Author: alastria7
Title: A Time For Miracles
Characters: McKay, Weir, Sheppard, Carter, Dex.
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, they do. No money earned.
Summary: It's amazing, the miracles that can happen to people
(especially Rodney McKay) at Christmas time.
Author's note: Yeah, OK, it's not Christmas, but I wrote this a while back and thought you might like it here.
A Time for Miracles
"You have GOT to be kidding me!" Rodney McKay, brilliant scientist and astrophysicist, but not a brilliant Santa Clause, objected.
All Sam Carter could do was to curl up in giggles, pointing occasionally at the Big Red Guy. Ever since SG-1 had been disbanded and she'd been drafted here to run another crack team, alongside Colonel Sheppard, under Elizabeth Weir's command, she'd seen a rather normal sense of humor displayed among the people here, for most of the time. But this? No one had to paint red cheeks on Rodney McKay; he was wearing his own. If you could find them, under all that white fluff on his face. The gate room seldom held such a sight.
"Hold still, Rodney," Weir implored, making an adjustment to the base of McKay's trouser leg, which had been caught up somewhat in his big black Santa boot.
"I hold still for pictures," Rodney objected. "And when I'm hiding from someone whose sole intention it is to kill me. I've always considered that kind of holding still makes perfect sense, but this?"
Sam caught Sheppard's eye and they both sniggered.
From the floor, still struggling because Santa wouldn't hold still, Elizabeth questioned, trying to hide the smile in her voice, "What 'this'? I should think it's an honor to be chosen as the Official Atlantis Santa Clause."
"I didn't see you volunteering," he bit back at her.
"Now, Rodney," cut in Sheppard. "Elizabeth's not," he glanced pointedly over Weir's anatomy, "exactly the right proportions for the Big Red Guy."
Rodney glared at Sam, demanding she agree with, "Oh, and I am, is that it?"
"Well, you are the nearest one to his shape, yes," dared Sam, trying to keep a straight face.
McKay actually looked hurt. "I thought I could depend on you. But there it is," he continued, sadly, looking away. "It's at times like this when you find out who your true friends are."
Through a laugh, Sam said, "What?"
"Your true friends," Elizabeth reminded him as she stood, her mission completed, "are over there." She pointed to a group of Athosian children, who had been briefed on the Earth tradition of Santa and what he meant to Earth's children, and were looking in his direction with eager looks of hope and magic on their little faces.
And Rodney melted, just a little. But, still out of earshot of them, he had one last crack. "Next year, someone else, OK?" Staring at the floor, his eyebrows raised, he waited for an answer.
"Depends what kind of job you make of this year," Weir told him.
Not exactly what Rodney wanted to hear. But then they were joined by Ronon Dex who, over his shoulder, carried the largest sack any of them had ever seen.
"Ah," said Rodney, as Ronon approached him and swung the sack off his shoulder. In the same movement he continued the swing and the whole thing ended up on the shoulder of a freshly-complaining scientist. "Hey!" he objected, falling down on one knee, struggling with the weight, before having himself another little grumble. "I can't see why we lie to children, anyway. I mean it's not like they're Never going to find out you lied, and then what are they going to believe, huh? The next time you try to tell them anything? Where's parental authority gone then, hmm? Right out the window, that's where."
"McKay," hissed Sam. "The kids, they're watching you. Stand up!"
"I'd like to see you try," he grumbled generally, hoisting himself back on his two booted feet. "Christmas. Who the hell invented such a..."
"Santa?"
The small voice had come from somewhere around the height of Rodney's knee, and he stopped complaining and looked down. The most beautiful green eyes looked trustingly into his own, the little girl's face lit with wonder. "Are you Santa?"
Shutting his mouth and sweeping a look around his comrades, who were all looking back expectantly with a mix of expressions, Rodney looked back down to the face of innocence. He took her hand and led her over to a chair they'd put out for him earlier and swept her up onto his knee. "I certainly am, little girl. What's your name?"
And as the children gathered around McKay the arguments were gone, the skeptic was gone, only the Big Red Guy, filled with love, care and giving remained.
"Now that's what Christmas will do for you," Weir said happily, watching with the others. She stretched out her arms and wrapped one around the waists of the two people standing either side of her, Sam Carter and John Sheppard. And John drew Ronon into the impromptu huggle, as they all watched McKay excelling at love.
It wasn't really a secret. They all knew he had it in him.
"Merry Christmas everyone," Sam said happily.
"Yeah, but... you know what's missing?"
They looked at John expectantly.
"Carols," he told them, like they'd all missed the obvious. "Christmas carols. Used to love 'em."
"You haven't heard me sing," warned Elizabeth happily.
"Just about to, though, I'll bet," he pushed, as he led them in his favorite carol, Good King Wencelesslass. It was his favorite because, as a child, he'd played about with the words and always ended up giggling. This time he sang it straight, with the women, while a bemused Ronon looked from them to Rodney and back again.
It was certainly a time for miracles.
End
alastria7