A Time For Family (Stargate Atlantis)

Originally Posted: Oct. 31st, 2006
Length/Rating: 100 words, PG, Gen
Pairing/Warnings: none
Summary: Written for sga_flashfic‘s Halloween Challenge. I blame the Discovery Channel, for lo, variations on All Souls’ Day are pretty darned creepy in some places.

“STARGATE ATLANTIS”, “STARGATE SG-1” and other related entities are owned, (TM) and © by MGM TELEVISION and DOUBLE SECRET PRODUCTION in association with GEKKO FILMS and THE SCIFI CHANNEL. All rights reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.

John was willing to accept a certain amount of weirdness from the cultures they encountered through the gates. After all, he’d been through the classes taught by the anthropologists and sociologists. He’d learned how to maintain polite smiles when faced with customs just this side of freaky. But this–“So, uh, how long has he been dead?” He grinned frantically across the table at one of the living hosts.

“Six hands of years,” the woman patted the shoulder of the mummified corpse beside her lovingly. “He looks so young, I know. Time was always kind to Yalhn. Now Pesva,” she nodded towards the mummy on John’s right, “You’d think he’d been gone at least four hands, but it’s only been two. He drank too much, I think.”

“Would have thought that would help not hurt.” Rodney was peering at the corpse, still eating, absently. “Do you always eat with dead people? I mean,” the scientist backpedaled as Teyla glared at him, “with family?”

“Every Souls Day, of course.” Ulsa gave McKay a pitying look, “You have no family of your own?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t go hauling them around with–”

At which point Teyla took control of the situation, saving them from having to explain to Elizabeth why they were persona non grata on planet number 57. Or 58 if you counted the time Rodney had tricked him into insulting the sacred gerbils of M3Z, but technically only John wasn’t allowed back, so he never counted that one.

But this settled it. The next time they were invited to anything with death, soul, remembrance or ancestor in the title… he was staying home.

Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!

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