nny: (in over my head)
As usual, something from nothing. :D



"You are not enjoying the dances, Colonel?"

John looked over at Teyla, then back at the whirling, stomping mass of people and shrugged.

"I don't know. I just - mating dances. It's like something you'd see in a nature documentary, or something. I don't see how that's gonna help you pick your partner."

"I believe it tells you many things." Teyla's voice was steady and even, but John could tell she was a little pissed. "It shows coordination and teamwork, strength and skill, all traits of a fine hunter who will bring much to the home. Then there are - " she pointed at one dancer, at the subtle differences in the way he was moving - "choices that show appreciation for beauty, something of the dancer themself. And of course," She smiled, a small secretive smile, and John went back to watching the dancers again, "it shows much of a person's stamina. I met Kanaan at a celebration such as this."

"Well that's - I mean, that's great for you guys." John shifted, and an awkward silence fell between them for a few moments.

"You must remind me," Teyla eventually said, her face hard to read in the flickering golden firelight, "of your mating rituals on Earth."

John looked at her, surprised.

"Well we - we go to the movies, or dinner, or - I don't know, college football games maybe. And then I guess you, y'know," he shrugged and ducked his head a little, hoping the dim light would hide the slight flush, "sleep together, see if you're compatible. See what works."

Teyla studied his face for a moment.

"So you exchange your - money? - for a demonstration of the prowess of others, in situations that are not best suited for sociable conversation." She smiled slightly, one-sided, and looked back towards the dancers. "I see how I was mistaken. Clearly your ways are more suited to finding love." A quick sidelong glance. "I must ask Rodney to explain 'divorce rates' to me again."
nny: (High Fidelity)
This is a small snippet from the 'verse of a fic that is unfinished, inspired by something... that you cannot see yet.

*laughs*

Sorry! It'll happen soon, I promise! I've even uploaded the relevant icon! (from [livejournal.com profile] crysothemis, who is a star.)


'Yes, your new boyfriend is very attractive.' )
nny: (Admit it. You love me.)
The figure at the door scowled at them, eyes bright blue in its pale face.

"Well? Are you coming?" Fingers were snapped in their direction. "You'll tell me how the hell you ended up floating in the middle of the nowhere between galaxies, at some point, and more to the point how you persuaded Atlantis to let you in, but right now I've been asked to take you up to the control room to meet Sheppard and Carter. Smartest man in two galaxies and they ask me to take you up to the control room. You think that kind of thing's in my job description? Because I sure as hell don't."

One of the stowaways looked at the other, eyebrow raised. The other clutched his dressing gown a little tighter about himself and raised an eyebrow back.

"Wow," said Ford. "Deja vu."
nny: (didn't jack black write this song?)
For [livejournal.com profile] foreverdirt mostly, I think.



Zelenka crooned to it softly in Czech as he worked, but commentary was in English - this was traditional working formula while in the labs and maintained even when everyone else had found other places to be. (Orders barked in Czech did little but intimidate scientists further, he had found; this was sometimes, of course, the point.)

"Possibly," he told it, "you are in need of panel beating, but I suspect dents and rust are all that holds you together. We will do what we can."

Stargate team 38 had found it on a desert planet, unusual energy readings and glint of metal in the sun. (It is true that there were unlikely to be thirty eight teams in Atlantis, but Radek considered the number unimportant. It was a team with two marines, linguist, botanist; the number was no doubt almost so high.) They had brought it back, a curiosity, and Radek had of course berated them for carelessness - for who knew what it was - even as he had started to assess damage, hypothesise possibilities for use.

It had become easier when metal had cooled after long term exposure to sun, when he had been able to brush away caked sand and observe structure; long after others had left the lab, which was a blessing. After seeing the shape, Colonel Sheppard would not have been pried away from lab with even Archimedes' lever. But he had been left alone with (yes) robot, and with his head inside the casing his songs had even more pleasing harmonics than the restroom two floors above the infirmary.

There was much work to be done if he was to fix it, and he was too tired to do more than simplistic repairs, but he could not rest until something was done, at least.

"Žijeme," he sang, as he started to replace the diodes down the left side, "Žijeme v hotelu Zlomených srdcí!"

(Unregarded circuits, deep inside Marvin's processors, flickered happily to life and started to hum.)

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