AN: Thanks for all your reviews. As promised I'm now back to business, continuing the ramble and rattle about second season.
Have fun.
xxxxx
Slowly Rodney recovered from the shocking impact Carson's handmade Christmas cards had had on him. He sank back against the wall and grabbed a letter further from the top of the stack:
Dear Mum,
Now that I'm back to work the first thing I do is write you. Somehow things around here have become a smidgen more stressy than they used to be. I think it all started with our trip back here that was actually bloody creepy if you ask me, but nothing for you to worry about.
It's hard enough to get the new personnel settled in, but of course some people don't really care about that:
Rodney has been tormenting me with his sunburnt nose for two days now. He's so much like a wee, wailing bairn. If I ever hear him utter the words "My nose is peeling" again I think I'll bloody well loose it.
And Dr Biro hasn't been much of a help during my absence, either. I'll never ever leave my desk to her again, that's for sure. You want to know why? She has constantly been filing her nails and hasn't cleaned away all the muck she's left behind. (By the way I'm still missing my hole-puncher...)
So, I think I've complained enough.
Hopefully you don't miss me too much. It's a pity that I've forgotten to take all these letters back home with me, though I'll surely bring them along next time, so then you won't have any reason to feel lonely.
Lots of Love, your son Carson.
Oh, great, Rodney thought. Somehow Carson was being a softy again. He was unnerved because of his poor, horribly hurting, burnt nose and that after the courageous McKay had probably saved his sensitive Scottish behind from a cold death in space.
Grumbling he fished for the next folded paper in his reach...
xxxxx
Meanwhile Carson had made himself comfortable on Rodney's bed, flipping to the next diary entry.
Dear Diary,
Dang, what a flight back here! First of all a stupid Wraith virus infested the Daedalus's computers threatening to finish us all, then Sheppard and me flew damn close to the corona of a sun saving our people's butts. And Sheppard really told me that I did a good job. I think he was referring to me not completely freaking out because of this horrid flight style of his. I wanted to show him how it really works, but he wouldn't let me, the little show-off...
Oh, and, yeah, I've burnt my nose. It's still peeling as hell, so, sorry if I completely soil you with falling skin flakes. If you want to complain please go and see a certain Scottish doctor whose moisturizer isn't working well enough.
But know what? I think I've made an interesting acquaintance. That little Asgard that's working in the Daedalus's engine room, called Hermiod I think. We seem to share the same ideas about crappy situations and happen to have the same humor. (Otherwise I'd become cynical as well if I had to spend my days alone with Dr Novak and her hiccups, even as an Asgard...)
Well, I think that's it for now, got to go, show some of the new guys who's the boss in the lab .
Yours, Rodney
P.S.: Note to myself: I should really look for my sun cream before I fry my sensitive skin like that again.
Carson chewed his lip. What was so wrong about the moisturizer? Everybody was fine with it, but of course baby Rodney needed something else. Perhaps next time he should pour a jug of maple syrup over his next sorry sunburn.
xxxxx
Dear Darleen,
Sorry I'm gone again and didn't take you with me. I hope you're no too mad at me, but there was no way. Otherwise you'd be happy not to be around right now. I'm only unnerved at the moment. Nobody's listening to me, not talking about their not following medical orders. In other words: I'm bloody being shoed around, it's like "Carson this, Carson that" all the time. Really who am I, their personal nurse or their CMO?
Besides I'm feeling kind of less qualified toward all the others that are around my infirmary right now. I know you said that I'm wrong, but I just can't help it.
Looks like I've got to get back to work right now, wee Rodney is yelling for his lotion again, the weakling.
See you soon. Kisses, Carson
P.S.: Sorry I forgot to bring you all the things I've written to you in the past year. You'll get an even bigger pile when I come home next time.
So he was really fixed on riding around on the sunburn affair, huh? That was not very nice of him. Actually reason enough for a little aftermath. Rodney was really looking forward to that...
xxxxx
AN: I think that's it for the moment. More soon. Don't know how you feel about it, but I'm really into the way little Hermiod curses, it's cute somehow.
See you, Baalsgirl )