Woolsey's Waterloo

Mairghread sat on the floor of the living room, playing with the rag doll Rodney had given her for her first birthday while Mommy, Daddy, Uncles John, Rodney and Carson and Auntie Elizabeth talked with Grandpa O'Neill.

"I've talked Woolsey into recommending only that someone should pop out here every now and then to keep an eye on things and all security footage should be forwarded to earth," finished O'Neill.

"So, Woolsey's not going to make trouble? No execution orders? No brig-for-a-bedroom?" asked Sheppard incredulously as he and the other's shared a bottle of very old, very good whiskey O'Neill had brought with him and broken out to celebrate "Woolsey's Waterloo".

"Nope," replied Jack, leaning back and grinning. "His report will be glowingly approving of this whole…thing," he finished lamely.

"I wonder why," mused Weir, leaning forward in her best tell-me-now-or-else-school-marm way.

"I should think the fact that I threatened to bring him up before the ethics committee had something to do with it," quipped the general casually as he refilled his glass.

"Ethics committee?" snorted McKay. "Not torture? Sudden, painful death?"

"Ah," said O'Neill sagely. "There is nothing like an ethics committee to scare a bureaucrat."

"What would he have to worry about?" wondered Sheppard.

Jack snorted into his whiskey. "A lot actually," he told them. "You should hear the things he said when we were 'deliberating'. Most of what he said could be taken in a very bad way by an international council," he said with a smile.

"You're not serious," scoffed Mckay. "He's absurdly PC."

"Only when he knows that what he says is public record," countered O'Neill. "Fortunately, where I stay is always bugged, supposedly for my own good," he waved his hand dismissively. "And believe it or not, I actually have some friends on the council.

"Besides," he said, putting his glass down and scooping Mairghread into his lap. "My threat assessment counts for more than his, and I find his arguments that this pumpkin is a threat to intergalactic security wholly unconvincing," he turned Mairghread to look at him. "You don't have any plans to take over the galaxy, right Mary?"

Mairghread shook her head. Galactic domination was a silly thing.

Grandpa had shortened her name (because it was long and funny to pronounce), but she didn't mind once the adults had explained 'nick names' to her.

Nick names are generally one or two syllable contractions of full names for the purpose of brevity and are often used to indicate familiarity with a person. "Nick" is an example of a nick name, being short for Nicholas.

"Pumpkin?" inquired Teyla. She had become used to many terms of endearment used among the expedition, but she was unfamiliar with this one. And if she recalled correctly, a pumpkin was a large orange squash they liked to turn into a pie.

"Yeah, it's like 'honey', 'dear', 'sweetheart'," explained Sheppard. "Like Carson always calls her 'chuisle' and 'cadsearc'."

"Oh."

Dang, ding, dang, dong. Dong, dang, ding, dang. Dang dong dang dong. Dong dang ding dang. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong.

Carson's laptop (brought along with no particular purpose in mind), rang out the Westminster Chimes and sounded ten o'clock.

"Carson, why did you install a grandfather clock on your computer?" asked Sheppard, shocked.

"Ah couldn't vera weel bring a real chiming clock here, could Ah?" asked the Scotsman. "Bloody hell, with all the things ye do tae this city, it'd nae'r survive!"

"More importantly, an earth clock would only have 24 hours on it," commented McKay as he looked at the laptop in question. "Carson's had it modified to have 30."

"Whatever," interjected Jack, who stood up, a holding a yawning Mairghread. "Time for bed," he told her.

She stuck out her lower lip and pouted. "Don't wanna."

"Tha thu sgìth," Carson said to her as she yawned again. "Cuiridh sinn ort an gùn-oidhche."

Teyla quietly translated for everyone else, "Carson has told her, loosely, you are tired, lets get you ready for bed."

"How'd you learn to speak that sheepshearer gobbled-gook?" demanded McKay.

Teyla dipped her head. "Dr. Beckett has been most kind in helping to establish a routine with Mairghread. And she seems more…comfortable…when she is spoken to in his language."

She took Mairghread from Jack's arms.

"Say goodnight and thank you," she directed the child.

"'night and thank you," said Mairghread around a yawn as Teyla carried her into her bedroom.

"Hey, Ronon, did you guys reorganize this place? I just realized there aren't any beds here anymore," observed Sheppard as they sat down again to finish their drinks.

"Yeah. Made this the livin' room, used the other three as bedrooms," Ronon replied.

"Still separate beds, eh Chewie?" asked Rodney snidely.

Ronon gave him the death-glare, and McKay promptly wiped the smirk off his face.

"Sir—" started Sheppard.

Jack held up his hand. "Say no more, Colonel. It's not my job, I don't want to know."

"Yes sir."

"Now," said the general. "Who's gonna help me finish this bottle of excellent Irish whiskey?"

TBC

Next: Growing Pains

A/N: I think I remember them saying somewhere that Atlantis has a 30 hour day. Can someone verify or correct me?