contact
photos
links
writing
prev
next

 

The end of the world as we know it

Feedback: Please.

Acknowledgements: Loads of thanks to elishavah for being ever-wonderful and loveable and supportive.

 


„This is it, then.“ Carson Beckett looked gloomily into the fading sunlight reflecting off the water below in a brilliant shade of crimson.

Sheppard’s fork stopped a few inches before his mouth. “This is what?”

Beckett took a long swig from the mug he cradled in his hands and closed his eyes, sighing. “The end of the civilized world as we know it.” His voice was cheerless.

The major finished his last bite and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit melodramatic?”

“Not in the least.” Beckett’s mood seemed to be decreasing along with the sunlight. Sheppard had never seen the doctor so uncharacteristically gloomy before. It unsettled him more than he could say. If even this man lost hope - where would the rest of them find theirs?

“Look, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bury us before we’re dead.”

Beckett laced his fingers tighter around the mug in an almost protective manner. His eyes stayed closed. “I’m not. But the civilized world ends today.”

What?”

At the outburst, the doctor opened his eyes again and peeked at Sheppard before his glance went back to his mug. “In pretty much two or three minutes.”

“Beckett, I get a very unsettling Arthur Dent feeling here. What the hell did they put in your dinner?”

“Tatties, mostly.”

Sheppard was torn between the wishes to strangle the doctor or to start laughing. And damn that Scottish accent for making even insolence sound oddly huggable. “Beckett …” He decided to channel the anger.

“Well, you did ask …”

Sheppard sometime wondered who of them was worse - McKay or Beckett. Or maybe they had a competition going who of them could drive him insane quicker.

“Okay.” He pushed his plate away, splaying both hands on the table. “I get the feeling that I don’t really want to know this, but why are we facing doomsday?”

“Because …” Beckett lifted the mug to his lips, draining the remaining liquid, taking his time.

Maybe strangling the doctor was a good idea after all, Sheppard mused. Save the Wraith the trouble.

“Yes, Beckett?”

“Because this, major,” Beckett raised the mug in a sad salute, “was the very last cup of tea on Atlantis. As I said. The civilized world has just ended.”

 

Fin

 



 
top of page  
prev
next