december 2005
http://cakehole.org/zedpm
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The day Sheppard leaves for the mainland is the day one of the chemists gets lost on the way back to the lab. Rodney sends his least favorite scientists to collect him; armed only with stunners and their wits, they search for half an hour before stumbling upon the wayward Dr. Hongo. Zelenka radioes Elizabeth to report the scientist's condition (both arms, both legs, no, he is not injured, but is very grumpy) and they trudge as a group toward the infirmary.
It isn't ten minutes before Kavanagh lets out a yell and disappears from sight. The others angle their flashlights in his direction, revealing Kavanagh's booted foot and a pile of Ancient technology, abandoned in the corner of a storage room.
"Dr. McKay, have found something you will like," Zelenka says, ignoring the indignant crackling in his earpiece. "Will tell you about it in lab."
"Well?" Rodney fixes Zelenka with a glare as the Czech trundles in, shouldering a gigantic pack. He bounces on the balls of his feet, trying not to explode with impatience. "It took you seventeen—no, eighteen minutes to get here. You know how much I hate waiting, and so does the rest of the civilized world, but yet here I am, waiting."
Zelenka makes a scolding noise, reaching inside the pack with deliberate slowness. "Rodney, you are so arrogant, you know? The Pegasus galaxy, at least, does not revolve around you."
"Whatever, Radek, hurry up."
Patiently, Zelenka pulls out what appears to be a mass of cords. At Rodney's exasperated "that's it?!", he grabs Rodney's hand and places it on the pile. "Watch, Rodney." It takes over a minute, but the cords slowly come to life and form a cone of blinking lights, suspended above the table.
"It's a Christmas tree," Rodney says breathlessly. After a second or two, the whole thing shuts off, collapsing over the lab into a tangle of wires, and Rodney sucks in a breath. "What happened? It must work with the ATA gene, that was the reason I could make it work, but why did it turn off?"
Zelenka touches Rodney's shoulder. "We will find out. Do not worry."
Rodney sighs. "...it's not even Christmas," he says, glancing at a nearby chart. True enough, on Earth it's the middle of August, nowhere near December, and by the time the real date arrives, the device will have been put back into storage and forgotten.
"No matter. Only person who cares is you," replies Zelenka, meeting Rodney's stony look with one of determination. "Come, we will ask Dr. Weir."
Elizabeth gives them a week to work before ordering them to move on to more important projects; Rodney starts by hauling Carson to the lab despite threats of citrus injections and a shortage of epi-pens. They watch apprehensively as Carson puts his hands on the cords—to no avail. It's the same result as before, only more disappointing.
"We'll never get this to work," Rodney mutters three days later, face creased and shadowed. "I've had every idiot in this lab touch this thing, and the longest we've gotten it to work is 3.8 seconds!" He puts a hand over his eyes and heaves a theatrical sigh.
Zelenka, though frustrated as well, hasn't given up. "Everyone is already looking forward to the celebration. Without a tree, no Christmas."
This sobers Rodney, and they spend the next hour trying to connect the device to various power sources, all the while snacking on energy bars and trying not to shout at themselves and each other.
"The thing is," Rodney says plaintively, exhausted and sleep-deprived, "I miss Christmas. I didn't think I would, being shut up in Area 51 and Antarctica for the past five years, but I miss it."
"Then this one will be special," Zelenka replies, and lets Rodney lean his head on his shoulder.
"Dr. Weir." Elizabeth starts at the sound of her name; it's Teyla, standing across the table with a food tray. "May I sit?"
"Of course!" Elizabeth replies, smiling warmly. "How are you?"
Teyla sits and takes a forkful of her lunch. "I am well, though I admit I am somewhat confused. What is the significance of these decorations?" She tilts her chin at a gaudy banner for emphasis.
"It's an Earth holiday to celebrate the birth of Christ," Elizabeth says, wishing Sheppard was here to explain this craziness the same way he explained football. Indeed, it must be unnerving to see even the most serious of Atlanteans loosening up and partaking in carols and mistletoe. "Basically, it's a time to make merry and be joyful."
"You do not give joy all year?" Teyla frowns. "On Athos, we consider every day a celebration of life. Every day that we are not taken by the Wraith is another day we are able to spend with those we love."
Elizabeth thinks of her parents and of how she and Simon would spend Christmas snuggled by the fire, and puts those thoughts out of her head. "You're right," she says, "we should." She reaches out and gives Teyla's hand a light squeeze. "We're all family here."
One of the botanists runs by, chased closely by an angry airman covered with tinsel; Teyla smiles at the sight. "I'm not letting Grodin make any more eggnog," says Elizabeth, and drops her head into her hands.
It's the middle of the night when John returns, Ford in tow, and makes his way to the lab where everyone is gathered. Nearly half of Atlantis is there: his team, the scientists, even Bates and Lorne. The only light is coming from a lonely menorah in the corner, flickering brighter than it normally should.
"Started the party without me?" John quips; everyone looks his direction, and John can see a dark mass in the middle of the table. It looks Ancient, so he wades through the crowd toward the center.
"It doesn't work," Rodney informs him. "It should, but it doesn't. It must require a giant power source of some kind, something that—" John touches it, and it flares briefly before turning off. The crowd murmurs with disappointment. "I told you so. You didn't listen to me, did you?"
"Hold on a minute," John says. He reaches for Rodney's hand with his left and Elizabeth's with his right, and all around him, scientists and airmen alike join in a last attempt to make this work.
"It won't work," Rodney says, even as John's hands move to the device, but there's hope in his voice. John can feel an energy, all the anticipation in the air, and tries to channel it: Elizabeth's memory of Christmas dinner, Zelenka's love for his family, Ford's dreams of home. And it works.
It's like the biggest fireworks display he's ever seen, and the looks on his friends' faces as the lights dance above their heads makes his heart stir. John pulls Teyla into a hug, then Carson, then Rodney, then anyone else he can reach.
Someone has started to sing, and to John it feels just like home.