A Collection of Drabbles
Drabble - A short piece of writing consisting wholly of 100 words - no more, no less. Title not included. Variations include the double drabble (200 words) and the half drabble (50 words).
Disclaimer/Author's Notes - I don't own Stargate: Atlantis. On a separate note, if you like deep, intellectual stories you shouldn't be reading this. Many thanks to the author ErabuHikari for letting me use part of her fanfiction in my last drabble. Read her story; you won't be disappointed.
Sheppard's face slammed against the wall and his head exploded with pain. As he saw stars, he wondered if he would make it back home. Back to Atlantis . . .
The Wraith kept a strong grasp on his arm, preventing John's escape. He could feel the mouth-like opening against his skin as his shirt was ripped open. The major flinched.
The Wraith was going to kill him.
He waited; panicked and silent. However, death did not come. The Major cracked open an eye to see the Wraith staring intently at his chest.
"Do you work out?" the Wraith asked.
McKay rubbed his temples; he could feel a headache coming. He'd been trying to decipher the Ancient's research on ascension for the weeks, seldom leaving his lab. Then again, he had rarely seen outside.
His brilliance was interrupted by Atlantis' fellow stooges, Ford and Sheppard. They grinned as they held out a pair of ice-skates.
"There's our Grinch! You up for a skate, McKay?"
"Why?"
"It's Christmas." Rodney blinked, not following his logic.
"I made a Wraith snowman!" Ford cried. "You should've seen where Sheppard put the carrot–-"
"Gentlemen," drawled McKay. "As much as I would like to participate in your...winter sex education, I must decline."
"C'mon, McKay. I'm sure...whatever is it you've been working on is less important."
"It's very important, you simpleton. The Ancient's research on ascension is encoded in some mathematical formula and—"
"You haven't been able to figure it out?" Sheppard teased.
"No! I'm pacing myself."
"For three weeks? Anyway, the research is boring. I read it a few months ago. Death, Wraith, white beam of light, blah blah blah. Let's go skating."
McKay's jaw re-attached itself "I....don't know how to skate."
"But," Ford exclaimed, "you're Canadian!"
"No shit, Sherlock. Anyway, I never got around to learning."
"What were you doing in your childhood?"
McKay shrugged. "Building atomic bombs."
He had been sent on a reconnaissance mission to collect information on the people of M4H-143. A safe, simple mission. Easy in, easy out . . .He'd be back in time for lunch.
'Maybe Teyla made me a turkey sandwich,' he had mused.
Of course, in typical Sheppard fashion, things didn't go according to plan. People were killed, betrayals were made, and, of course, they were captured. John sighed against the prison bars.
As he was nearing sleep, his mind drifted to more pleasant things. Football, Antarctica, football, ferris wheels, football...
"If I die," said McKay, "you can have my porno mags."
"What the hell is that, Ford?"
"It's a cat, sir."
"You're not naming it. It's suffered enough."
"Actually, I was thinking about Mr. Gigglesworth."
"......No. Just call it Cat or It."
"Those aren't names, sir."
"Teyla?"
"May I suggest J'emitak? It is an Athosian god who rained destruction upon those who opposed him. After they were tortured, he fed on their flesh and raped their women. I believe it is the perfect name for the creature. Do you not agree, McKay?"
"Yes, for once. Look at that thing! Have you tested it for rabies? Ringworm? It's practically a walking third world garbage can." sneeze "I'm going to kill you, Ford."
"He fainted."
"Oh, there's got to be a better word."
"You fainted."
"I passed out from. Manly Hunger!"
Sheppard sighed and pulled out his radio. "Dr Weir, this is Sheppard. McKay's okay He...uh...he fainted."
Beckett and the Major grinned; obviously pleased with McKay's predicament. It wasn't everyday you got to see Mr. Invulnerable so....well, helpless.
"Oh, that's very sympathetic. Let's all mock the dying man. Thank you."
"Still the king of snark..."
"What?"
"I said you're still the king of snark."
McKay bristled. "Of course I am. I'm Rodney McKay. A genius. Why shouldn't I be the king of snark?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes.
"Oh, Major?"
"Yes, McKay?"
"What does snark mean?"
"Don't you dare, Liz," John screamed.
"Two." Time was running out, and their captor was becoming impatient. He wanted answers, and fast.
"He'll only use you!" John warned. "Don't say anything!"
"Do not speak!" John felt his gun being pulled from his waistband captor and Major Sheppard panicked. Was he planning to hurt him? Or worse, Elizabeth?
"Not a god damn thing, Elizabeth!" John said.
"One."
"Liz, don't--" The last thing Major Sheppard remembered was the sight of his own gun being pointed at him before his world went black.
Their captor had turned off the lights. Major Sheppard had always hated power outages.