Fic: Just a Little Ritual (SGA)
Just a Little Ritual
By Shaddyr
Rating: G
Characters: Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, Ronon
Disclaimer: Oh dear GOD, why can't they be MINE?
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1000
Note: So there was this pendant, which led to this challenge. And then the ever-so-talented taste_is_sweet wrote a comment fic called I'm Not Wearing That in response - yay! You *REALLY* should read that one first... Then beadattitude got into the act with her comments and speculations, and the next thing I know, John started whispering in my ear about tutus and fairy wings. It's *so* not my fault.
Summary: Revenge. Cold. Nuff said.
John made his way to the Grand Hall. It was a riot of colour and sound, and the smell of the feast about to be served was mouth-wateringly delicious. As he walked in, he saw there was a live orchestra playing, and noticed a raised dance floor in the center of the room surrounded on three sides by tables.
"This way please, Colonel Sheppard," came a voice from behind his right shoulder. He turned his head to see one of the Ph'leans gesturing for him to follow. He was quickly ushered toward the head table and seated with Teyla and Ronon. John settled in, then rifled through one of the pockets of his vest to pull out a digital camera. He set it on table in front of him.
Teyla looked at it curiously. "I have never seen you take photographs at occasions such as this before, John."
"Well, I think tonight's entertainment is going to require documentation."
She gave him a puzzled look, but he didn't offer any more explanation.
"Where's McKay?" Ronon grunted as he snagged an appetizer from the tray in front of them.
He explained. "While Teyla was hammering out the final bits of the treaty last week, I was with McKay over at their power plant. He was ranting about how half the people working there were barely literate that it would take him months to get the plant up to par - you know."
"The usual," snorted Ronon as he grabbed something that looked like a crab cake and popped it in his mouth.
"Yeah. So, one of their tech guys came over to me while McKay had his head stuck in a generator and told me how grateful they were, and how they really wanted to honour us. He asked if I would participate in some traditional ritual. And since rituals are so often of the bad here in Pegasus, I asked for a little more clarification." He stopped, toyed with the camera for a moment, then grabbed an appetizer for himself.
When he showed no inclination to continue, Teyla let out a sigh. It was as close to exasperation as John had ever seen. "And what did you learn?"
A look of devilish glee crept over his features. "I'm so glad you asked. The tech guy got the Minister of Trade to tell me all about it, in detail. It's called the sacred Dre Danna, and only those who are most honoured are invited to participate. So, I told her that McKay was the one of us who deserved to be honoured the most. Well she just thought that was fantastic, and begged him to participate. And you know that McKay can't say no to a hot blonde with legs like hers."
"The Dre..." Teyla's eyes went wide as her jaw dropped, and it took her a moment to find her voice. "Oh John! You didn't!"
Ronon did a double take before collapsing into deep, body shaking guffaws.
John just waggled his eyebrows. "Oh yes. I did."
15 minutes earlier
It was the very best kind of revenge, served so cold that McKay hadn't even clued in. Yet. John forced down the smile of anticipation.
McKay looked kind of like Tinkerbell when John thought about it, the gossamer material forming decorative, fairy-like wings that stretched out several inches from each shoulder. The make-up and glitter just added to the effect.
John tried not to smirk, but it was difficult. McKay scowled at him. "What? You think this is funny? This is *not* funny!"
"You're covered in *pixie dust*, McKay. I'm sorry, but it is kind of amusing."
"This is unbelievable!" McKay was red-faced as he continued to rant at John about the Ph'leans who were trying to honour him and the insanity of Pegasus galaxy in general. "I can't *DO* this!"
He looked at John, desperation in his face. "Sheppard! You have to get me out of this! Tell them I've gone into anaphylactic shock, that I'm allergic to the glitter! Something!"
"Now, Rodney," John drawled out, "It's not that bad. We really don't want to lose this trade agreement with the Ph'leans. They just want to show you how much they appreciated your help."
"By making me pirouette around on a stage with the Minister of Trade? I'm not a dancer, I'm a scientist! I am going to fall on my face and take her with me! I'll probably break her neck and ruin the whole treaty!"
John smiled. "Hey, buddy, it's gonna be okay. I have something that might help. Think of it as a good luck charm." He reached into his pocket to grab something then moved in close to slip a chain around Rodney's neck.
John started backing away as he began a mental countdown. He figured he had 5 seconds to escape the blast radius.
One...
Rodney glanced down, trying to get a look at the pendant now around his neck. He couldn't quite see it, so grasped it between two fingers and held it away from his chest to get a better view.
two...
The look on Rodney's face as everything slid into place was pure gold.
three...
"SHEPPARD! YOU BASTARD!"
four...
John whipped the heretofore hidden camera out and snapped a picture. Or three.
five...
"Phenomenal powers, McKay. The butterfly will keep you safe. See you on the dance floor."
John ducked the flower vase the McKay threw and it crashed against the wall. He fled the lush guest quarters the Ph'leans had provided for McKay, laughing as the indignant splutters that followed him down the hall faded behind him.
Yes, revenge was sweet indeed. After this, the only thing left was to get even with that crazy Czech bastard. But John was going to let him twitch for a few weeks first.
He tucked the camera back into his vest and followed his nose to the Grand Hall. He was pretty hungry, but mostly he couldn't wait to see the half time show.
By Shaddyr
Rating: G
Characters: Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, Ronon
Disclaimer: Oh dear GOD, why can't they be MINE?
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1000
Note: So there was this pendant, which led to this challenge. And then the ever-so-talented taste_is_sweet wrote a comment fic called I'm Not Wearing That in response - yay! You *REALLY* should read that one first... Then beadattitude got into the act with her comments and speculations, and the next thing I know, John started whispering in my ear about tutus and fairy wings. It's *so* not my fault.
Summary: Revenge. Cold. Nuff said.
John made his way to the Grand Hall. It was a riot of colour and sound, and the smell of the feast about to be served was mouth-wateringly delicious. As he walked in, he saw there was a live orchestra playing, and noticed a raised dance floor in the center of the room surrounded on three sides by tables.
"This way please, Colonel Sheppard," came a voice from behind his right shoulder. He turned his head to see one of the Ph'leans gesturing for him to follow. He was quickly ushered toward the head table and seated with Teyla and Ronon. John settled in, then rifled through one of the pockets of his vest to pull out a digital camera. He set it on table in front of him.
Teyla looked at it curiously. "I have never seen you take photographs at occasions such as this before, John."
"Well, I think tonight's entertainment is going to require documentation."
She gave him a puzzled look, but he didn't offer any more explanation.
"Where's McKay?" Ronon grunted as he snagged an appetizer from the tray in front of them.
He explained. "While Teyla was hammering out the final bits of the treaty last week, I was with McKay over at their power plant. He was ranting about how half the people working there were barely literate that it would take him months to get the plant up to par - you know."
"The usual," snorted Ronon as he grabbed something that looked like a crab cake and popped it in his mouth.
"Yeah. So, one of their tech guys came over to me while McKay had his head stuck in a generator and told me how grateful they were, and how they really wanted to honour us. He asked if I would participate in some traditional ritual. And since rituals are so often of the bad here in Pegasus, I asked for a little more clarification." He stopped, toyed with the camera for a moment, then grabbed an appetizer for himself.
When he showed no inclination to continue, Teyla let out a sigh. It was as close to exasperation as John had ever seen. "And what did you learn?"
A look of devilish glee crept over his features. "I'm so glad you asked. The tech guy got the Minister of Trade to tell me all about it, in detail. It's called the sacred Dre Danna, and only those who are most honoured are invited to participate. So, I told her that McKay was the one of us who deserved to be honoured the most. Well she just thought that was fantastic, and begged him to participate. And you know that McKay can't say no to a hot blonde with legs like hers."
"The Dre..." Teyla's eyes went wide as her jaw dropped, and it took her a moment to find her voice. "Oh John! You didn't!"
Ronon did a double take before collapsing into deep, body shaking guffaws.
John just waggled his eyebrows. "Oh yes. I did."
15 minutes earlier
It was the very best kind of revenge, served so cold that McKay hadn't even clued in. Yet. John forced down the smile of anticipation.
McKay looked kind of like Tinkerbell when John thought about it, the gossamer material forming decorative, fairy-like wings that stretched out several inches from each shoulder. The make-up and glitter just added to the effect.
John tried not to smirk, but it was difficult. McKay scowled at him. "What? You think this is funny? This is *not* funny!"
"You're covered in *pixie dust*, McKay. I'm sorry, but it is kind of amusing."
"This is unbelievable!" McKay was red-faced as he continued to rant at John about the Ph'leans who were trying to honour him and the insanity of Pegasus galaxy in general. "I can't *DO* this!"
He looked at John, desperation in his face. "Sheppard! You have to get me out of this! Tell them I've gone into anaphylactic shock, that I'm allergic to the glitter! Something!"
"Now, Rodney," John drawled out, "It's not that bad. We really don't want to lose this trade agreement with the Ph'leans. They just want to show you how much they appreciated your help."
"By making me pirouette around on a stage with the Minister of Trade? I'm not a dancer, I'm a scientist! I am going to fall on my face and take her with me! I'll probably break her neck and ruin the whole treaty!"
John smiled. "Hey, buddy, it's gonna be okay. I have something that might help. Think of it as a good luck charm." He reached into his pocket to grab something then moved in close to slip a chain around Rodney's neck.
John started backing away as he began a mental countdown. He figured he had 5 seconds to escape the blast radius.
One...
Rodney glanced down, trying to get a look at the pendant now around his neck. He couldn't quite see it, so grasped it between two fingers and held it away from his chest to get a better view.
two...
The look on Rodney's face as everything slid into place was pure gold.
three...
"SHEPPARD! YOU BASTARD!"
four...
John whipped the heretofore hidden camera out and snapped a picture. Or three.
five...
"Phenomenal powers, McKay. The butterfly will keep you safe. See you on the dance floor."
John ducked the flower vase the McKay threw and it crashed against the wall. He fled the lush guest quarters the Ph'leans had provided for McKay, laughing as the indignant splutters that followed him down the hall faded behind him.
Yes, revenge was sweet indeed. After this, the only thing left was to get even with that crazy Czech bastard. But John was going to let him twitch for a few weeks first.
He tucked the camera back into his vest and followed his nose to the Grand Hall. He was pretty hungry, but mostly he couldn't wait to see the half time show.