Spirits of Another Sort
Authors: Tidia & Mog m. Peaceful visitors to Atlantis aren't welcomed by everyone in the city.
Spoilers: Home, Letters From Pegasus (more like blink-and-you'll-miss-'em references)
Season: One
Authors' Notes:
Mog: Thanks to Ti--I've wanted to come play in the SGA but hadn't managed to find a way. And big thanks to Meg and Derry for beta'ing and improving.
Tidia: Ditto, but Mog most of the thanks go to you for always fluffing my paltry attempts.
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1
Oh-four-hundred hours. Dr. Elizabeth Weir hated military time. It was so clinical that her analytical brain used it effortlessly, but she believed there was more elegance to standard time. Either way, they led to the same conclusion—the watch on the nightstand was showing that it was far too early in the morning.
With a groan, she turned away from the mocking timepiece. She didn't want a reminder of military life. The loosely tucked sheets moved with her and she wondered if the military personnel in Atlantis maintained boot camp-tight bed sheets.
She loathed this time of the morning. The one thought that always managed to push its way to the forefront of her mind was that it was always darkest before the dawn. She knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep now. Her brain was already filling with things to do.
A meteor shower two nights earlier had knocked the electronics in Atlantis for a loop. Over the last 24 hours things came back on-line in a random fashion, with the inhabited areas responding first. However, Elizabeth felt a caretaker-like responsibility to keep the city of the Ancients' operational, to keep abreast of the teams of engineering personnel still following up with careful sweeps of the structure.
Elizabeth tossed the bed sheets aside and rolled herself into a sitting position. Running fingers through her hair, she matted down unruly, dark brown curls. She pulled a well-worn 'Race for the Cure' sweatshirt on in a minor effort to cover her pajamas – sweatpants and an oversized gray t-shirt. Now that she was awake, the question was what to do with herself. She easily picked a destination—the sea air usually helped relax her busy mind.
She threaded her way through the sterile halls of the city, moving on a sleepy form of autopilot. She merely waved to the personnel on duty without offering any explanation as to her presence.
'Don't feel up to explaining nocturnal wanderings. Or care to have it be a topic at breakfast tomorrow…strike that, today.'
Force of habit steered her to her office. 'Just a quick check to see if anything important is waiting.'
The Atlantian lights reacted to her presence and flickered to life. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, that was not the only thing buzzing with life in her office.
"Hi-ya, Trixie."
Weir gasped and blinked rapidly, forcing sleep from her eyes and lassitude from her brain. The voice was one she hadn't heard in over a decade.
Dressed in a tailored, cream-colored linen suit and sitting casually with crossed legs on Weir's desk was her Great Aunt Mattie. It was unusual enough to see her father's aunt in Atlantis. It was even more unusual considering she'd been dead for twelve years.
Elizabeth retreated from the room with a quick backstep. The lighting responded and her office went dark. Standing just outside the threshold, she bit her lip in pensive thought. Was the stress of leading Atlantis affecting her? She turned away from the room and headed for the outside balcony. Evidently, she needed that air sooner rather than later.
The smell of sticky salt air rushed past her as she walked out onto the outer deck. She captured loose strands of brunette hair that spun around her face and gently swept them behind her ears. A single figure stood at the railing, gazing up at the pinpoints of light that formed the Pegasus galaxy.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to announce her arrival but Major John Sheppard spun suddenly, his soldier's sense perceiving the presence behind him. Recovering quickly, he apologized for startling his colleague.
"Sorry." He studied Elizabeth's expression closer. "You all right? You've kinda got that 'seen a ghost' look."
She offered a slight smile. "I'm a Ph.D.; we're not supposed to believe in ghosts."
"Ah," countered Sheppard, "but as a Doctor of Philosophy, shouldn't the real question be – do ghosts believe in you?"
He took a half-step to the side, opening up space for her at the railing. Elizabeth accepted the silent invitation as the soldier turned back towards the expansive body of water surrounding them.
"If I see one, I'll be sure to ask," she said.
"Which brings us back to where we started – what's a nice girl like you doing out on a night like this?"
Elizabeth deflected the question smoothly. "I might ask you the same thing."
"You might," replied Sheppard, "but I'm not a nice girl." He shot her a sidelong glance. "Maybe we're both seeing ghosts." His expression was a shade too serious for Elizabeth.
Before she could comment, he nodded up at the dark sky and spoke again. "Not as pretty as the other night, but it'll do."
Elizabeth offered a half-smile. "Kind of a shame that I had to travel to another galaxy before I was able to see my first meteor shower."
"I'm thinking meteor drizzle is more accurate."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the man beside her and he continued.
"Well, there weren't that many, a hundred or so, tops. I saw a shower about five years ago in Aspen, but it didn't look like this show. The ones the other night seemed to…I don't know, move deliberately. Like they were going someplace."
He stopped himself, as if he was wondering how crazy he must sound. "So…what brings you out here?"
Elizabeth didn't know how to answer. 'Too much on my mind and, oh yes, I just saw my dead great-aunt.' She chose a neutral reply instead.
"Weird dreams. You?"
The major's head didn't move but his glance shifted sharply toward Elizabeth and she recognized the slight purse of the lips that indicated John Sheppard was seriously contemplating something.
"Yeah…something like that."
A monologue of muttering drew close, interrupting them. "Oh, this is healthy. Lack of sleep, then hallucinations, which causes more lack of sleep and feeds more hallucinations - culminating in nothing short of deep psychosis…Why the dog?"
Dr. Rodney McKay's tone shifted the instant he saw his friends and he let slip a startled cry.
The three stared mutely at each other for a few seconds. Rodney's expression echoed his surprised vocalization. His short hair was disheveled, and one end of the belt from his robe trailed along the ground, allowing the robe to fall open, revealing his t-shirt – "Property of Vulcan University"
Sheppard greeted the scientist. "McKay." The voice inflection raised the second syllable, clearly asking a silent question in reaction to Rodney's odd entrance. Rodney, however, deliberately ignored it.
"Major. Elizabeth." His attempt at a casual greeting fell short.
Sheppard spoke again. "Hallucinating dogs?"
"What?"
"You mentioned hallucinating and dogs. Just wondered if you were hallucinating dogs."
McKay stuttered a laugh. "Oh please, what kind of person hallucinates dogs?"
"You tell us, you're the one hallucinating them."
McKay answered bluntly, as if trying to convince himself. "It wasn't a hallucination. It was a dream. Just a…a weird dream."
An improbable theory flashed into Elizabeth's mind but she was more willing to reveal it than face the idea that she may be going crazy.
"Is the dog dead?"
McKay looked horrified. "What?"
Elizabeth softened the question. "You dreamt of a dog, right? Is it one that meant a lot to you but has since…passed?"
"Yes." He stared at her with a puzzled expression but when she spoke again, she addressed Sheppard.
"You too? Someone close to you?"
The major seemed reluctant to answer. He let slip a hard wince and nodded. Elizabeth looked at the two men. "I just saw my great aunt Mattie in my office. She died in 1993."
McKay looked relieved. "I've got you beat…my grandfather, a goldfish, and my first cat and dog are in my lab." He grabbed up the belt of his robe, noticing for the first time that his friends could see his t-shirt, and wrapped the robe around himself. "Damn, Butch is going to eat them alive."
"The dog?" Weir asked.
"No, Butch is the cat!" He took a tentative step toward the main building but stopped and glanced back at his friends. "Right…so, this is where we're supposed to go try to talk to them? The human contingent, anyway. Butch always did talk a lot but it was mostly this squeaky kind of yappy meowing…"
He realized he was rambling nervously and clamped his mouth shut.
Elizabeth briefly looked up at the night sky. She was going to start her day very early. "Well, I'm going to see if my guest is still here. Care to join me?"
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2
Weir hesitated outside her darkened office. She held many fond memories of her father's aunt. Great Aunt Mattie had shown her that being a woman wasn't a limitation, but a strength. Mattie had attended Yale Law, at a time when most women's careers were limited to wife and mother. When she was unable to get the Associate position she wanted, Mattie pushed a small firm to hire her and it grew to one of the largest in the San Francisco area.
She never married. She used to say it was because she wanted to have time to dote on the great-nieces of her family. Rumors amongst the older relatives, however, reported that the scandalous free-spirit flitted between a collection of younger men. Elizabeth was never one for family rumors about Mattie--she knew the stories were completely true. There was very little her aunt didn't share with her. Without Great Aunt Mattie, Elizabeth doubted she would be the woman she was today.
Sheppard sensed her hesitation to walk into the room. "You want me to go in first?"
Elizabeth didn't acknowledge him. She strode across the threshold of the office and, as the lights popped on, stared at the figure still sitting casually on her desk.
"Hi-ya Trixie."
"Hello again." Elizabeth's negotiating skills abandoned her. She'd dealt with many strange situations in her time, especially recently, but talking to the dead had never been one of them. "I'm Elizabeth Weir."
"Yes, I know." Aunt Mattie shifted slightly, uncrossing her legs.
"In my world, you've already died."
"In your world, yes, but in your life I'm still very much alive."
Sheppard spoke in a half-whisper behind Elizabeth. "I'm seeing lips moving but I'm not hearing anything."
Weir started slightly at the sound of his voice. She'd been completely engrossed in studying this woman who was identical to her aunt.
Mattie shook her head. "He can't hear me, love. I am here for you; his are here for him. We mean you no harm." She gestured with an elegant hand to a chair in the office – the guest chair.
Elizabeth smiled, it was just like her aunt to claim the command position in a room. "She said they don't mean us any harm."
Sheppard sighed sharply and crossed his arms, making his doubt clearly apparent. "Can you ask Spooky Spirit Lady why they're here?"
"We are here to understand you better. We are explorers." replied Mattie. She gestured Elizabeth once more toward the chair but offered a wink this time. That wink always meant Aunt Mattie was going to share something with Trixie that she didn't want her other nieces to know.
"They're here to understand us." Elizabeth smiled and continued to stare at the woman seated on her desk.
Aunt Mattie spoke again. "We've been with you for two nights."
"What race are you?" asked Elizabeth. "What do you call yourselves?"
"We are the Ngaut-Ngaut. We take these forms and we are ours and we are yours." She laid a hand first against her own heart and then outstretched her arm to lightly touch Elizabeth's chest. A sparkle lit her eye and she smiled before tapping a slim finger to the forehead of her 'niece'. "We know what we know from you."
Elizabeth addressed the man behind her. "It's alright, Major. I think we'll be just fine. I suspect they could already have caused us harm if that was their intent." She finally turned to look at Sheppard and McKay. "We'll meet in the briefing room in an hour, and I think Dr. Heightmeyer should join us. But if anyone reports any cause for alarm, I'm to be notified immediately."
The two men accepted the gentle dismissal and Elizabeth lowered herself into the guest chair as they turned to leave. Moving into the hallway, Sheppard shook his head, mumbling quietly.
"This is a very bad idea."