Journal of the Genius's Daughter

Stargate Atlantis

By Teenangel

Summary: The words of a certain scientist's daughter about her life on Atlantis.

Note: This is assuming they're never able to contact Earth. Don't expect a concrete plot or explanations; this is a journal so the character wouldn't assume she'd have to put in the duh stuff. Being that I am not a doctor or a medical persons or a mechanic some things may be incorrect, forgive me.

I only mention the year once, unless it changes.

Disclaimer: Me poor college student using time poorly, me broke ug. Don't sue me, waste of time.

January 6th 19:32

How different am I meant to feel?

Is it meant to make me, well, mature or something? Am I different to others?

Is it all relative?

Kar stared at me this morning. I think the light went on in his attic, while everyone else stays in the dark. At first it was shock, then mild amusement, then he beamed at me and winked. Is there a fricken sign over my head in Czech? I think he's jealous, like he's using me as something to measure up against. Suddenly he seems so boyish and he knows it. There is no sex appeal there. (Although I'm speaking from a slanted point of view because I will never ever ever think of Kar in that fashion, not even hypothetically. I can't believe my mom even hinted it—god, it's like incest.)

My dad walked into the lab a little later. He froze three feet from me and again I was being stared at. I felt like a specimen under glass. His mouth opened with that weird little gap and his eyebrows shot up.

"Did you change your hair?" he asked finally. I shook my head.

"New clothes?" Uh, no dad, like you even notice them anyway.

"Not make-up!" NO! I hate make-up, and he seems to like it that way.

"Give it up, Mr. McKay," interjected Kar, "It's a woman thing."

Dad gave me a wary look, "That time of the month?"

Oh my god. Guys just go away! How did dad and mom ever get together? (Oh, wait I know that story—everyone knows that story. Grabbing and kissing the city leader in front of everyone in the gateroom has that effect—it's so cute, Shepherd has pictures).

They didn't bring it up for the rest of the day, but that whole staring thing stuck around, even though my dad was really staring at Kar staring and smirking at me. I know my dad got the wrong idea; I know he's going to tell mom his wrong idea; and I'm positive Z will be aware of it by dinnertime.

This is gonna suck. I am not dating or mildly interested in your son. Well, duh. I'm completely interested in Kevin. But you and Kar are the only ones that know this. And this is the reason why, because I hate everyone knowing stuff, and talking about stuff, and screwing up the meaning of stuff, or awing and oooing at stuff.

Mom would want all the gooey girly info. Especially if I was with Kar, because I'm sure she imagines us being cute little geeks together. Dad would be suspicious, protective—annoying! So very annoying! And then he'd do a stuttering explanation if I caught him spying (which he is so capable of).

Secrets are nice, special, like the last flower of the season hidden away in a box, kept forever perfect and untouched. And love can be untouched, untainted by prying eyes. It can be like silk curtains in the invisible ocean wind, like the dancing of sand through fingers; it can be gentle and soft like the down of the Gliry bird (little spheres of fluff that can't fly and roll around the forest floor of Arali).

Love is beautiful. Damn it! I'm being all gooey! Aaaaaahhahahahahahahahahah. Damn it Kevin this is all you and your poems fault. Damn the poetry, it's so moving and profound and god, some of them make me cry. And I don't cry. Really I don't. Damn, I'm feeling all fuzzy inside. I wonder if everyone feels fuzzy inside when they fall in love?

I'll ask Kar if he ever does.