TITLE: Night of the Reindeer
AUTHOR: Wraithfodder
RATING: T
CATEGORY: Action/humor
SPOILERS: Based in season 2.
SUMMARY: Colonel Sheppard's team should never go through the gate on Christmas eve. It just never works out. An SGA Christmas tale..
PART 2
"Where is it?"
Rupert looked up from his cell culture as the Czech scientist barged into his lab like a miniature whirlwind. Zelenka's hair looked more frazzled than usual, sticking out here and there as though the man had stuck his finger in a light socket. In his line of work, maybe he did. Zelenka was babbling something loud and no doubt obnoxious, but Rupert didn't bother to stop him as he had work to do.
Radek Zelenka practically stomped up to the counter. "Well?"
"I don't speak Czech. Speak English," Rupert said with a thick layer of sarcasm.
"You know very well what I am talking about." Zelenka stood up to his full height, which still made him smaller and in Rupert's eyes, less significant. "Where is it?"
"Again, you're being unclear." Rupert wrote down some notations in a small notepad on his cell culture. Zelenka promptly snatched the pad away.
"You know very well what it it is that I am talking about," snapped Zelenka furiously. "It!"
"Oh, it," Rupert said with a laconic grin. "I got rid of it. What did you expect me to do with it? Keep it? Get real."
"Well, I need it!" demanded Zelenka.
"Nobody wants it." Rupert studied the Czech carefully. What on earth did he want with it? Nobody wanted it. That's why it was making the rounds on Atlantis like a vial of live anthrax spores.
"You gave it to someone, didn't you?" accused Zelenka.
Rupert laughed. "To the last person in the world who would ever want it."
Zelenka looked mortified. "No," he gasped.
"Oh yes," replied Rupert with a mirthful tug at his lips.
"Rodney will kill you."
"He's off-world, and it's with him." Rupert went back to his microscope. Ah, finally, he spotted what he was looking for.
"This is horrible!" Zelenka threw the notepad down on the counter, then dashed out of the room muttering more in Czech.
Rupert didn't see what the fuss what all about. After all, it was gone. Weren't they all better off now without it?
Oh yeah, breathing was required for being conscious. Sheppard sucked in a deep breath, then shook his head as awareness forced itself back into his mind. He found himself seated in a chair in a room. Heck, in a room. A far better cry from having his head stretched out on the chopping block. There was a large wooden table in front of him but luckily he didn't see any deep crevices where an axe might have fallen. Instead, it was just smooth and dark.
"Sheppard." His name, hissed at him like a snake, came from the side. Rodney was there too, tied to a chair just as he was. Sheppard realized he could feel his fingers. His wrists felt like hell. The coarse ropes had probably abraded off half the skin, but at least his limbs were attached to his body. Having his body in one living, breathing piece meant a heckuva lot to him at the moment.
"Rodney," Sheppard blinked. Looking further behind, he saw Teyla and Ronon similarly bound, although Ronon had a lot more rope tied around him and he was fastened to one of the big posts that supported the beamed roof above them. Guess Ronon had given them some more trouble. Good for him. "Um, where are we?"
"Well, after you fainted—"
"Hello, my head was nearly chopped off," Sheppard pointed out acerbically. "And it was—" He struggled for a second to remember the word. "Anoxia. Yup."
"In your dreams," snorted McKay.
"Stop it," interrupted Teyla. "We should be glad that we are all alive at this point in time."
"So, what's the token thing?" spoke up Ronon.
Token? Token? Wait, he remembered seeing a Christmas present right before the lights went out. Well, it was Christmas the next day or maybe it was today – how long had he been out? He thought he'd been hallucinating something nice and inane before he croaked.
A door slammed open, startling Sheppard and drawing all of their attention to the front of the room, which was empty save for them, the table and several chairs on the other side of the table.
Tersen, Cattan and some old guy who looked like a reject from central casting for Lord of the Rings with long gray hair and a heavy fur robe, came in and sat down in those chairs. They were very silent, staring at the team like they were deciding whether to drag them back to the chopping block. Sheppard sure hoped that wasn't the case.
Another man came in. He was big, hulk-like, and in staring at the man's hands, Sheppard realized it was thug #2. Hard to forget those massive fingers against his shoulders. He was gonna have bruises for sure. The thug set down an item in the middle of the table, right between Tersen and Sheppard, and then left. Okay, so he hadn't been hallucinating. It was a Christmas present.
"What token is this?" Tersen's intense stare was unnerving.
"Uh…" Sheppard turned to McKay. "Is that yours?"
"No," McKay replied quickly. "I've never seen it before in my life."
"It was in your backpack," Teyla said from behind. "Hidden at the bottom."
Both Sheppard and McKay exchanged a puzzled glance. Sheppard then coughed, cocked his head and stared at the package, thinking that the wrapping paper really was pretty tacky. "Well, why don't we just open it up and see?"
"Then you offer this as your token?"
Sheppard got the idea that he had better be really careful in what he said from now on and to whom. He turned his head, craning to get a look at Teyla. After all, who had more intel that she did about the locals in Pegasus. "Well?" he asked very quietly, almost a whisper. No use letting the Lubri think they were winging it.
Catching his hint, Teyla responded back with a whisper, but he couldn't quite catch what she said. "What?" he replied, leaning back in his chair. He felt his feet leave the floor and a second later his chair toppled over and he landed in Ronon's lap. The Setedan, who was tied down like a ship moored in a hurricane, looked down at him. "She said 'yes,'" Ronon growled. Teyla nodded in exasperation. A second later, thug #2 came over, dug his hand in the back of the chair and hauled Sheppard back up.
"Um, that would be a yes," Sheppard said, trying to regain his dignity.
The Lubri men discussed this answer very quietly amongst themselves. For a society that looked pretty primitive and was definitely of a bloodthirsty bent, they had very strange rituals. Sheppard just hoped the stupid wrapping wasn't concealing something lame like a manicure kit. If that was the case, they were toast.
After a moment's debate, Tersen began to examine the package. Out of the corner of his eye, Sheppard saw Rodney about to speak. He quickly kicked him in the ankle. "Ow, what did you do that for?" whispered McKay in a nasty tone. "Because you were going to say something!" Sheppard hissed back. "Because he's going to take forever to open it," complained McKay. Sheppard couldn't believe it. "And that's a bad thing!"
McKay turned around to get backup from the others but Teyla looked totally annoyed and Ronon just shot him a dark glare that sufficiently silenced any further outburst. Sheppard didn't care if Tersen took all day to open the damned thing; the longer it took, the longer they stayed alive.
Tersen apparently was one of those people who dissected Christmas gifts in a compulsive manner. Using a knife better suited for gutting large animals, he carefully sliced the invisible tape holding the wrapping together, in the same manner that a surgeon peels back the layers of someone's insides. Within minutes, the package was laid bare, exposing a long, glittery gold box. Sheppard stared at it, hoping to spot some print on it that would divulge its content, but darn, nothing.
Okay, it could be a pedicure kit. Or maybe Petits Fours. Hopefully Petits Fours: the ones that were preferably soaked in liquor. Sheppard did his best to look both encouraging and happy in what was going on, but he had the sinking feeling when they pulled off that top, they'd find some computer part. What else would someone gift McKay with after all?
Tersen pulled the lid off very carefully. Sheppard hadn't seen that kind of precision since watching a bomb squad defuse a suspect package on a base in Afghanistan. The lid was placed aside and unfortunately, it was at the wrong angle for any of them to see precisely what lay inside.
The Lubri leader uttered an audible gasp. Shock or delight? Sheppard couldn't tell. Catton and the older guy, who hadn't said a single word, both leaned in to stare at the contents of the box. The older guy's eyes bulged and he quickly turned to Tersen, whispering frantically in his leader's ears. Tersen in turn looked to Catton, who nodded his head in silent agreement. Before leaving the room, he glanced over all of Sheppard's team with an odd look that left Sheppard feeling very unsettled.
The door shut behind Catton with a loud slam. A second later, it opened again, revealing thug #1 and thug #2. Both carried very, very large knives. Very sharp knives that gleamed wickedly in the light that streamed in from the one solitary small window on the side of the room. Both men advanced on the hapless team tied to their chairs.
"We're going to die," came Rodney's doomed cry.
Crap. It was a pedicure kit.
"Dr. Zelenka."
Zelenka stopped in his tracks in the corridor, turning at Weir's voice. He smiled, but he realized he had to look as nervous as a cat surrounded by a dozen rocking chair. "Ah, Dr. Weir!"
The woman approached him from the end the corridor. She held an electronic otepad in hand. "I received your report on Section B2 on the east pier. It's quite fascinating."
"Yes," he beamed, momentarily forgetting the reason for his nervousness. "Dr. Beckett was quite interested in some of the equipment we found. It is very possible it is medical in nature."
"Well, anything medical will be of great help considering the way some of our teams are always getting injured," Weir said with a knowing smile. "Oh," she added. "Dr. Wilson said you might have located it."
"Yes, and no, Dr. Weir," Zelenka grimaced. He would have to remember never to do a favor for anyone again.
"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Weir looked a little disappointed, but at least not furious. "Please don't tell me someone threw it off a balcony."
"No no. Nothing quite that severe," he replied. "However…"
"I can take it," she said with a broad smile.
"Rodney has it."
Weir actually looked surprised. "But he wouldn't. Not in a million years…"
"Precisely. I believe it was 're-gifted' to him," explained Zelenka.
"As if he'd accept that as a gift." Weir frowned as though deep in thought. "Wait, he's off-world with Colonel Sheppard. He didn't take it—"
"Yes, I believe so, although he may not be aware he has it." Zelenka shrugged. The worst was now out.
"Oh well." Weir didn't seem at all angry, which was odd. "It's no problem."
"But Dr. Wilson indicated—"
"Oh, Dr. Wilson gets a little stressed from time to time, particularly at this time of year," explained Weir. She blinked, then smiled as though unsure of how to proceed. "I hope he didn't give you the impression that it was of vital important to retrieve—"
"Oh nonono," Zelenka waved his hands, realizing he was picking up bad habits from Rodney and now mentally kicking himself for getting too wrapped up in the hunt. "However, I assumed it would have been nice to have had it for--"
"It's perfectly fine," assured Weir. "We can do without it. It's not as though heads will roll if we don't have it."
To be continued...
Oops, and big thanks to Gaffer42 for her betaing:)