Thanks everyone for all the reviews. They always mean a lot.
Chapter Two: Gonna Find out Who's Naughty or Nice
"Man, this place is a realy sty," Joe Riggs muttered through his black mask as he stepped gingerly over some unidentified something on the floor of the apartment they'd been sent to raid, "guess it's kinda hard to clean when you're in another galaxy though."
Joe looked up at the sound of muffled laughter, and grinned--though it couldn't be seen for the mask--at his partner before returning his attention to finding what he'd been sent for. McKay lived like a pig, so the odds of him leaving behind some kind of evidence for the work he did was high. Yet he and Carl had been here for two hours already and had found nothing but empty containers and half-eaten bags of chips.
With a resigned sigh--and an excuse ready for the big guys--he turned around to leave, calling, "C'mon Carl. There's nothing here. We've already been through everything."
"Not everything," Carl protested suddenly, making Joe look over at him. The other man was kneeling on the floor and holding up a wooden plank. "Jackpot," said Carl, lifting up a folder with the words Top Secret Classified printed on it in bold red ink and waving it about exuberantly.
Joe grinned and knelt beside him to look inside the little compartment. "Well well...who woulda thought a guy like McKay would think elves were important?" As he spoke, he pulled out a handful of tiny sculptures, presenting them to Carl with a flourish. "Should we take them too, do you think?"
"Don't be an ass, Joe," Carl admonished, "hey wait a minute. There's something funny about them elves...."
Frowning, Joe took a closer look at the tiny figurines in his hands. Sure enough, there was something strange about them. They looked...real. Not like the usual figurines you saw in the stores, but as though they had been alive and then turned to stone. Joe shivered and started to drop them back into the secret compartment, but stopped himself.
What was he, eight? The big guys would certainly love to get a load of these things. Maybe the SGC had found out something that the Trust didn't know about? That would mean he and Carl would get paid double. Maybe even triple.
"Carl my man," Joe gloated, patting his partner on the shoulder, "I do believe you were correct in saying 'jackpot'."
The other man just shook his head and stood up, slipping the folder into his jacket and heading for the door. "Whatever, we don't want to be late for this meeting. You know how they can be."
Joe grinned and put the elves into his pocket, then followed Carl out the door. They had just rounded a corner, when Carl suddenly threw his hands over his eyes. Joe frowned, and then had to do the same as a blinding red light eneveloped him, nearly burning his pupils. After a few minutes--when no attack seemed imminent--he tentatively put his arm down. The red light was gone.
However, they were no longer standing in front of Mckay's apartment building, but in a snowy landscape that seemed to stretch on for miles besides the large ornate two story house beside a factory of some sort. Joe turned around and around, trying to figure out what had happened. Finally, he determined that he was somewhere far up north judging by the fact that the only light that could be seen was a colorful array across the sky.
"Joe, you thinking what I'm thinking?" Carl asked shakily.
"You mean that someone is on to us and transported us to the middle of nowhere? If that's what you're thinking, then yeah," Joe replied just as shakily. Then he cursed. They had been so careful! Making sure none of the neighbors were home, that there were no cleaning people or maitenence to worry about. And all of it had been for nothing!
"Abso-friggin-nothing!" he shouted.
"Hey, calm down Joe," Carl said soothingly, "I've still got the folder, so maybe they didn't know about that particular raid."
Joe took a deep breath and then patted his pockets. Sure enough, the elf figurines were still there. "Right. So what we do now is figure out how to contact the big guys. See if they can spare someone to come get us."
"Which means we'll have to find a radio or a transmitter of some sort."
"Let's try the factory," Joe said after a few minutes, "this far out of the way, they've got to have something to communicate with and we want to keep out of contact with anyone else for as long as we can. Right?"
"Right."
So the two of them trudged through the thigh deep snow to the factory that, oddly enough had no snow on its doorstep despite the fact that it was still falling heavily.
"I got a bad feeling about this place, Joe."
"Me too, Carl, but just think...if this is some kind of alien outpost, or something the SGC has hidden...we're very rich men." Joe pushed the door open and stepped inside, just barely hearing Carl mutter, "if we ever get back to where we belong."
The factory was oddly silent. Not like at the end of a workday silent, but the silent of abandoment. As if someone had stopped operations midway and then packed up and left. Broken and unfinished toys littered the ground and conveyor belts, and statues similar to the elf figurines in his pocket stood frozen in position.
"Carl...this must be related to whatever McKay was into...look at those elves!"
Carl pulled his mask off to reveal shaggy blond hair and a clean cut face. "I noticed. But how did we miss this? I mean, this is--was--obviously a gigantic operation. Surely we would have known about it, or found it."
Joe pulled his own mask off, thankful that his bald head kept him from having hat hair like Carl. "Maybe it's got nothing to do with the SGC. Maybe its a Canadian operation."
"A Canadian operation?" Carl asked skeptically, "Not likely."
"Well...we are north somewhere, aren't we?"
"It could be any number of nations," Carl pointed out logically, "privately funded and...did you hear that?"
Joe frowned and looked around, listening. He started to shake his head, but then he too heard it. The sound of voices. Tensing, he pulled his gun out and slowly walked towards the sound, Carl taking the other way around. He stopped abruptly when he saw what it was.
Two children were standing near an elf statue. The little boy was holding up what looked like a snow globe, and the girl was holding a cat. He inched closer, and noticed Carl doing the same.
"By the power of the spirit, of those who believe," the boy was saying, holding tightly to the globe and squeezing his eyes shut, "take us to he who is and will always be." The kid opened his eyes and looked over at the elf.
"'He who is and will always be'? Kinda stupid isn't it?"
"Just watch, pipsqueak," the statue said, making Joe jump, "it'll work."
"It'll take us to where Santa is?" the little girl asked, "Are you sure Snippy?"
"Yes, Cassidy, it will. You just hold tight to Rudolph and...hey who are you and what are you doing here?"
Joe jumped again as Carl was suddenly sent sliding across the floor into the vision of the kids. "Stupid reindeer, can't even get a simple transportation spell right," the elf, Snippy? muttered. The cat hissed. "Darn it! The spell has already been invoked! And these two were in the range of hearing."
"Two," the little boy asked as Carl rose unsteadily to his feet, "Where's the other one?"
"No time for that, just don't let them get it."
And with those words, a sudden flurry of snow built up, obscuring his vision. A strange pulling sensation, almost like going through the Stargate filled him, and then he found himself sitting on his rump in the middle of a shallow stream in a temperate forest.
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The whole base had got into the spirit, John Sheppard noted with approval as he walked down the corridors of Atlantis. Though there was no real mistletoe, or holly or garland, they'd all made do with things they'd traded with the Athosians or made out of junk that couldn't be recycled from Atlantis itself. All in all it was a good effect, and a good feeling to see everyone in the Christmas spirit.
"Is all this really necessary do you think, Major?" Rodney McKay muttered as he walked alongside him, "I mean, sure it's Christmas back home but..."
Well almost everyone.
"Of course it's necessary, McKay. It wouldn't be Christmas without it," John assured the acerbic scientist, wondering why he was living up to people's expectations that he would be the Grinch or the Scrooge.
"Why? Why wouldn't it be?" McKay asked, suddenly sounding odd, "why can't it just be about..."
Whatever it was the man had been going to say was cut off by Teyla-- who had joined them at one of the intersections-- asking, "What is Christmas?"
John grinned. He loved telling her about Earth things, and this particular holiday was one of his favorites. "Oh it's..." but he was cut off by McKay.
"It's seeing snow for the first time, realizing that you're loved no matter what you've done, spending time with your family, even if for the rest of the year you don't really speak to them...watching a child's face light up as they watch snow falling..."
"...and presents," John interjected, a little annoyed, "can't forget the presents."
A sad little smile appeared on McKay's face. "No," he said softly, "we can't forget the presents, can we?" Then he turned and began walking stiffly the opposite way.
John frowned and watched his departure. "What's with him?"
"Perhaps he is sad not to be with his family during an obviously important ritual?" Teyla suggested.
"Maybe," John hedged, "but I didn't know he had any family left. From what I read of his profile, he's an only child and his parents are dead. I'm gonna go talk to him." He followed the physicist's tracks, figuring McKay would go to his lab.
Sure enough, the scientist was sitting at a desk, running a system diagnostic that was probably unnecessary. John stood in the doorway for a minute, debating on how he wanted to approach this. Finally, he decided confrontational would be best. Mckay would often say things he didn't want to when upset.
"What that all about?"
McKay looked up in surprise, then an annoyed expression crossed his face. "What was what all about? You mean me not liking this whole Christmas on Atlantis thing? What, is it a rule now that we have to love every little thing you think is a good idea? Thanks for sending me the memo. I could have used it."
John frowned. "What is wrong with celebrating Christmas on Atlantis?"
"Nothing! For other people. I just don't like it is all. Is that a crime?" McKay threw down the tool he'd been using, letting it clatter to the ground unnoticed, "Well if it is, then you'd better go ahead and arrest me, because I. Don't. Like. It." He folded his arms across his chest and glared.
"Right. That's why you went all sentimental when you were telling Teyla what Christmas was," John told him, noting with satisfaction that Rodney had the grace to look sheepish, "Fine. You don't like this celebration we're doing. Could you at least shut up and let everyone else enjoy it?"
McKay frowned at him, arms still crossed. Then he sighed in resignation and let them fall to his side. "Whatever, I need to get this done. Now, where is my...ah there it is..." his attention was once again soley taken up with his task.
It wasn't exactly what John had had in mind when he'd set out to talk to McKay. However, he did know now that this whole Christmas thing was really bothering the scientist. Dr. Weir would probably be interested to know that. She might be able to suggest something to help considering she was the only one McKay seemed to listen to at times like this.
tbc....