It was a dark and wintry night... (SGA)

[tari_roo]

It was a Dark and Wintry Night....

Author: Tari_Roo

Rating: PG13 (Gen)

Fandom: SGA

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing

AN: 2nd comment fic for kriadydragon 's gencomment fic exchange (go, read, write, its addictive!).  Prompt below.

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There is only one thing worse than mud, and it is cold mud. The kind of mud created from intermittent snow fall, boggy marsh and flooded fields. It all added up to a quagmire of misery and potential hypothermia.

There wasn’t much to sell PXC675 on, it was wet and muddy 99% of the time. But it had wicked huge crops of stuff so similar to wheat that it saved Atlantis more money in the effort of bargaining for their harvest than the cost of shipping flour out on the Deadalus. And that included making it into flour in the nifty ancient labour saving devices, or NALSDs.

Trade negotiations concluded, quagmire navigated and spirits dampened, Team Sheppard stepped through the wormhole event horizon into a decided chilly reception. And for once it wasn’t as a result of a failure to complete paperwork, a belated prank or bad news, but genuinely because there was no heat. At all.

PXC675 was on a diurnal rotation opposite to Atlantis, so it was already after midnight Atlantis time as they left the soggy sunshine behind them. Add to that the fact that New Lantea was in the middle of winter and it made for a cold and dim welcome home.

“What the hell?”

Chuck, wrapped in a parka he had probably last used in Antarctica, stood and shouted in the frosty air, “Sorry, sir. Minor glitch in the system.”

Burrowing down into his damp jacket, Sheppard groused, “How in the hell is this minor? Rodney?”

McKay however was staring at the dark room, his breath foggy in the air, a stunned disbelieving expression on his face even as his fingers ran over his tablet without conscious effort. He was mouthing a soundless litany of ‘No, no, no, no, no....”

“Yes, Rodney, Yes! Did I not warn you?” An abominable Czech, wrapped in so much heavy snow gear that only his glasses were visible amidst the fake fur stepped out of the gloom like an apparition.

Rodney was still shaking his head, fingers operating in complete independence as his stunned gaze turned to Zelenka. “I fixed this, I swear I did, I fixed this!”

“No, Rodney, you thought you did. I told you it couldn’t be that easy to turn off scheduled maintenance, but the great Rodney McKay is never wrong!” Zelenka  crowed, a bemittened finger jabbing at Rodney.

Shivering in earnest, Sheppard pulled Teyla towards him, wrapped an arm around her and said, “Somebody better start explaining quick, before Ronon shoots some... thing.”

Ronon’s long leather coat was creating a puddle beneath them all and he looked.... itchy, or rather his finger did.

Rodney stammered and Zelenka chirped in smoothly, “Atlantis has scheduled maintenance runs, which include shutting everything down at least every 2 years. On Old Lantea the complete shut down of power and heating was scheduled in summer. When we came to New Lantea, the seasonal cycle did not match up and now... we are in the middle of winter without power or heating.”

John however immediately leapt to a more immediate concern, “What about the shield and chair?”

“Emergency power, still operational.”

“And you can’t...”

“No, we tried. Have been trying, are still trying but Rodney was oh so sure that he’d...”

Rodney finally gathered himself enough to yell, “Oh and like you don’t make mistakes, Mr Pigeon’s Make Wonderful Pets!”

If Zelenka was embarrassed it was impossible to tell under all the layers. Instead he ignored that and said calmly, “Mr Woolsey has ordered everyone to the dining area where the Marines have constructed a bonfire and we are huddling for warmth.”

And that didn’t sound too bad.

Until John and his now icy team reached the canteen and saw the fire. It was tiny, controlled and barely big enough to light the room. There were cups of coffee, hot chocolate and tea on offer but that was it. Most of the good spots were gone, the floor an array of sleeping bags and blankets , like an artificial landscape.

Decidedly down about the situation, Sheppard and co traipsed off their quarters for dry clothes. Zelenka grabbed his fourth cup of coffee and sat down to wait for Rodney, so that he could berate him some more. After about 20 minutes, he began to wonder what was taking so long and if Rodney was that embarrassed that he would prefer to freeze to death than take the abuse.

After 35 minutes, Zelenka wondered if they had perhaps got lost in the dark, and immediately dismissed that with a laugh.

By 45 minutes, he got a little worried. After an hour, he decided to go check on them, so he did. Flash light at the ready, Zelenka headed towards Rodney’s quarters, knocked and found them empty. Ronon was next and empty too. Teyla was the next logical stop, but a vague notion bloomed in his head and he headed towards Sheppard’s quarters.

His knock was unanswered, and when he triggered the door release, the rush of warm air was invigorating. “Shut the door!”

Rodney’s voice was muffled and as Zelenka stepped in and shut the door behind him, he felt his face warm in the ambient heat. An odd Ancient device was sitting on Sheppard’s desk generating a lovely heat. Sheppard’s bed had been pushed to one side and the entire team were collapsed on the floor, wrapped in a combination of military issue blankets, furry rugs from Ronon’s quarters and soft wool quilts from Teyla’s.

And it looked damned cosy.

Teyla and Sheppard had somehow lucked out by getting the middle spots and only Sheppard’s dark hair was visible over the all the blankets. Rodney was glaring at Zelenka, lying closest to the door, daring him to comment. Ronon was snoring loudly, and seemed to have pulled a hat over his dreads.

“What?” Rodney, the only one awake snapped.

And Zelenka thought. He thought about the potential material for mockery, long running gags and office memos. He thought about all the times Rodney had berated him, mocked him and derided him.  And he thought about how cold his toes were, despite three layers of socks, and that the tip of his nose was frozen and that he was still damn, damn cold.

“Move over, Rodney.”

“What, no! Go away.”

“Move over now and I won’t tell anyone.”

Rodney glared, he glared like he had never glared before, before shuffling up and making room for Zelenka.

The small Czech stripped off the top layers and then climbed down into the layered blankets and instantly sighed, “Gah, so good, so warm!”

Rodney grumbled and shifted and nudged Teyla, who then moved more into Sheppard who absently threw an arm over her, realised it was freezing out of the blanket and pulled it back under the covers and then pulled her close.

And Zelenka? Zelenka took great delight in shuffling closer to Rodney, much to the man’s dismay and saying, “Good night, Rodney.”

“G’night Rodney, nite Teyla,” murmured Sheppard.

“Good night, Sheppard. Good night, Ronon.”

“Shut up!”

*

Fin

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Prompt: bed sharing
Characters: John, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney
Request: Team arrives back in Atlantis after a long OW mission. Cue exhaustion, maybe a little hurt, to find heating in Atlantis is not working. Very cold and team gathers one at a time to share someones bed for warmth. Maybe Lorne or Elizabeth comes looking for them and finds a very sweet puppy pile!
Don't want: Woolsey or Rodney dragged away to fix heating problem.

Comments

[2bluaeryn.livejournal.com]

Beyond team cuteness!

[tari-roo.livejournal.com]

Thanks :)

Like your icon!

[montybird.livejournal.com]

Blackmailing Zelenka, hee hee! Fun little team fic. I can just picture them huddled there and then Radek climbing in.

[tari-roo.livejournal.com]

Yeah... a pile I wouldn't mind joining either :) Thanks for the comment.

[e313.livejournal.com]

so cuuuute! and this:

“Good night, Rodney.”

“G’night Rodney, nite Teyla,” murmured Sheppard.

“Good night, Sheppard. Good night, Ronon.”

“Shut up!”

muhuhuhuh! :D

[tari-roo.livejournal.com]

:) Thanks. Glad you liked it!