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HSP 2: The One With The Fuzzy Ronon... err... Rodent
The One With The Fuzzy Rodent
SGA. 385 words. Just don't call him cuddly
---
"You're kidding, right?"
The assembled group all stare at Carson and then at the small fuzzy thing at his feet industriously cleaning its face with its paws. It looks like a cross between a spider monkey and an otter.
"Wish that I were," Carson says with a small shrug as John flails out a hand to grip Rodney's shirt and Teyla claps both hands to her mouth. "I've been through a lot of Satedan medical journals and this happens with them all. It's called the change."
"Is he going to stay like this?" John demands, because it's really not funny if they've basically go something about the size of a furry soda can in place of the formidable Ronon.
"No, no," Carson hastens to assure them. "It's just a little like... well, their puberty."
"You cannot be serious," Rodney splutters. "Ronon was pre-pubescent when he got here?"
"Not exactly," Carson sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Their physiology is very different to ours and it's just... really different."
"He was married wasn't he?" John asks because with the prospect of Ronon turning back into himself at some stage, it's getting a little funny again, and also very disturbing.
"Oh aye, he's gone through all the necessary... hmm... changes required to procreate and well, be with a woman but this is the final stage. I think he married very young."
"Is it so different from your own experience?" Teyla asks and then tries to hide her smile when Rodney positively flails.
"Yes!" he squeaks. "I mean, when we go through puberty all that happens is that we grow hair in weird places, our voices get weird and..." Rodney loses his train of thought as Ronon lets out an indignant sounding chirrup. He flushes hotly and waves a dismissive hand. "Okay yes, it sounds similar but Ronon's version is a bit extreme."
"You think he's still pretty much Ronon in there?" John asks.
Right at that moment, one of the botanists, a nervous man named Figgins, enters the infirmary. He spots Ronon and leans over his knees, reaching out a hand. "Aww, what a cute lit-ohmygodgedditoffme!"
John sighs as he moves to liberate Figgins' face from the ball of furious chittering fur attached to it and Rodney pipes up from behind him, "I think so, yes."
SGA. 385 words. Just don't call him cuddly
---
"You're kidding, right?"
The assembled group all stare at Carson and then at the small fuzzy thing at his feet industriously cleaning its face with its paws. It looks like a cross between a spider monkey and an otter.
"Wish that I were," Carson says with a small shrug as John flails out a hand to grip Rodney's shirt and Teyla claps both hands to her mouth. "I've been through a lot of Satedan medical journals and this happens with them all. It's called the change."
"Is he going to stay like this?" John demands, because it's really not funny if they've basically go something about the size of a furry soda can in place of the formidable Ronon.
"No, no," Carson hastens to assure them. "It's just a little like... well, their puberty."
"You cannot be serious," Rodney splutters. "Ronon was pre-pubescent when he got here?"
"Not exactly," Carson sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Their physiology is very different to ours and it's just... really different."
"He was married wasn't he?" John asks because with the prospect of Ronon turning back into himself at some stage, it's getting a little funny again, and also very disturbing.
"Oh aye, he's gone through all the necessary... hmm... changes required to procreate and well, be with a woman but this is the final stage. I think he married very young."
"Is it so different from your own experience?" Teyla asks and then tries to hide her smile when Rodney positively flails.
"Yes!" he squeaks. "I mean, when we go through puberty all that happens is that we grow hair in weird places, our voices get weird and..." Rodney loses his train of thought as Ronon lets out an indignant sounding chirrup. He flushes hotly and waves a dismissive hand. "Okay yes, it sounds similar but Ronon's version is a bit extreme."
"You think he's still pretty much Ronon in there?" John asks.
Right at that moment, one of the botanists, a nervous man named Figgins, enters the infirmary. He spots Ronon and leans over his knees, reaching out a hand. "Aww, what a cute lit-ohmygodgedditoffme!"
John sighs as he moves to liberate Figgins' face from the ball of furious chittering fur attached to it and Rodney pipes up from behind him, "I think so, yes."