Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Category/Rated: Slash, PG
Year/Length: 2008/ ~290 words
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.
"What is—no, you know, I don't want to know."
John nods mutely along with Rodney's words. There really aren't any words to properly describe the scene that they're looking upon. The smell alone is nearly overwhelming. And yet John can't look away. He can't even scramble desperately back through the door at his back. He can only stand, feeling Rodney at his shoulder, speechless.
Luckily, Rodney is never speechless for long, continuing, "I mean, really, that's just a gross waste of squash."
John nods again, clearing his throat and gesturing at the carnage set around the room, "Kind of cool, though," he wonders which of their teammates is responsible. Teyla is actually better with a knife than Ronon, but he's not sure that this is really her kind of thing. Then again, John's having a hard time imagining Ronon sitting around expending the time and effort to carve out such...intricate...designs.
Rodney snorts, stepping into the room and kneeling in front of one of the pumpkins, picking it up and looking it right in the screaming face. Rodney pokes his finger into one of the eyes and John rolls his eyes, picking up a pumpkin of his own. He thinks it might look a little bit like Zelenka.
Rodney shakes himself and sets the pumpkin down, and then freezes, whispering all of a sudden, "Oh my god, do you think they made pie?" They turn slowly to look at each other, and then John is springing to his feet, shoving down on Rodney's shoulder and ignoring Rodney's curses as he shouts for Teyla and Ronon.
He makes it almost through the door before Rodney nails him in the back of the head with a small pumpkin. John laughs, and keeps going.
::back to index::