...Oh look, I seem to have ventured into yet another new fandom. Hi guys. :) So, this is for the Mckeller livejournal group and their holiday challenge. I took up the mantle of the prompt "Starting a new holiday tradition". And now I sit back and hope that everyone who was patient for new chapters is still patient even though I am off gallivanting with a new fandom. :/
PS:
Love, cookies, and plenty of cuddles go to my beta, who betas not just my stories, but my real life too.
Also, I don't own Stargate, SG-1, Atlantis, Infinity, nor Universe. :) But even if I did I would totally write fic for it.
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Christmastime was the worst part of being at Atlantis.
Ever since she was a child it had been her favorite holiday. Every Christmas Eve at exactly 11:50--2350 her mind supplied automatically; making her wince--her father would bundle the both of them up in their warmest winter-wear. When she was very small this meant holding her boots for her, zipping up her coat, and adjusting the strap on her earmuffs as well as finishing it off by looping her scarf around her and tucking it just right so it was even.
As she got older the tradition remained. She could put on her own boots and zip up her own coat, but he always wrapped her scarf for her, and then he'd rub his hand over her cheek and kiss her forehead.
Then she'd blush and swat him away playfully before pulling down the lumpy hat she had tried to knit herself. They would pile into his car, turn the radio to the scratchy channel which played carols.
They would sing along--generally the wrong lyrics--and drive out, touring the neighborhood and the surrounding area staring at the Christmas lights that everyone else put out. It was always well after midnight by the time they returned home and then, with a gusto, they would tear into the presents under the tree while drinking eggnog and wearing the bows from the packages on their heads.
Now, though, she couldn't go home for Christmas, and no one in Atlantis really put out Christmas lights. There was a tiny little tree in the Mess and she had been certain to get one in the Infirmary, but it wasn't the same.
But it wasn't the same. Her father wasn't there. They couldn't go out in their pajamas and winter clothes to look at the Christmas lights. And this year there would be no eggnog. It had spoiled in transit aboard the Daedalus.
Still, she plastered on a smile and hummed Christmas carols as she went around the base. She was getting better at shrugging it off and making do.
But then SGC surprised everyone.
They had been told that because their gate had been destroyed, their gifts would have to come aboard the Daedalus. Due to the much needed supply runs and the destruction of several ships due to the destruction wrought by the explosion of so many gates they wouldn't arrive until after Christmas. Considering that technically Atlantis didn't even have the same calendar, the people for the most part, shrugged it off. There was some disappointment and more than a little grumbling, but there was nothing they could do about it.
Two days before Christmas, the Daedalus arrived with a tired crew bedecked with Santa hats and bags of gifts from home. They had pushed themselves and their ship as hard as they could to make certain they were on time.
Woolsey quickly arranged an almost-Christmas dinner with turkey sandwiches and Zelenka's moonshine.
They were able to set up a viewing of How the Grinch Stole Christmas in the mess hall. Soldiers and scientists stretched out on the floor or on the tables when they couldn't find seats enough to fit them all and everyone sung along with the chorus even though it seemed no one could agree on what the Whos were really saying.
Jennifer retreated to her room to open the pacakge her father sent. He was better at the separation than she was. She was worried that he would feel as though she'd abandoned him. He was proud of the fact that his daughter was the CMO of whatever base she couldn't actually talk about.
Opening the box, she found the long white scarf she had left at home when going off to college. It had been her mother's and she wanted to keep it safe more than she wanted its comfort. So she bought a cheap scarf in the student store and mended it with suture stitches when it snagged and tore a couple of times.
Taped to the scarf was a note written on the heavy linen, monogrammed stationary she had bought her father for his birthday.
I will always love you, but it is time to grow into a family of your own and start your own traditions.
She frowned and buried her face in the warm wool that was only just a little scratchy. Against her better judgment an image of Rodney smiling that awkward little half-smile of his flashed into her mind.
Her father would probably dislike Rodney at first, having spent so much time dealing with arrogant doctors. He had little patience for people who were arrogant, whether it was deserved or not, but he had dealt with hundreds of interns on rotation through his ward.
She chuckled around the lump in her throat--the scarf smelled of her father's aftershave and oh how she missed him--meeting her father might do Rodney a bit of good. She had to remind herself that there wasn't a reason for that meeting to take place.
Her door chimed and she tossed the scarf onto her bed and rushed to answer it. She was at the door fairly quickly but Rodney had already gotten about five steps away by the time she caught sight of him. He turned when he heard the door open and looked more sheepish than normal. "Oh." He glanced around. "I…uh…I came by but then I figured you would probably be with everyone else at the party." He explained after a moment.
He wasn't about to paint himself as some kind of stalker and point out that he had seen her leave then followed after scraping together his courage.
"Oh," she said, glancing down and then up again. "No," she laughed a little breathlessly, "Beer's fine but that moonshine is a bit much for me." It was true and a better excuse than how homesick she was. The last thing she wanted was to ruin anyone one else's holiday, especially Rodney's.
"Heh." Her heart trilled in her chest, she loved that one little nervous chuckle of his almost more than anything else he did. "Yeah. Yeah…Well, still--I mean…" He sighed and furrowed his brow. "Anyway, I just wanted to…that is, Jeannie…or more really Madison, has made it clear that gifts are really important." He laughed a little awkwardly again. "She's, Jeannie that is, been nagging me to make certain I get gifts for everyone out here…well, the people I, well I guess that I like." Jennifer found that she had forgotten how to breathe as he pulled a long, narrow package out from behind his back. She had been so taken with his lips that she hadn't even noticed his hand was behind his back.
He didn't notice her hand was shaking when she took the gift. A week ago she had presented him with a case of blue jell-o packs to keep in his lab along a bouquet of plastic spoons. She had arranged to have them delivered a long while ago to make certain she had a gift for him in time for Christmas. She held the package for a long moment and Rodney stirred to life.
"Are you going to open it?" He asked. "Not that you're not allowed to not open it." He finished quickly and she couldn't help raising an eyebrow at him. "Hey! I told you I was new at this present-giving thing, and all I have to go on is an excitable six-year-old and you even mention "present" around her and she'll start making tearing motions with her hands in some kind of Pavlovian response." To make his point Rodney started to tear at the air with his hands. Jennifer couldn't help but chuckle at that and slipped her finger under one of the folds of wrapping paper--She would have bet a whole bowl of fresh strawberries that Jeannie had wrapped it--and began tearing open the gift. "You can do better than that." McKay chided. "Really rip into it." She laughed aloud at that and pulled viciously, getting the paper off in two large sections.
Laying in the palm of her hand and feeling heavier than it should was a box emblazoned with a company name and logo she didn't recognize. She pulled the lid off and resting in a nest of cotton was a long gold and walnut tube. It took her a long minute to realize that she was holding a fine kaleidoscope and then another long minute to find something to say.
"Rodney." She managed at last.
"You don't have to like it. I didn't know what to get you and Jeannie said it was just the thought that counted…so I thought…" She swallowed a lump in her throat and carefully closing the box and holding it shut with one hand she lunged at McKay, pulling him into a tight hug and burying her face in his neck.
He smelled more of coffee than of aftershave.
"Heh." There was that nervous chuckle again and she could only hope that he couldn't feel the way her heart skipped a beat. "I guess you liked it after all." She didn't mean to start crying. It was just, with missing her father and being surrounded by reminders that she was not only impossibly far away but on Christmas to boot plus the fact that Rodney had just gone out of his way to give her a gift…it was too much.
"Hey, hey." He chided, pulling away as she scrubbed viciously at her eyes. He patted one shoulder awkwardly and she forced smile, managing to fight back the tears. Her voice was still thick and quivering when she spoke.
"Thank you. For this." She waved a hand between them so he knew she didn't mean just the present. "I really needed it."
"You miss your dad huh? Well of course you miss him." The last part was spoken quietly to himself and he shook his head and looked away.
"Christmas was always kinda special between us. We'd drive around looking at Christmas lights and…I miss him all the time, but it's especially bad around the holidays." She admitted finally. "Thank you, for the gift. I've got some gingerbread cookies if you'd like." She figured that dangling the offer of food in front of his face might make him forget what a sap she was acting like currently.
He followed her into her room silently while she went straight for the small kitchenette and brought back a bright red tin painted with dancing snowmen. He snapped his fingers just as she held out the tin for him. He caught sight of the scarf on her bed and scooped it up before wrapping it around her neck and smiling the largest smile she'd ever seen on his face. It was so similar to the same thing her father had done so many times that her heart clenched in her chest and she nearly started crying again.
"I've got a brilliant idea." He said with that smirk that was part arrogance and part mischief. She was too stunned to respond and so only stood there limply as he took the tin from her and dropped it onto the foot of her bed, then took her wrist in his hand--surely he could feel the flutter of her heart--and dragged her out of her room. She nearly stumbled and so he paused and waited with the barely restrained excitement of a kid waiting for his parents to follow him downstairs Christmas morning. He dragged her to the teleporter and then stepped between her and the map before selecting his destination.
He needn't have bothered. She was so stunned merely by being in his presence and having him touch her. Even just his hand around her wrist was enough to send her heart soaring. But what really had done away with whatever sense she had left was the gentle way he had placed her scarf around her neck. Surely he had no idea of the significance, but it was so similar to what her father had done for her and yet completely different.
She was shaking like a leaf and she ached with a desire to stop him in whatever he was doing and kiss McKay as senseless as he had left her. She couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she had just enough sense left to know what a bad idea that would be.
They were outside on one of the piers before she realized it. Atlantis was warm all year round, but the night coupled with the surrounding ocean left it just cool enough. She wouldn't have needed her scarf, but it wasn't intolerable with it.
He led her out a ways away from the city and then held her in place with her back to Atlantis. "It's not the same, but," He spun her around by her shoulders and she was presented with a view of Atlantis sparkling like the stars in the sky and all lit up…just like a Christmas tree.
True there weren't colored lights or animatronic reindeer and inflatable Santas, but in that moment, with McKay standing at her back it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
"Rodney…" She murmured, trying to find something, anything to say.
"I know it's not the same…and it's probably not very good at all since it wasn't the lights you missed, it was your dad. But this way he can go look at lights and you can go look at lights--kind of--and the tradition is still alive." She spun on one heel, staring at him in the dim light of the city. "Well, and I'm still here, but you can come out on your own next time, I guess." He glanced down at his feet although she was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to see them in the dark.
Instead she reached out and took both his hands in her own, lifting them so she could place a kiss against his knuckles. Something sparked within her and glancing up through her eyelashes she was certain, even in the dark, that he'd felt it too.
"We could, just us two, start a new tradition." She murmured, and even later she would never be certain if it had been him or her who stepped forward in that quiet, still moment. Maybe they both took a half-step forward; whomever moved it drew them close enough together and Jennifer pitched forward on her toes just as Rodney dipped his head.
They shared their first kiss there in the light of the city, and that was how their first tradition was born.
Every Christmas of the many they spent at Atlantis Rodney would come by her room, wrap her scarf around her and they would walk hand-in-hand to their special spot and share a kiss in the glow that wasn't quite the same as Christmas lights, but it was good enough for them.
The next year, instead of jell-o, Jennifer got a scarf for Rodney to match her own.
~*~
To those who don't know me: go nuts. See a spelling error, point it out! Odd grammar thing? I'd love to discuss it with you. I'm certain a couple of people can assure you that when I ask for constructive criticism I really do want it.
Besides, I've been openly mocked by professors I'm paying to teach me to write. Whatever you guys say can't be as masochistic as me going BACK to that class.