"What is this... skateboarding?"
"It's a hobby, although it can sometimes be a sport as well. Come on, two of the marines offered to teach me, maybe you'll like it too." 'Although the idea of a wraith skateboarding is laughable...'
"And why is it you want me to learn as well as you?" He continued striding next to her as they made their way, escorted of course, down to one of the empty areas of Atlantis. Likely the corridors had once been used for something, but now they merely offered recreational space when the time was available.
"So you really enjoy just doing nothing and working on computers?"
He chuffed, turning his eyes away to avoid seeing the grin that he just knew was on her features. Damn right he didn't, but allowing the Atlanteans an insight into wraith culture wasn't exactly on his to-do list. So, he mused, allowing them to share some aspects of their culture was a fair negotiation. Already he'd witnessed birthday celebrations and taken part in poker night.
Finally they came upon the two marines – Richard and Matt respectively – who were both wearing Cheshire grins when she explained that the Commander might possibly be giving it a go as well. Both of them, of course, had cameras with them ready to secretly capture any accidents for later giggles.
"Brought a friend Pris'?"
"Yes. I thought he could use a change of scenery."
"A'right, let's get you kitted up."
"Is that really necessary Matt?"
"Knowing you..."
They strapped on the knee and elbow pads, and even plonked the helmet on and made sure it was secure. She looked ridiculous, but it at least matched the cream and black colouration of her clothing, so all was not entirely lost. Todd eyed the vehicle in question. With four wheels and what looked like a decorated shaped plank of wood, it seemed to have no real form of braking, let alone steering.
"Alright, Prissy, go for it." She got on top of it, wobbling a little before taking on a stance that Todd recognised as being one of those taken during a martial art – legs a shoulders-width apart, arms bent. Arching an eyebrow up, she then turned to look over her shoulder at him for approval...
...only to get shoved. Hard. With a squeal, down the corridor she went, picking up speed towards the mattress they'd managed to commandeer to provide something of a crashmat. Unknowing of how to turn, she leant down to try and manually turn the end before it came to a halt, sending her ass over tit onto the spongy material. Richard and Matt were almost on the floor with laughter, but Todd, unknowing of just how easy a skill this actually was to pick up, showed concern. Or at least, as much as he dared show in public at any rate. Striding over briskly, he shoved the offending toy out of the way with a clatter and peered down at her from his considerable 6ft something of height. He, for now, refused to crouch within sight of the marines – off duty or not.
"Are you alright?"
"Never better!"
He helped her up, letting go once she was back on terra firma before she picked up the strange item and paced back to the marines. Just as he was about to snarl a comment at them, she spoke first.
"How can I not do that again?"
"Lean, you need to lean if you want to change direction. And braking, just move your foot off and put it on the ground."
"Ok, try two!"
John strode down towards the corridor where he'd last heard radio communication from concerning the wraith and his unlikely, not to mention willing human companion. He had a gut feeling and damn well needed it to be proven wrong. But what did he see when he rounded the corner? Certainly not what he expected in the slightest. Prisca rolled past him on a skateboard, cheerily waving to him as he strode towards the intersection of the underground corridors. Todd then skimmed behind him on another one, easily turning using a simple rearranging of his legs and a jerking motion of the board below him. Their assigned marines were clicking away, no doubt ready to tell the rest of the lads what they'd been doing that day while off-duty. He cleared his throat loud enough for it to catch all ears in the room, and eight wheels came to a halt – one slower than the other, resulting in a muffled screech.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"I believe, Sheppard, it is called skateboarding."