Title: Lunchroom Blitz

Author: Chris- Khris0117

Rating: All kids

Summary: Dr Weir calls a girls day out and the boys are left to their own

Disclaimer: Canon characters aren't mine, just taking them out to play

Author's notes: May 20th to 26th Challenge-- I didn't put a ton of work into this as I am still working on another story but the scene was too fun to pass up. I know everyone is way ooc but that wasn't in the rules!

Dr Elizabeth Weir stood beside the puddle jumper taking a quick head count of the group of women gathered around her. She smiled brightly. "That's everyone. It has been a long four months and you all deserve a break. Spend the next twelve hours refreshing your body, mind and spirit. When we get back we will be better and stronger women. Are we ready then?" At the unanimous yes' and shouts from around the room, she nodded to the four pilots, two of them military men and the only males on this journey, that they were ready. She took one last look around, hoping to see John for some last minute reminders.

Sitting in the seat behind the pilot, she couldn't help the wide grin that was set on her face. Twelve hours, glorious hours, with no worries, no paperwork, no stress and no babysitting. She did feel somewhat unsure leaving all the men of Atlantis alone, without supervision... oh, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Before she could change her mind the rear hatch closed and the puddle jumper lifted off.

Major John Sheppard watched from the bay doors as the gang of women climbed aboard the jumpers and were gone. Whew, Weir missed him. He had had it up to his eyeballs with 'do this, don't do that, wait on this, be sure that...' He was an adult and could handle this. Beside the fact that she was only going to be on the mainland for twelve hours. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Lt Aiden Ford set up the keg the second Dr Weir was out of sight. His logic was, if the women could have a get-away, the guys could have get-together. Unable to leave Atlantis completely unmanned, he figured he would serve a brunch. Athosian hooch, various fruit from the mainland, some sort of mock crackers and some brightly colored streamer-like things he found, made for a mellow party.

Once everything was organized on the long tables in a sort of buffet, he made the announcement over the intercom. "Brunch is being served in the cafeteria." Then he sat to wait.

It wasn't long before a few fellow military men came through the doors. They went down the line, picking anything that looked edible. Aiden chit chatted with them until they went to sit. Next three of the science group strode in, going through the food, sniffing and speculating each item, choosing only the semi-identifiable pieces. Soon the cafeteria was bustling with military and scientists alike. Each stuck to their own kind making an evident divide in the room.

John sauntered through the commissary door. He took a slow look around. "In moderation, everybody. I realize the city is essentially on stand down for twelve hours but I don't need anybody hung over." Accepting the various waves and nods, he headed straight to Ford. "Hey, lieutenant. This looks like a luau. What is all this stuff?"

Ford pointed to various things, giving the Athosian name and it's Earth equivalent according to taste.

Noticing one he forgot, John pointed, "What about this one?"

"Oh, I haven't tried that one. Dr Beckett had a crate of them in his office. If he's stashing 'em I figure they gotta be good."

John gave a cock-eyed nod, then asked, " You seen McKay?"

"No, sir," he answered, serving another drink. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

John surveyed the tables of goodies. "I've got a few minutes, why not?" He chose a piece of mystery fruit and a cup of the ale, nodded his thanks then turned to find a place to sit. Upon finishing his drink, he began to munch the fruit. The sweet of the purplish pulp burst in his mouth when his teeth punctured the peach-like, red-orange marbled flesh. He kicked his legs out, crossed at the ankles, leaning back in his chair, tuning out the scientific babble happening at the other end of the table.

Finding himself extremely relaxed, he glanced around the room to see that many of the cafeteria's occupants appeared mildly blitzed. He looked back to his fruit then finished it off. A heavy hand on his shoulder brought him from the close contemplation of the seed.

"Major Sheppard," Rodney said plopping down beside the major with a plate overflowing with food. "Ford says you were looking for me?" he garbled around a mouthful.

John's brow furrowed. "Uhmm, yea, I was... but I can't remember why now." With a shrug he tossed the pit onto the table and stared at it. A thought niggled at the back of his mind, something about work but it wouldn't come any further than that.

A loud crash from the far table startled everyone from their various introspective states. John saw Sgt Stackhouse and a scientist nose to nose, the table upended, it's contents flung across the floor. Stumbling to his feet, John made his way to stand beside the two men. "What's this about?" He frowned at the slight slur in his voice.

Stackhouse blinked, only glancing at his superior. Without a word, he swung a fist to connect with the scientist's jaw who was flung into John, bowling him over. Chaos erupted around the room as the scientists went after the military and vice versa.

John wiggled out from under the toppled man. He stood only to have to duck again as a chair came flying at him from the right.

Rodney licked the last of the food from his spoon, washing it all down with a long swig of Athosian ale. Mmm, not too sweet, not too tart. His mind began to drift. He felt lighter, as if he had no worries anymore. Soon his thinking brain was in a numbed euphoria.

Aiden stood at the side of the room, too stunned to move. He so hoped this wasn't from anything he served. He keyed the comms, "Dr Beckett, uhm, this is Ford. Your presence is required in the cafeteria."

"What's happenin, son?" came the barely audible reply.

"Uhm, just get here as soon as you can." Aiden ducked a plate of crackers.

John was pulling two people apart when he caught Rodney out of the corner of his eye. The scientist had jumped to the top of a table, arm cocked back. They locked eyes as Rodney bellowed, "Fooood fiiiight!" and heaved his fistful of mushy fruit compote at the major.

John was still too muddled to have the sense to dodge the food missile and took it full in the face. Now, rather than flying fists, the cafeteria was clouded with flying food. John looked around to find a glop of something on the floor. Scooping it up he catapulted it at Rodney, nailing him in the side of the face.

Rodney's fuzzy brain acknowledged that something had beamed him in the head but his body wasn't able to compensate and he toppled off the table backwards to land on two wrestling marines.

Carson strode down the corridor toward the cafeteria. Lt Ford hadn't been specific about the nature of the injury requiring him to come to the it instead of having the injury come to him. He rounded a corner nearly plowing into Dr Weir. With a shout, he stepped back from her, hands up in a protective stance. "Oh, you scared me. What are you doin back so soon?" He continued walking down the corridor.

Elizabeth smiled at the flighty doctor. "Flash thunderstorm. We got rained out," she pouted, falling into stride beside him.

"Oh, too bad. You were only gone," he checked his watch, "four hours."" He truly felt sorry for her having to cancel the camping trip.

"It's alright. We're just postponing until sometime next week. Where are you headed?"

"I got a call from Lt Ford a few moments ago saying he needed me in the cafe...ter...ia..." he trailed off at the opening of the doors to the room in question. He was expecting to have to treat a burn or knife cut. He would never have expected the war zone that he walked into.

Elizabeth froze in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth agape. There were the people responsible for the safety, security and maintenance of Atlantis in a full blown food fight. Anger surged through her, making her tremble. "What the hell is going on here?"

The tone of Elizabeth's voice was enough to make Carson want to run back to the medical bay and hide under his desk.

The room of flying food ceased almost immediately. The last sounds being a very off-key rendition of 'Friends in Low Places' coming from the far corner. It died away after some elbow nudges from the men nearby.

Elizabeth scanned the room, making sure everyone got their share of 'the glare.' Near the center of the room she caught sight of the last two people she expected to see in this mess. The two were shoulder to shoulder, dripping in multicolored food residue, eyes as wide as saucers. Without missing a beat, they pointed at each other saying in unison, "He did it."

Before she could open her mouth a piece of mystery fruit, most likely a delayed missile, was flying straight at Elizabeth. She blinked as it was stopped by a hand just inches from her nose. She followed the arm to meet Carson's wide blue eyes.

But his attention was on the fruit. He held it up for everyone to see. "Where did ya get this?"

All heads turned the direction of where the buffet tables used to stand. Aiden Ford slowly stood up from behind his barricade, an embarrassed grin on his face and a shrug his only excuse.

Dr Weir's voice could be heard echoing around the control room. The glass walls of her office hid nothing of the ass-chewing the three men inside were receiving.

Aiden stood straight and tall. Major Sheppard sat in a chair still dripping goo, shoulders slumped and he winced when Elizabeth's voice reached certain octaves. Rodney was sitting slumped as well, both arms braced on his knees, fingers entangled in his hair.

"I can't even to begin to express how disappointed I am with you."

John hopped she was wrapping it up before his head exploded.

Rodney lurched forward spilling the contents of his stomach into Elizabeth's trash can.

She pinched her nose at the smell. "You two, get down to the medical bay. Lt Ford take care of this," she motioned to the trash can, "then get to the cafeteria with a mop and bucket." She heaved a sigh as John wrapped Rodney's arm around his shoulder and the two staggered out. Lt Ford left with the offending trashcan held as far away from his body as his arms would allow.

Elizabeth circled her desk slowly, before dropping into her chair. She tried to keep her hard-ass composer on top but couldn't contain it any longer and erupted into gut-busting laughter.

John sat on the exam table waiting his turn for the doc to clear him and give him some Tylenol for the headache that was beating at his temples. He was clean now, wearing the burgundy scrubs, staring at his bare feet dangling off the edge of the bed. His concentration was still off and he felt like he was floating.

A sharp voice came from the bed just across from him, bringing his head up to see Rodney taking a needle in the butt.

"...hoser. What were you thinking, eh?"

Frowning, John tried to place the odd lingo. When it finally dawned on him... Canadian. A laugh erupted between his lips so hard little missiles of spittle flew, showering Dr Beckett's white coat as he stepped up to the major's bed. "Bob and Doug McKenzie," he laughed out loud in Carson's face.

"All right then, major. Let me listen to yer heart." It took a bit longer to get the man's vitals as he seemed to be attacked by a case of the fidgets. Carson finally prodded the wiggly man into a prone position. Feeling his belly, ribs then running his fingertips across the dark bruise on his cheekbone.

"Ow, hey." That sobered his attitude a bit.

"I think you've cracked yer cheekbone, major," Carson said, motioning to the nurse attending Rodney. "I need an xray of his face, Nicole."

"Wash your hands first," John raised his head to shout after her. "Ow," he whined laying his head back on the pillow.

"Well?" Elizabeth came up beside Carson.

Carson tucked his hands into his pockets, stepping out of the way to make room for the Ancients version of a portable xray machine. "Black eyes, bruises, nothing serious. I sent the lot of them to their quarters to sleep it off. Rodney got a bite on his hand so he got a shot of antibiotics. In a bit, we'll see if Major Sheppard cracked his cheekbone." He stepped around to the display, seeing immediately what he didn't want to see. "Yep, hairline fracture." He pointed it out to Elizabeth.

"What does that mean?" Elizabeth asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Well, his face'll ache but there's no treatment for it. I'll keep him overnight to rule out delayed head injury. Then he'll just have to be careful for a few weeks." They stepped aside for the machine to move out. Standing over the now dozing major.

"Twelve hours... you guys didn't last four."

"Hey, don't look at me. Lt Ford should learn to keep his grubby little fingers out of my office."

"What caused this anyway?" She locked her frowning eyes on Carson.

It was the doctor's turn to squirm now. "I had a crate of fruit brought back from P3X-909 that they used to make a medicinal beverage, one that kills pain quite effectively... it acts as a central nervous system depressant, much like alcohol."

"So when they ingested it with the Athosian ale, it gave them a magnified dose of liquor," she finished.

"Aye," he sighed. "Most of my patients today claimed to have had only one cup but many pieces of the fruit. They were almost instantly intoxicated."

Rodney's slurred voice, brought their attention around to face the scientist. He was humming a strange tune, then growled dramatically, "Rodney McKay, the beerhunter." Then erupted into a fit of giggles.

The End

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