Chapter 4 - Jamawitt
Chuck the technician avoided parties for one good reason. It was the risk that someone would discover his true name, hence his true identity, that kept him away. So he was sitting in the control room all by himself and praying that something exciting would happen to the Stargate. Never mind that half the city seemed to be drunk. It would still be good fun if some Wraith showed up.
Katie Brown flounced into the control room, waving two very large tankards of what looked suspiciously like Zelenka’s infamous punch. She draped herself over Chuck’s laptop and grinned at him. She announced, “Chemishtry may not be my thing but I’m a botanisht and you’re growing on me.”
One strap of her golden ball gown slipped down her shoulder, revealing more cleavage than Chuck was prepared for. Wasn’t this the shy Katie Brown? And why had he grown on her?
“Help!” cried a voice from the wall.
Chuck turned his head towards the wall and muttered, “What the…”
“I’m stuck in the pipes!” the voice continued. “Darkwing Duck flushed me down the toilet!”
The technician, glad to have some distraction from his visitor, hurried over to where he thought the sound was coming from. He asked as professionally as one could when watching Katie’s second strap slide down, “Who is this?”
“Who?” Chuck demanded.
The disembodied Ancient heaved a sigh and thumped the pipe surrounding him until the echoing booms made Chuck’s eardrums throb. The aggrieved Janus said imperiously, “I am Janus the All Mighty Ancient Who Invited Time Travel!”
Chuck reached for a notepad and a pen, inquiring, “Can that be abbreviated to JAMAWITT?”
“HAHAHA Jama Witt!” Katie Brown giggled in the background.
Chuck stared at her. She implored, bending over so that she nearly popped out of the dress, “I’m sure you’d find it funny too if you had some of this spooky punch.”
Chuck looked at the wall. He looked at Katie. He did what any smart red blooded male would have done. He took one of the proffered tankards of punch and slung an arm around her shoulders.
A short interlude while we give my new pairing some privacy.
Ronon Dex sang lullabies to his new love as he stood on a romantic balcony. The pumpkin lapped up the attention and took on a very healthy sheen. The Satedan knew then that there would be no other in his life than his non-exploding pumpkin. The Spontaneous Combustion Curse had lifted from this fanfiction and therefore from his precioussss.
But his romantic bliss was to last no more.
“Aroooooooo!” howled Teyla as she bounded down the corridor, fully transformed into a she-wolf.
Ronon was used to hearing such weird sounds from Athosians so completely blocked out the sound as he continued crooning. A fatal mistake. Sniffing on the wind, Teyla discovered the tempting smell of – PUMPKIN!
She started running to the balcony, snout wriggling in delight. Upon discovering her team mate cradling the vegetable, she slowed. Teyla knew he would not give up the prize easily. Sauntering onto the balcony, she began innocently, “Are you not joining in the festivities, Ronon?”
“I believe I’ve had my share of this strange custom,” Dex declared, “and this is my share.”
Mmm. Pumpkin. Teyla could restrain herself no longer – the clouds had parted, revealing the full moon. She lunged for Ronon’s love. Unfortunately, the ensuing tussle knocked the non-exploding pumpkin off the balcony. Down, down, down it fell until it splattered on the balcony below.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Ronon cried.
He turned to glare at Teyla. No Wraith had ever inflicted such pain on him. The Athosian, sensing that he was about to explode into fury, turned and ran. Ronon cracked his knuckles.
Chuck couldn’t remember how he became shirtless. He knew he should have been doing something responsible, something that didn’t involve a good snogging session on top of the controls. A laptop or two clattered to the floor in their…erm…excitement. At that point, our favourite Canadian technician remembered one of his very vital jobs.
He tapped his headset and announced to Caldwell on the other end, “Jama Witt is stuck in the pipes.”
“Who?”dDemanded the Colonel who, in Chuck’s opinion, sounded like he hadn’t had enough punch or, alternatively, was being a bore in his Atlantis office and wearing his fluffy slippers.
“I don’t know. I think he said he was a time traveller.”
“Does he know what the time is?”
“No clue. Can I go back to snogging now?”
“As you were, technician.”
Chuck grinned at the botanist lying on top of him. But Katie was looking at the Stargate. She commented, “There’s an unscheduled offworld activation.”
They both watched the unshielded event horizon with interest. And then the visitor stepped through. Aiden Ford dusted off his black clothes and cleaned his lightsaber hilt on the Handkerchief of Doom. Chuck waved.
“What is wrong with everyone?” demanded John Sheppard as he burst into gate room, drawn by the unscheduled activation alarms.
He froze when he saw Ford. Ok. Someone wasn’t doing their job here and it was probably due to a snogging pair of idiots in the control room who accidentally disabled the shield. John frowned. “What are you doing here, Ford?”
Aiden stared at him. He replied as though it was obvious, “I didn’t get an invitation to the Halloween party so I thought I’d just turn up. I’m in costume. I’m Jedi Apprentice Anakin Skywalker.”
“We don’t invite junkies to Halloween parties!” John shot at his former team mate and almost kicked himself.
Had his attempts at sobering up failed? Was he going mad? He fumbled for his pistol, only to discover a carrot in his holster. Regardless, he held the innocent vegetable up and made loading noises with his mouth. Ford’s eyebrows shot up. Sheppard continued crossly, “And for your information, Ford, the black stuff is Luke Skywalker’s. If you wanted Anakin, you’d wear a dark brown Jedi tunic!”
“Geek!” laughed Katie and Chuck.
He was supposed to be taking this enzyme junkie into custody, not debating the finer points of the Star Wars universe. AHH! What was in that punch? Aiden glanced down at his costume and sniffed, “Fine. I’m Luke Skywalker. Happy now, Major?”
“Colonel!” John corrected, waving the carrot.
Ford shrugged. “Whatever. My lightsaber will tear through your carrot like tissue paper.”
Sheppard snorted. “Yeah and I finished War and Peace.”
Ford activated his lightsaber. Yes. It was real. And it was red.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” John muttered and bolted.
The Canadian technician suggested airily, “Lieutenant Ford, you should try the punch.”