Stargate Atlantis: Season's Greetings2
Ghost of Christmas Present
"John! John! John!"
John Sheppard scowled at the voice calling, demanding him. He knew the increasingly irascible voice all too well and he strode towards it. His boots were loud, clomping on the floor to convey his annoyance and anger as he strode through the cafeteria. Men and women parted for him, seeing the foul mood of the military commander of Atlantis. "What? What?" he snapped finally, pausing near a scene of holiday chaos.
A huge tree was being erected in the center of the room. It was a large evergreen, culled from another planet and brought through the Stargate. Marines were arguing, gesturing, swearing as they tried to turn the tree this way and that, balancing it as scientists were busily positioning it into a tree holder and turning the screws to keep it upright and possibly straight.
"No no no no no to the right, the right! No, my right, not yours!" Rodney McKay stood like a general marshaling his troops, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. Boxes and boxes of ornaments and garland and lights were gathered around him, just waiting to be put upon the tree. People waited too, eager to decorate and celebrate the Christmas holidays although far, far from home. Teyla Emmagan was holding her baby Torren, a look of amusement and curiosity on her face, mirroring the Athosians near her. Ronon Dex appeared utterly baffled.
"McKay! What the hell is this?" John snapped.
Rodney met his gaze. "What's it look like, Sheppard? A Christmas tree! We could have used your help, you know! I need you to direct these marines of yours! Apparently they don't know left from right!"
"Would that be your left or your right?" Evan Lorne quipped as he appeared suddenly from around the tree. Pine needles were stuck in his hair. "Sir?"
"As you were, major." John clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his head. "Seems you have things in hand, Rodney."
"No no no no no your other right! There! There, hold her steady! Zelenka, get it tight all the way round!" Rodney ordered.
"I know how to put up a Christmas tree!" the Czech scientist muttered, on his hands and knees beneath the boughs as he tightened the screws. He began to mutter in Czech.
"Ah, John, here!" Carson Beckett, or rather his clone shoved a cup of eggnog towards John, forcing him to grab it before it spilled along his black uniform. "Happy holidays, colonel! We are going to decorate the mess hall and the infirmary! I wish we could put a tree in the 'Gate room!" he enthused, his Scottish accent rising above the music blaring from the speakers.
"I told you how dangerous that is! The event horizon would swallow it whole!" Rodney argued. "And we already tried that," he admitted with a shrug. "No, a little to the right, there! The left, then! Banks, come on!"
Amelia Banks scowled but winked at Ronon who smiled. "Sorry, Rodney. How's that?" She had a firm grasp of the tree and shifted her position.
"Ignore him, Amelia! He's just a grouch because someone ate all the popcorn!" Jennifer Keller jested, smiling at him as she began to dig through a box of garlands.
"How was I to know that was for decorating?" Rodney argued, but he smiled at the blond doctor before resuming his direction of the tree. "There! Nobody move, except for Radek! John, if you would lend a hand—"
"Hell no. I think Radek's got it under control," John said. He set the cup of eggnog aside with distaste. He looked round. Everyone was joking, jesting. Even the arguments were good-natured.
"Come on, colonel. You will enjoy this," Alison Porter said with a smile. The lovely doctor moved to Carson, touched his arm in passing. Carson smiled at her.
"Where the hell did all of this stuff come from?" John asked.
"Me." Richard Woolsey popped up from behind a tower of boxes. He was holding a Santa Claus hat. "I think we need to celebrate a proper Christmas for once, now that we are back in the Pegasus galaxy. Come on, John, help us decorate the tree!"
"Yes, John, come help us! I'm sure you'd be a whiz at untangling the lights," Carson said.
"Don't mind him! He's being a real Grinch about this," Rodney grumbled.
"Me? Who is the Scrooge that ate all the popcorn?" John retorted.
"I told you that was an accident! We can get more, can't we? Come on, John, join us!" Rodney urged, taking his friend's arm but a sudden snap made him whirl. The tree was tilting wildly to one side. "Damn it! What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything! The screw broke!" Radek called from under the tree.
"Hang on! I can fix this! Same thing happened to me when I was a kid!" Evan scrambled under the tree. "Hold her steady!"
"We are! Ronon, help us!" Amelia called, body swaying with the massive tree.
Ronon smirked and joined her, grabbing hold of the tree and keeping it upright. "I still don't understand this odd custom of yours," he grumbled, but he smiled at her.
"You'll understand the mistletoe soon enough," Ann Teldy jested, and everyone laughed. The blond major paused, eyes on the handsome colonel standing aloof until he met her gaze and she turned back to the tree.
John watched them. He was glad they were happy, enjoying themselves. His friends were with their friends and their lovers and just relaxing into a celebration after so much peril and loss and tragedy. Now that they were back in the Pegasus galaxy things could get back to normal, at least by Atlantis standards. Still he felt he couldn't take part. It was unpleasant. It was grating. It was annoying.
Grabbing a beer from the back he left the room, preferring to be alone.
The soft strains of music drew him. He traversed the lower levels, following the inexplicable sound of Christmas music. A faint blinking glow led him to the doorway of a lab. He entered, paused. The room was mostly dark. Consoles were softly beeping, a strange accompaniment to the holiday music whispering from the speakers. A small tree was perched on a computer. Tiny lights blinked in a merry greeting of red and green and blue and gold.
There was a woman seated at a console, typing and pausing, typing and pausing. John neared, curious. The blinking lights fell upon her white lab coat, upon her brown hair loosely tied back in a ponytail. Muted lights blinked upon her plain face that was drawn in serious concentration as she typed, paused. Typed, paused.
John took a sip of his beer. He cleared his throat. Took another sip and licked his lips as she turned, startled. "Doctor O'Meara," he identified.
Moira O'Meara nearly jumped at the raspy, male voice. She stared at the handsome man looming over her. He was clad in black from head to toe. The colored lights danced faintly upon the long, lean lines of his body, along his handsome, stubbly face, along the perfect curve of his lips as he licked them again before taking another drink from the bottle he held. She found her voice. "Colonel Sheppard."
He stepped closer, glancing past her to the computer and seeing a jumble of words and formulas. He met her gaze, leaning on the console's table. "Why aren't you with the rest upstairs, decorating?"
"I was working," she explained, her gaze falling along his body again before she met his gaze. She stared into his green eyes a moment before adding, "Why aren't you?"
He smiled a moment. He shrugged. "Not really in the mood."
"Oh." She turned back to her work, then back to him.
John found himself uncomfortable as her brown eyes assessed him. "What work? On those aliens?" He glanced again at the computer monitor, back to her. He took another sip of beer.
"Yes." Moira found herself strangely fascinated by the way he sipped the beer. The way his perfect lips encircled the bottle and his long fingers lifted it. The way he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he titled back his head. The way he licked his lips to savor every last drop of the beverage before he lowered it again. The way one finger tapped idly on the label, as if he couldn't quite keep still.
"And?"
"Nothing yet. What I really need…what I really need is a live specimen…or, or tissue." She frowned, hearing the slight stammer in her voice. She looked away, biting her lower lip a moment.
John watched her, seeing her shyness, her uncertainty, but her determination as well. She made a soft, soft sound in her throat as she freed her lip and John shifted a little, responding to it. He studied her as she eyed the monitor. He touched her shoulder briefly. "Wanna sip?"
She turned to him, startled by his touch, by the offer as he held the bottle towards her. She smiled. "No thank you, colonel."
"Ah." He shrugged, drank some more. He looked round the lab, seemingly content to remain.
Moira watched him, imagining tasting it from his lips instead of the bottle. She let the fantasy play in her mind, almost moving to her feet to enact it, to realize it but she inwardly laughed at herself and instead asked, "Did you need something, colonel?"
"Me? No. And call me John," he invited with a smile. "Moira, right?"
"Yes. You, you remembered," she commented, surprised.
"Yeah. Of course." He was oddly serious.
Moira found herself captivated. She suddenly moved to her feet, to stand and John straightened, turning to her as he set the beer bottle onto the console. A thousand words came and went but none made it past her tongue until she finally decided and was about to speak.
"John! Here you are!" Rodney entered, smiled. He glanced round the lab, at the pair. "We need you in the control room! We've got an incoming wormhole. Reynolds and his team. Oh! We've got the tree up and we are decorating it! It looks spectacular too! I think we should have Ronon put the star on top! You know, like the Abominable Snowman! Come on!"
"Okay, Rudolph." John smiled, shrugged and turned to leave. He took a few steps away from her as Rodney disappeared down the hallway.
Moira watched him go, conflicting emotions a whirlwind inside of her. She glanced at the beer bottle he had left, then back to him.
John paused and turned back. He stepped to her and touched her arm. "I'll see you later, right?"
Moira's breath caught in her throat, but she managed to reply, "Yes, of course. Of course, John." She smiled.
He smiled, nodded. He strode out of the room after his friend.