New Year Drabble: Not a Creature was Stirring (SGA)
(this one truly got away from me - every time I tried to end it, the characters just kept doing stuff!)
Title: Not a Creature was Stirring
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Ronon
Word Count: 2022
Prompt: slightly
For slightlyjillian who asked for one of my New Year drabbles
Author’s Note: While Ronon is my favorite character, this is my first attempt at writing him. After the end of the show, I like to assume this is the direction they were headed in.
There had been talk, among the Earth people, of a Christmas celebration on Atlantis this year now that they were in the San Francisco Bay. It was the one holiday they could all agree on, after all. Even Rodney couldn’t find a reason he wasn’t able to celebrate. Even though he had plenty of reasons why he didn’t believe in what he considered the myth of the Christ child, it was a holiday even Canadians celebrated. Also, there was rumor that Jenifer had mentioned she was excited about getting a present that wasn’t clothing and other practical necessities she normally received from her relatives. That alone was sending the already excitable Science Officer into a frenzy of nervous anticipation.
Ronon hadn’t given it much thought when it was first being talked about. Whenever he was with the group and they began making plans, he thought of something else. Usually his last training session. There was always something in his routine that he was modifying these days, trying to keep as fit and ready for the inevitable Wraith attack. The ideas never left him, vying for attention over the more mundane day-to-day proceedings of the base.
Besides, he didn’t like having to think about celebrations that centered around family. The demise of his own still weighed on him. It was enough, for day to day operations, that he had this group of friends to rely on but he still didn’t dare let them try to fill the ache he felt when he brought up the memories of what he had lost when his world had been destroyed. With most everyone on Atlantis now on their home planet within much easier reach of those they loved that lived off-base, it made Ronon feel that much more alone.
“Would you like my help with the wrapping of your presents?” Teyla asked quietly one day while Rodney and John debated what the tree would look like.
Ronon thought it a rather stupid argument when they had plenty of trees all around them, thanks to the botany team that worked to keep the oxygen levels as high as possible without sapping anymore of the life support system than needed. They could just use one of those, instead of bringing in a strange new tree that would be decorated for no apparent purpose other than to look pretty while they opened gaudily-wrapped presents.
“Presents? Why would I need to wrap presents?”
She narrowed her eyes at him as she did when trying to assess a new situation. It always bothered him when she did it to him, though. “Aren’t you going to participate in the exchange of gifts? From what John has told me, it’s intended to be a gathering for everyone. Not just the people of Earth.”
This gave him pause. He’d heard the invitation but hadn’t really thought it had been directed at him. This wasn’t the sort of thing he enjoyed. No one would be hitting anyone and guns would be discouraged. Not his idea of a good time.
“You don’t mind these Earth traditions? They aren’t anything like ours.”
Teyla lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug that always belied the exalted position that circumstance had taken away from her. “They are similar enough to various events I’ve participated in. I see no harm in learning of these new customs. They’ve had to learn so many of ours, after all.”
“True.” Before she could try to convince him to join in, he nodded once as if the conversation was over and left the room.
For the next few days, Ronon was careful to stay away from the groups of people decorating many of the public areas of Atlantis or to get pulled into any conversations about what foods should be prepared for Christmas dinner. He growled at anyone that dared look at him twice just in case they might ask him to join in on an expedition into the city across the harbor.
There was something that he’d heard that intrigued him. From what he could tell, it was a silly children’s rhyme about the elf that supposedly snuck into each and every house on Earth while people slept and left presents for anyone that had been good during the year.
“How sad that St. Nick won’t be able to find us this year,” Amelia had sighed, a dopey smile on her face as they’d vied to see who could remember the exact words of the poem.
Ronon hadn’t been able to resist. “He’s a fat, lazy bastard. You want him sneaking onto Atlantis? Seems to me that would mean that someone’s not doing her job adequately.”
“Well, no. I just meant…” but she’d never finished her stuttered reply, John coming to her rescue with a withering look and the story of how Santa had brought him a slightly battered catcher’s mitt when he was seven. Ronon never did find how the story ended, or what a catcher’s mitt was, as he decided his presence was no longer desired.
But Amelia had looked so wistful there for those few seconds. He had been rude and arrogant, something everyone assumed he would be. What would happen if he did something unexpected? With that thought, the plan was set.
On the night before Christmas, it was business as usual on the base. That had been lamented by most but was inevitable. There was only time for one party and it would be reserved for the day when it was the most deserved. Ronon stayed in the training room until, working up a good sweat but not really doing any specific. It would look like he was busy if anyone checked in on him, which no one did.
As the lights dimmed in the public walkways, Ronan went to get his sack of goodies. He despised how much it looked like he was trying to mimic the jolly old elf too much but it wasn’t to be helped. There was no other way to get all the packages from his rooms in one go. At each door, he patiently checked the life signs reading before keying in the all-access entry code. When it was safe to enter, he placed a wrapped package just inside the doorway. This St. Nick character routinely put his at the bottom of each person’s bed but he didn’t have that sort of time. The morning shift would be waking soon and there would be more people walking the halls.
At the last room on his list, he did venture in further. He’d never been to Amelia’s rooms. Their relationship was nowhere near that step but he often wondered if she was open to it getting there quicker. He’d know in a few seconds.
Stowing the empty bag on a chair, he took the present with him into her sleeping chambers. His plan had just been to put it on the table next to the bed and leave, innocent of all deeds. No one was supposed to know he’d been the one to play gift-giver. He would need a new plan now. Amelia’s eyes were wide open, her service revolver pointed at his heart. Very slowly, so as not to give her any reason to actually fire, he put his hands in front of him.
Her eyes flickered to his hands and back up to his eyes. “What are you doing in my room, Ronon Dex?” He lifted his hand to indicate the present as his reasoning. “And that’s supposed to keep me from shooting you?”
“Merry Christmas?”
He could see the smile fighting to make an appearance. “I thought you weren’t interested in such a silly holiday?”
“Never said that.”
“You said as much with your frowns and irritated silences.”
Her hand had dropped a fraction of an inch while she was talking so he felt that he could take a fraction of a second to look away from the weapon. At this point, he certainly hoped she wasn’t going to shoot him. Most people would do it just out of spite. He would have.
The quick glance was well worth any hole she might make in him. As he’d always expected, she slept in a thin shift that hid very little. It was enough to make him choke on his tongue as he attempted to breathe.
“So you’re playing at St. Nicholas? Hoping to leave a present for a good, little girl?” She had apparently decided to speak for him in his continued silence. “You’re not some fat, lazy bastard up for some breaking and entering as a form of recreation?”
“I’m playing along,” he attempted. “Giving my friends what they’re missing.”
Amelia contemplated that for a moment, staring at him in the straight forward way she had. He was still unsure how she felt about his sudden appearance. Something drained out of her eyes as she stiffened slightly. “So this wasn’t just for me?”
He would have taken back his words if he could. It had never dawned on him to lie and tell her she was the only one he’d visited but now he wished he’d thought quick enough to make it seem that way. It would have been an insult to lie to her, though.
“I left everyone else’s right inside their door. You’re the only one that I ventured further. With the reception I got here, that was probably a good idea. I don’t think I could have done this more than once.”
“Why me?”
This time he thought before he spoke, weighing each word carefully. “Because I was hoping you’d be awake. I wanted to watch you unwrap it.” Once again he held out the small package to her. When she didn’t take it, he sat it very gently on her bed. She was, after all, still holding the gun pointed at him. “But I can leave it for later.”
“If I’m awake, Santa isn’t supposed to stop.” She smiled at him, the slow easy smile that he adored. “So I better get back to sleep just in case someone else comes by with boxes for me.”
Ronon grinned back at her. Taking a step back, he bowed. “I’ll leave you to your rest. Merry Christmas.”
He was almost to the main door when she hollered his name. Walking back, he stood expectantly in the doorway. The gun was no longer visible. Instead, she’d scooted over to one side of the bed. “You’d better be asleep soon, too. It’s too late to be wandering the corridors. You might get shot.”
“I’d hate that.”
“So would I.” Amelia patted the bed next to her. “You might as well stay here. I’m sure your presents will end up in the right place. Santa Clause is good at finding people.”
He couldn’t ask for a better present. Or one so nicely wrapped. Sitting on the side of the bed to pull off his boots, he watched her out of the corner of his eye to make sure this was truly what she’d had in mind. When she didn’t look shocked or pull back, he very carefully stretched out beside her. She waited for him to settle before leaning down to kiss him, a chaste peck compared to what he’d imagined when he was finally here. It was a gift he wasn’t going to turn down.
“Merry Christmas, Ronon Dex. I should have known I was going to get my Christmas wish. I’ve been a very good girl this year.”
“Have you?” He tangled his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her down to his lips again. “I think you’re going to have to make do with this present because you may not get to fall asleep again tonight.”
She just smiled at him, telling him with her eyes that she didn’t care about any other presents. If he’d known it would be this easy to find her something she’d like, he wouldn’t have spent all that time stressing over the necklace in the now forgotten present. “Happy Christmas to all,” he muttered as he pulled her close again, “and to all a good night.”
Title: Not a Creature was Stirring
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Ronon
Word Count: 2022
Prompt: slightly
For slightlyjillian who asked for one of my New Year drabbles
Author’s Note: While Ronon is my favorite character, this is my first attempt at writing him. After the end of the show, I like to assume this is the direction they were headed in.
There had been talk, among the Earth people, of a Christmas celebration on Atlantis this year now that they were in the San Francisco Bay. It was the one holiday they could all agree on, after all. Even Rodney couldn’t find a reason he wasn’t able to celebrate. Even though he had plenty of reasons why he didn’t believe in what he considered the myth of the Christ child, it was a holiday even Canadians celebrated. Also, there was rumor that Jenifer had mentioned she was excited about getting a present that wasn’t clothing and other practical necessities she normally received from her relatives. That alone was sending the already excitable Science Officer into a frenzy of nervous anticipation.
Ronon hadn’t given it much thought when it was first being talked about. Whenever he was with the group and they began making plans, he thought of something else. Usually his last training session. There was always something in his routine that he was modifying these days, trying to keep as fit and ready for the inevitable Wraith attack. The ideas never left him, vying for attention over the more mundane day-to-day proceedings of the base.
Besides, he didn’t like having to think about celebrations that centered around family. The demise of his own still weighed on him. It was enough, for day to day operations, that he had this group of friends to rely on but he still didn’t dare let them try to fill the ache he felt when he brought up the memories of what he had lost when his world had been destroyed. With most everyone on Atlantis now on their home planet within much easier reach of those they loved that lived off-base, it made Ronon feel that much more alone.
“Would you like my help with the wrapping of your presents?” Teyla asked quietly one day while Rodney and John debated what the tree would look like.
Ronon thought it a rather stupid argument when they had plenty of trees all around them, thanks to the botany team that worked to keep the oxygen levels as high as possible without sapping anymore of the life support system than needed. They could just use one of those, instead of bringing in a strange new tree that would be decorated for no apparent purpose other than to look pretty while they opened gaudily-wrapped presents.
“Presents? Why would I need to wrap presents?”
She narrowed her eyes at him as she did when trying to assess a new situation. It always bothered him when she did it to him, though. “Aren’t you going to participate in the exchange of gifts? From what John has told me, it’s intended to be a gathering for everyone. Not just the people of Earth.”
This gave him pause. He’d heard the invitation but hadn’t really thought it had been directed at him. This wasn’t the sort of thing he enjoyed. No one would be hitting anyone and guns would be discouraged. Not his idea of a good time.
“You don’t mind these Earth traditions? They aren’t anything like ours.”
Teyla lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug that always belied the exalted position that circumstance had taken away from her. “They are similar enough to various events I’ve participated in. I see no harm in learning of these new customs. They’ve had to learn so many of ours, after all.”
“True.” Before she could try to convince him to join in, he nodded once as if the conversation was over and left the room.
For the next few days, Ronon was careful to stay away from the groups of people decorating many of the public areas of Atlantis or to get pulled into any conversations about what foods should be prepared for Christmas dinner. He growled at anyone that dared look at him twice just in case they might ask him to join in on an expedition into the city across the harbor.
There was something that he’d heard that intrigued him. From what he could tell, it was a silly children’s rhyme about the elf that supposedly snuck into each and every house on Earth while people slept and left presents for anyone that had been good during the year.
“How sad that St. Nick won’t be able to find us this year,” Amelia had sighed, a dopey smile on her face as they’d vied to see who could remember the exact words of the poem.
Ronon hadn’t been able to resist. “He’s a fat, lazy bastard. You want him sneaking onto Atlantis? Seems to me that would mean that someone’s not doing her job adequately.”
“Well, no. I just meant…” but she’d never finished her stuttered reply, John coming to her rescue with a withering look and the story of how Santa had brought him a slightly battered catcher’s mitt when he was seven. Ronon never did find how the story ended, or what a catcher’s mitt was, as he decided his presence was no longer desired.
But Amelia had looked so wistful there for those few seconds. He had been rude and arrogant, something everyone assumed he would be. What would happen if he did something unexpected? With that thought, the plan was set.
On the night before Christmas, it was business as usual on the base. That had been lamented by most but was inevitable. There was only time for one party and it would be reserved for the day when it was the most deserved. Ronon stayed in the training room until, working up a good sweat but not really doing any specific. It would look like he was busy if anyone checked in on him, which no one did.
As the lights dimmed in the public walkways, Ronan went to get his sack of goodies. He despised how much it looked like he was trying to mimic the jolly old elf too much but it wasn’t to be helped. There was no other way to get all the packages from his rooms in one go. At each door, he patiently checked the life signs reading before keying in the all-access entry code. When it was safe to enter, he placed a wrapped package just inside the doorway. This St. Nick character routinely put his at the bottom of each person’s bed but he didn’t have that sort of time. The morning shift would be waking soon and there would be more people walking the halls.
At the last room on his list, he did venture in further. He’d never been to Amelia’s rooms. Their relationship was nowhere near that step but he often wondered if she was open to it getting there quicker. He’d know in a few seconds.
Stowing the empty bag on a chair, he took the present with him into her sleeping chambers. His plan had just been to put it on the table next to the bed and leave, innocent of all deeds. No one was supposed to know he’d been the one to play gift-giver. He would need a new plan now. Amelia’s eyes were wide open, her service revolver pointed at his heart. Very slowly, so as not to give her any reason to actually fire, he put his hands in front of him.
Her eyes flickered to his hands and back up to his eyes. “What are you doing in my room, Ronon Dex?” He lifted his hand to indicate the present as his reasoning. “And that’s supposed to keep me from shooting you?”
“Merry Christmas?”
He could see the smile fighting to make an appearance. “I thought you weren’t interested in such a silly holiday?”
“Never said that.”
“You said as much with your frowns and irritated silences.”
Her hand had dropped a fraction of an inch while she was talking so he felt that he could take a fraction of a second to look away from the weapon. At this point, he certainly hoped she wasn’t going to shoot him. Most people would do it just out of spite. He would have.
The quick glance was well worth any hole she might make in him. As he’d always expected, she slept in a thin shift that hid very little. It was enough to make him choke on his tongue as he attempted to breathe.
“So you’re playing at St. Nicholas? Hoping to leave a present for a good, little girl?” She had apparently decided to speak for him in his continued silence. “You’re not some fat, lazy bastard up for some breaking and entering as a form of recreation?”
“I’m playing along,” he attempted. “Giving my friends what they’re missing.”
Amelia contemplated that for a moment, staring at him in the straight forward way she had. He was still unsure how she felt about his sudden appearance. Something drained out of her eyes as she stiffened slightly. “So this wasn’t just for me?”
He would have taken back his words if he could. It had never dawned on him to lie and tell her she was the only one he’d visited but now he wished he’d thought quick enough to make it seem that way. It would have been an insult to lie to her, though.
“I left everyone else’s right inside their door. You’re the only one that I ventured further. With the reception I got here, that was probably a good idea. I don’t think I could have done this more than once.”
“Why me?”
This time he thought before he spoke, weighing each word carefully. “Because I was hoping you’d be awake. I wanted to watch you unwrap it.” Once again he held out the small package to her. When she didn’t take it, he sat it very gently on her bed. She was, after all, still holding the gun pointed at him. “But I can leave it for later.”
“If I’m awake, Santa isn’t supposed to stop.” She smiled at him, the slow easy smile that he adored. “So I better get back to sleep just in case someone else comes by with boxes for me.”
Ronon grinned back at her. Taking a step back, he bowed. “I’ll leave you to your rest. Merry Christmas.”
He was almost to the main door when she hollered his name. Walking back, he stood expectantly in the doorway. The gun was no longer visible. Instead, she’d scooted over to one side of the bed. “You’d better be asleep soon, too. It’s too late to be wandering the corridors. You might get shot.”
“I’d hate that.”
“So would I.” Amelia patted the bed next to her. “You might as well stay here. I’m sure your presents will end up in the right place. Santa Clause is good at finding people.”
He couldn’t ask for a better present. Or one so nicely wrapped. Sitting on the side of the bed to pull off his boots, he watched her out of the corner of his eye to make sure this was truly what she’d had in mind. When she didn’t look shocked or pull back, he very carefully stretched out beside her. She waited for him to settle before leaning down to kiss him, a chaste peck compared to what he’d imagined when he was finally here. It was a gift he wasn’t going to turn down.
“Merry Christmas, Ronon Dex. I should have known I was going to get my Christmas wish. I’ve been a very good girl this year.”
“Have you?” He tangled his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her down to his lips again. “I think you’re going to have to make do with this present because you may not get to fall asleep again tonight.”
She just smiled at him, telling him with her eyes that she didn’t care about any other presents. If he’d known it would be this easy to find her something she’d like, he wouldn’t have spent all that time stressing over the necklace in the now forgotten present. “Happy Christmas to all,” he muttered as he pulled her close again, “and to all a good night.”