Fic: Negotiations (G) - Woolsey, Atlantis, Team
Title: Negotiations
Author: melagan
Characters/Pairing: Woolsey, Atlantis , Team
Rating: G
Beta: mischief5
Word Count: 1500
Written for SGA Love over on sga_smooch
He was tired of doors closing on him then refusing to open. That wasn't all he was tired of. Woolsey held back a sigh. Once more, he found himself transported to the wrong place in the city. He hadn't even known this level existed. He looked around at the high ceilings and bare walls. It was a nice view, he supposed, but not where he needed to be. This had to stop. Woolsey adjusted his jacket zipper and carefully did not grit his teeth. He was an experienced negotiator. Surely, he could use that, once he found out what the city wanted from him.
"I wonder if Dr. Weir ever had this problem?" he muttered under his breath, while pressing his destination on the transport map. She'd certainly never said or put it in it her reports. No matter, she wasn't here now and he already knew he needed to make his own compromise with Atlantis.
Back at his desk, Woolsey opened a file folder. He had an entire list of incidents - in alphabetical order and subcategorized by date. Ronon and Teyla didn't have the ATA gene, yet they had no difficulties. Dr. McKay had the gene therapy and it worked fine for him. Woolsey drew a line through the word Personality. Obviously that wasn't a factor. As far as Col. Sheppard went, he was in a category so far beyond the rest of them he had his own file. Brow furrowed in displeasure, he snapped the folder shut. "Atlantis? Are you there?" he called out, refusing to feel inhibited by speaking to an empty room. He wasn't at all surprised when he didn't receive an answer.
He considered his options. He could ask Col. Sheppard to intercede. However, if he did, he'd have to admit he had problem. He much preferred to try to solve this on his own. Feeling Sheppard out hadn't been much help anyway. When Woolsey asked him how he kept on the city's good side, John's reply came with a head duck and an aw-shucks expression. "She likes me, what can I say? Hey, you might ask Rodney." John stopped just short of punching Woolsey in the arm. "McKay knows the city systems better than anyone."
~*~
"Dr. McKay, may I have a word?" Woolsey asked. His palms felt sweaty but he resisted wiping them off on his trousers. After all, none of the onlookers need know it was no coincidence he'd come by the mess during the McKay's break.
"Hm? Yes, of course." Rodney waved toward the seat next to him. "Sit down. You should try the butterscotch pudding today. The cooks did something different with it and it's quite good. You'd never know it's made from not-yak milk." He scraped the last of it out of his bowl and licked the spoon. "Some kind of vanilla…" Woolsey knew the exact moment it finally to occurred to McKay that he was talking to his boss. Rodney quickly put the spoon down. "Can I help you with something?"
"I hope so, Dr. McKay. I need you to access the appropriate systems and let her-Atlantis-know that I'd like to open negotiations."
"Really?" Rodney looked pole-axed. Recovering quickly, he added, "Will this afternoon be soon enough?"
"Very good." Woolsey tugged on the hem of his jacket, although it couldn't get any straighter. "I'll just be going then." Stiffly, he turned and left the room.
Things seemed settled. He had a few hours to wait still. Several teams were getting ready to head off-world including Sheppard and McKay, many of the scientists were busy with their individual projects, and consequently he had some leisure time to himself. Woolsey decided to take advantage of it to organize his case. He never made it back to his office. Instead, the transporter doors opened onto the ZPM room. Despite his best efforts, the transporter doors refused to close, leaving him stuck. With a slump to his shoulders and discouraged sigh, Woolsey stepped out of the transporter to look for the nearest stairway.
He halted dead in his tracks at the sight of a Wraith bent over the ZPM. He would not panic. Heart racing, Woolsey crouched down out of sight. He had to do something but he didn't dare call for help. He was certain the Wraith would hear him if he tried.
He ignored the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. It was only a matter of time until the Wraith noticed him. Woolsey watched as the Wraith attempted to attach a palm-sized device to the ZPM housing. The longer he watched, the more incensed he became. This nasty creature wanted to hurt his city and his people. He had nothing to fight with -no weapons - no combat skills. But Woolsey had words and he could buy time.
Standing on shaky knees, he tapped his radio to open a channel. Chuck would be listening in and Woolsey had to trust that someone would come to his-their-rescue in time.
Without even the comfort of his leather briefcase to hold on to, he cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but you don't have permission to be here. In fact, I'm quite sure that whatever it is you're doing puts me well within my rights to have our military take punitive action."
The Wraith snarled at him but didn't slow his sabotage attempt.
"See here, you-you need to stop that right now!" Woolsey stared at his own finger as he pointed at the Wraith, mouth dropping to a soft oh. Dear God, was he an idiot? The creature was staring right at him now. Well, at least he had its attention.
Woolsey backed up a step. The Wraith was reaching out an arm, its long, clawed fingers grasping for him, more threat than real attempt to grab him.
As a delaying tactic, it was working. Woolsey was feeling rather proud of himself when a worse thought occurred to him. Aware his radio was still on, he began to babble, "That's not a bomb is it? Is that your plan? You're going to destroy everything. You can't. Don't you have any idea what a marvel this place is?"
The Wraith smiled at him, baring all of his teeth in an unholy grimace.
Squaring his shoulders, Woolsey smiled back. It was his courtroom smile. "You're not getting my… my city." He drew himself up to his full height. "I'm not letting you destroy her." He put on his best give-no-quarter expression. "I believe your kind have a queen to answer to. As I understand it, she doesn't just maintain your laws, she is the law, and laws can be altered. They can, with due cause, be written off the books. Ah, I thought that might get your attention."
The Wraith took a step toward him and Woolsey squeezed his eyes shut. There was nowhere to run. He wondered how much it would hurt when the hum of Ronon's weapon fire snapped him to attention. "Ronon?"
"We've got it from here," Sheppard said. He put a burst of bullets into the Wraith's chest.
"Don't hit the ZPM!" Rodney yelled, already making his way over to where the alien device pulsed with a sick, green glow.
"You made it in time," Woolsey said with relief. "I wasn't sure…"
"We came as soon as we could," Teyla said, putting her body between Woolsey and the Wraith's, her P-90 held the ready.
"You came. All of you." Woolsey blinked. For the first time since arriving on Atlantis, he was beginning to get it. "Goodness." Pulling himself together, he gave AR-1 a nod. "Good work. I'll write the report up on this one myself."
"Un-huh," John said. "Don't leave out the part where you're the hero."
Flabbergasted, Woolsey said, "I'm not - I didn't do anything."
"You kept the Wraith contained until we could kill it," Ronon said.
"And," Rodney added, "you kept it distracted long enough so that it didn't blow us all up."
Teyla patted his arm fondly. "All of us will contribute to your report so that nothing is forgotten."
With nothing left to do, Woolsey headed back to his quarters. The transporter took him there without fuss and the doors opened smoothly when he arrived. The point wasn't lost on him, not then and not when his shower held the perfect temperature or when his favorite music began playing.
He dressed in his favorite suit and tie and opened a bottle of wine. With the bottle and two wine glasses in hand, he went out on the balcony. He poured a drink for himself and set the second carefully on the railing. "A toast is in order." He raised his glass. One by one, lights came on in the surrounding towers. They made a soft glow in the sky against the dusk of the evening.
Now, what to toast? If he toasted to us, that implied a certain intimacy. If he toasted to Teamwork, well, that came close but still wasn't quite the right sentiment either. He remembered knowing without a doubt in his mind that Atlantis hadn't taken him to the ZPM room by accident. It made him bold. Woolsey smiled into the night, gazed at the lights welcoming him home, and raised his glass. "To family."
~*~
Author: melagan
Characters/Pairing: Woolsey, Atlantis , Team
Rating: G
Beta: mischief5
Word Count: 1500
Written for SGA Love over on sga_smooch
He was tired of doors closing on him then refusing to open. That wasn't all he was tired of. Woolsey held back a sigh. Once more, he found himself transported to the wrong place in the city. He hadn't even known this level existed. He looked around at the high ceilings and bare walls. It was a nice view, he supposed, but not where he needed to be. This had to stop. Woolsey adjusted his jacket zipper and carefully did not grit his teeth. He was an experienced negotiator. Surely, he could use that, once he found out what the city wanted from him.
"I wonder if Dr. Weir ever had this problem?" he muttered under his breath, while pressing his destination on the transport map. She'd certainly never said or put it in it her reports. No matter, she wasn't here now and he already knew he needed to make his own compromise with Atlantis.
Back at his desk, Woolsey opened a file folder. He had an entire list of incidents - in alphabetical order and subcategorized by date. Ronon and Teyla didn't have the ATA gene, yet they had no difficulties. Dr. McKay had the gene therapy and it worked fine for him. Woolsey drew a line through the word Personality. Obviously that wasn't a factor. As far as Col. Sheppard went, he was in a category so far beyond the rest of them he had his own file. Brow furrowed in displeasure, he snapped the folder shut. "Atlantis? Are you there?" he called out, refusing to feel inhibited by speaking to an empty room. He wasn't at all surprised when he didn't receive an answer.
He considered his options. He could ask Col. Sheppard to intercede. However, if he did, he'd have to admit he had problem. He much preferred to try to solve this on his own. Feeling Sheppard out hadn't been much help anyway. When Woolsey asked him how he kept on the city's good side, John's reply came with a head duck and an aw-shucks expression. "She likes me, what can I say? Hey, you might ask Rodney." John stopped just short of punching Woolsey in the arm. "McKay knows the city systems better than anyone."
~*~
"Dr. McKay, may I have a word?" Woolsey asked. His palms felt sweaty but he resisted wiping them off on his trousers. After all, none of the onlookers need know it was no coincidence he'd come by the mess during the McKay's break.
"Hm? Yes, of course." Rodney waved toward the seat next to him. "Sit down. You should try the butterscotch pudding today. The cooks did something different with it and it's quite good. You'd never know it's made from not-yak milk." He scraped the last of it out of his bowl and licked the spoon. "Some kind of vanilla…" Woolsey knew the exact moment it finally to occurred to McKay that he was talking to his boss. Rodney quickly put the spoon down. "Can I help you with something?"
"I hope so, Dr. McKay. I need you to access the appropriate systems and let her-Atlantis-know that I'd like to open negotiations."
"Really?" Rodney looked pole-axed. Recovering quickly, he added, "Will this afternoon be soon enough?"
"Very good." Woolsey tugged on the hem of his jacket, although it couldn't get any straighter. "I'll just be going then." Stiffly, he turned and left the room.
Things seemed settled. He had a few hours to wait still. Several teams were getting ready to head off-world including Sheppard and McKay, many of the scientists were busy with their individual projects, and consequently he had some leisure time to himself. Woolsey decided to take advantage of it to organize his case. He never made it back to his office. Instead, the transporter doors opened onto the ZPM room. Despite his best efforts, the transporter doors refused to close, leaving him stuck. With a slump to his shoulders and discouraged sigh, Woolsey stepped out of the transporter to look for the nearest stairway.
He halted dead in his tracks at the sight of a Wraith bent over the ZPM. He would not panic. Heart racing, Woolsey crouched down out of sight. He had to do something but he didn't dare call for help. He was certain the Wraith would hear him if he tried.
He ignored the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. It was only a matter of time until the Wraith noticed him. Woolsey watched as the Wraith attempted to attach a palm-sized device to the ZPM housing. The longer he watched, the more incensed he became. This nasty creature wanted to hurt his city and his people. He had nothing to fight with -no weapons - no combat skills. But Woolsey had words and he could buy time.
Standing on shaky knees, he tapped his radio to open a channel. Chuck would be listening in and Woolsey had to trust that someone would come to his-their-rescue in time.
Without even the comfort of his leather briefcase to hold on to, he cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but you don't have permission to be here. In fact, I'm quite sure that whatever it is you're doing puts me well within my rights to have our military take punitive action."
The Wraith snarled at him but didn't slow his sabotage attempt.
"See here, you-you need to stop that right now!" Woolsey stared at his own finger as he pointed at the Wraith, mouth dropping to a soft oh. Dear God, was he an idiot? The creature was staring right at him now. Well, at least he had its attention.
Woolsey backed up a step. The Wraith was reaching out an arm, its long, clawed fingers grasping for him, more threat than real attempt to grab him.
As a delaying tactic, it was working. Woolsey was feeling rather proud of himself when a worse thought occurred to him. Aware his radio was still on, he began to babble, "That's not a bomb is it? Is that your plan? You're going to destroy everything. You can't. Don't you have any idea what a marvel this place is?"
The Wraith smiled at him, baring all of his teeth in an unholy grimace.
Squaring his shoulders, Woolsey smiled back. It was his courtroom smile. "You're not getting my… my city." He drew himself up to his full height. "I'm not letting you destroy her." He put on his best give-no-quarter expression. "I believe your kind have a queen to answer to. As I understand it, she doesn't just maintain your laws, she is the law, and laws can be altered. They can, with due cause, be written off the books. Ah, I thought that might get your attention."
The Wraith took a step toward him and Woolsey squeezed his eyes shut. There was nowhere to run. He wondered how much it would hurt when the hum of Ronon's weapon fire snapped him to attention. "Ronon?"
"We've got it from here," Sheppard said. He put a burst of bullets into the Wraith's chest.
"Don't hit the ZPM!" Rodney yelled, already making his way over to where the alien device pulsed with a sick, green glow.
"You made it in time," Woolsey said with relief. "I wasn't sure…"
"We came as soon as we could," Teyla said, putting her body between Woolsey and the Wraith's, her P-90 held the ready.
"You came. All of you." Woolsey blinked. For the first time since arriving on Atlantis, he was beginning to get it. "Goodness." Pulling himself together, he gave AR-1 a nod. "Good work. I'll write the report up on this one myself."
"Un-huh," John said. "Don't leave out the part where you're the hero."
Flabbergasted, Woolsey said, "I'm not - I didn't do anything."
"You kept the Wraith contained until we could kill it," Ronon said.
"And," Rodney added, "you kept it distracted long enough so that it didn't blow us all up."
Teyla patted his arm fondly. "All of us will contribute to your report so that nothing is forgotten."
With nothing left to do, Woolsey headed back to his quarters. The transporter took him there without fuss and the doors opened smoothly when he arrived. The point wasn't lost on him, not then and not when his shower held the perfect temperature or when his favorite music began playing.
He dressed in his favorite suit and tie and opened a bottle of wine. With the bottle and two wine glasses in hand, he went out on the balcony. He poured a drink for himself and set the second carefully on the railing. "A toast is in order." He raised his glass. One by one, lights came on in the surrounding towers. They made a soft glow in the sky against the dusk of the evening.
Now, what to toast? If he toasted to us, that implied a certain intimacy. If he toasted to Teamwork, well, that came close but still wasn't quite the right sentiment either. He remembered knowing without a doubt in his mind that Atlantis hadn't taken him to the ZPM room by accident. It made him bold. Woolsey smiled into the night, gazed at the lights welcoming him home, and raised his glass. "To family."
~*~