"ARRGGH!" yelled Radek Zelenka.
"Eeek!" screamed Miko Kusanagi.
"What the fu…?" shouted John Sheppard.
As Dr. Zelenka made his way through the corridors, hoping to be first in for what just past for coffee, he heard a shout of surprise similar to the one he'd made earlier as he walked by one of the quarters; clearly, Lt. Cadman was not an early riser and also did not appreciate a stone-cold shower.
As the occupants of Atlantis drifted into the mess hall for breakfast, there was only one topic of conversation: Where had all the hot water gone? As Zelenka listened to snatches of conversation while he waited at the serving hatch, the problem seemed to be city-wide. Everyone seemed to have had an unpleasant experience when they stepped into their showers this morning.
Strange, he thought, I ran a diagnostic on the city's plumbing systems not more than a week ago.
"Bore da, Radek."
Radek shook himself out of his thoughts. "Hmm? I apologise; what did you say Dr. Davies? Sit down, please." Dr. Zelenka indicated the empty space opposite him.
The tall engineer laughed as he pulled the chair out, his tray balancing precariously on his other hand. "Oops, sorry, I said good morning," he said cheerfully, his accent marking his as Welsh in origin.
"Forgive me Llewellyn, but I do not believe that a morning which begins with a nasty cold shower could be a good morning."
"You too?" Dr. Davies asked incredulously. "What could have malfunctioned?"
"I do not know; it is unusual for a problem with the plumbing to affect more than a handful of people."
"Well, whoever it was, they'd better be running for the hills right now," said a new voice from behind Zelenka. "Mind if I join you two?"
"Not at all; please sit, Lydia," said Radek, gesturing at an empty seat with his fork.
"Shw'mae Dr. Winter. Are you over 'Hurricane McKay' yet?" asked Dr. Davies.
Dr. Lydia Winter just glared at the Welshman.
"Apparently not, then."
"Never mind about that. Why do you say that the person responsible should be running for the hills, Lydia?"
"Because I reckon quite a few people are pissed this morning!"
Dr. Davies just snorted. "And you'd know all about being pissed at someone, wouldn't you?"
"Dr. Davies…"
"Nah, call me Llewellyn."
"Ok, Llewellyn then, if you'd spent three weeks doing research and then some egotistical prick goes and scribbles all over it in a big fat black marker, supposedly correcting it when infact said prick is using a different hypothesis, can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't want to wring his bloody neck too?"
"Whoa!" said Llewellyn, holding up his palms in the international gesture of peace, "I'm on your side!"
"Is that why you've been working in your private lab, Lydia?" Radek asked kindly.
"Yep. I've had to start all over again."
"Poor dab! We've all run afoul of the beast that is McKay; haven't we, Radek? I must admit, we're all for you. Go Lydia!"
"Rodney has been very quiet recently, though I fear that it will not last long!"
"Not if I had my way!"
"If you had your way, we'd be sending Dr. McKay home in a body bag!" countered Zelenka.
"Exactly!"
"You might want to lay off that idea," warned Llewellyn.
"Why? Have you got a better one?" snarked Lydia.
"Sure do."
A/N: Thanks to BiteMeTechie and her fic 'Retribution' and for the use of the character Dr. Lydia Winter. Please go and read it; it's fantastic.
Dr. Llewellyn Davies, however, is entirely my own creation, feel free to use him if you wish. All I ask is that you do not make up any Welsh dialogue for him – growls threateningly - as it is a beautiful language which I love. Just ask if you want translations, OK? Speaking of which:
Bore da – Good morning (bor-a daa)
Shw'mae – Hello (shh-mye)
Dab – creature, thing (daab)
Sorry for the poor pronunciation explanations; it's difficult to write them for what is essentially a phonetic language that you've been speaking all your life!
I should point out that 'dab' isn't really Welsh, but something which is sometimes referred to as 'Wenglish' – a cross between Welsh and English that is found in the South Wales valleys in the old coal mining areas, which has led to a sort of language that has its own phrases and colloquialisms, even if its just in the way ordinary English is pronounced. Sounds crazy, but you have to live here to really understand it. However, this may tickle some of you: The Wenglish phrase for a disreputable person is – and I kid you not – 'a Rodney.' Hmmm…
Ok, I've finished ranting about Welsh (for now!)