rich, he was kind of like local royalty. Most people were surprised he even chose to come here. He could’ve afforded Ivy League without a sweat if he’d wanted to. He had the grades and the money.”

Teyla did not comment, only stared at the desktop in carefully controlled silence. Everything she was hearing she already knew. She’d learned enough her freshman year. At least this time around she was prepared. Prepared to face the utter unfairness of the situation. It wasn’t her fault that college in America was the best way to be able to afford getting rest of her family freed from several generations’ worth of poverty in northern Mexico. It wasn’t her fault that Mr. Gifa’s valiant efforts meant Langford was one of literally a handful of American schools she’d been able to legally attend. It wasn’t her fault that this same set of circumstances meant her brother had attended Langford six years ago.

It wasn’t her fault her brother had thrown away his chance by recklessly indulging in too much drink and killing Charlie O’Neill with a car he hadn’t been licensed to drive.

But that didn’t stop some people from shunning her.

She looked up at Mr. Gifa squarely. “I will be fine, I promise you. Things are better this year. I have a few friends now, I am happy with the gymnastics program, and…” she looked up, courage blazing in her eyes, pride set in her shoulders. “I know what to expect this time. I can handle it.”

Mr. Gifa gazed at her shrewdly for a moment, still slouching in his chair, his pen between his fingertips. Then he smiled and nodded respectfully. “I know what it feels like to be an outsider, Teyla. You may not believe me, because it was a very long time ago, but trust me, I know. I want you to know I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling.

“Eh,” he grinned, straightening, and tossing the pen on the desk. “Enough with the sir. Call me Teal’c. Everyone else does.”

“What does it mean?” Teyla couldn’t help asking.

He laughed. “That’s a long story. One we don’t have time for.” He glanced at the clock on his desk. “Are you going to the ceremony?”

“I am,” she nodded.

“Well, I’ve got to get there before they start, or Catherine will have my head. I’ll see you around, Teyla. It was good to see you.”

“Likewise. Thank you, Mr… uh, Teal’c.” The salutation felt very awkward. Then she left, hastening as quickly as she’d arrived, perhaps just a bit more so.

Someone was saving a place for her.

Jack O’Neill hated this kind of thing.

As much as he loved what he was doing now - doing good work across the Midwest in memory of his son - he really despised having to show up at ceremonies. The fact that this one was for some weird work of modern art made it that much more unpleasant.

As he sat up on the dais, listening to Robert Kinsey go on and on and on and on and on about the importance of art (like Jack believed anything that man was saying), he looked out over the audience and wished desperately that he were with them. Then he could stand in the back and talk. Instead, he was sitting next to the Dean of the School of Law. Doctor Weir was hot, sure, but he couldn’t even make sarcastic remarks under his breath. Besides, blondes were more his style.

A light morning breeze fluttered across the Quad of Langford University, and the giant tarp covering the aforementioned weird work of modern art rustled behind him. Kinsey finally shut up, and while they were applauding, Jack leaned over and said, “So what do you think the thing is?”

“Something vaguely circular?” she said, a small smile on her face.

“Very funny, Doctor.”

She probably would have said something else, but President Hayes stepped up to the podium then. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I’m glad to see that so many of you decided to come out today. At this time, it’s my pleasure to introduce a woman who, to most of the students here at Langford University, needs no introduction. Catherine Langford didn’t need to work here, but decided to give back to the community and to the college by joining the staff and running admissions for us for a few decades. Now, in honor of her father’s founding of this school eighty years ago, I ask her to unveil this sculpture, commemorating this institution’s commitment to excellence in all realms of education, her father’s vision.”

Everyone on the dais got up and out of the way as the older woman walked to one end, where she pulled a cord and somehow lifted the giant tarp away. For a long time, Jack just stood there, staring. Some sporadic applause broke out in the audience, but it was quite some time before anyone really moved. It was a giant stone ring, with strange carvings on it, and Jack couldn’t stop staring.

After a while, the bells chimed, and the students started to disperse. The deans and the other trustees finally walked down the steps to the grass, where a small crowd of professors was still gathered. Doctor Sheppard of the math department was the first one to say anything. “What is this, Tolkien?” he asked.

“I was going to go with Wagner,” said Jack.

“I was going to go with weird,” Sam Carter said.

“I agree with Doctor Carter,” said Zelenka.

“I agree with Doctor Zelenka,” said Doctor Weir.

“The artist is a guy named Nicholas Ballard,” said Doctor Jackson, at the other end of the line. “Funny, that’s my grandfather’s name. Anyway, they say he’s crazy.”

“Yeah, well,” Jack said, “he’d have to be.”

When the bells chimed the quarter of the hour, they were still staring.