"You think this thing ... ate Rodney," Sam clarified, staring narrowly at the horned, bescaled, snoring heap on the gateroom floor.
Shocky tears ran down Simpson's face. "It's...it's...it's...it must have. We started using the subcutaneous trackers instead of the externals for beaming last Friday, and there are still some kinks to work out, but it's just the interfacing with the dart, the matter stream is fine, so there should be no... I mean, yes. That's Dr. McKay. Um. Was. I mean, that's his tracker. Definitely. In...there."
"Sit down, Simpson," said Sam, not unkindly. "There are no eight foot bipeds on that planet ... or weren't until Ronon arrived. Could you pull up the lifeforms database, please? And where the heck is Sheppard?"
Sheppard burst in from the jumper bay, shouting, with Lorne and Ronon hot on his heels. His posture visibly sagged when he spotted the creature, but he didn't lose momentum. "Don't shoot him!" he wheezed, skidding to his knees. "Don't do anything!" His hands hovered protectively, skittered, then pushed at one giant shoulder.
Sam sighed. "Gimme three guesses--" she began.
Sheppard spared her a glance, grim and pissed off, but laced with a certain coal-black humour. "And the first two don't count."
*
They installed him in one of the conference rooms, since he was shaped more or less like a Thanksgiving turkey and didn't really fit on his bed.
Sheppard and Ronon went back to call on (or call out) the meddling aliens.
One hour later, two more snoring, monstrous heaps appeared on the gateroom floor, this time without any help from Simpson. The meddling aliens had beaming technology of their own.
Sam looked across her coffee cup (number four) at the last member of Sheppard's team. Teyla stared back flintily. She hadn't bothered to don her combat gear. She was dressed in a flowing, tricoloured Athosian tunic that did nothing to conceal her pregnancy. The only indication that she was prepared for gate travel was an earpiece, her sticks and a sturdy pair of boots.
"Teyla," Sam said at last, "I can't say no; you serve at your own discretion. But I want you to consider how many times in a row John will kill me if a hair on your head gets hurt."
"I understand, Colonel. I will handle John," was all Teyla said.
Just after lunch, Teyla walked back through the gate. "They will be fine," she reported. "They have only been temporarily reconfigured for educational purposes, because the leader of the Furlinding-hai found them lacking in social grace."
"Well," said Sam. "Well. Temporary is good. What does temporary mean?"
Beside them, Katie Brown burst into hastily aborted giggles. "Like The Once and Future King!"
Teyla smiled tolerantly. "Walk with me, Colonel Carter, and I will make my full report. I have opened trade negotiations as well."
*
Just after dinner, Teyla requested two pillows, a throw rug and a bag of Oreos and let herself into the conference room. Through the glass, Sam watched her prop herself against Ronon's back, make a footrest out of John, and gently set her hand on Rodney's head.
Sam's breath caught on a sudden wave of sympathy. She backed away and let her
rest.
FIN
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impromptu
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from monanotlisa
and kyriacarlisle.
January 15, 2008
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