(::giggles:: The size of Buicks! OMG, I loved that scene.)
----
"You have to dig a big hole," John said, "and line it with rocks. Then you build a wood fire over the rocks--oh, hey, Rodney."
Rodney put his tray on the table, took the chair next to Ronon and nodded a greeting to Teyla. "Building a fire? What are you talking about?"
"Something called a clambake," Ronon said.
Teyla leaned forward. "It sounds very intriguing."
Rodney glared, doing his best to spread the power of it evenly over all of them. "Don’t even think it."
Ronon frowned. "What?"
"Relax, Rodney, this isn't about Sam." And there it was again, that flicker of annoyance on John's face, as if maybe he would have liked it to be. "Didn't you hear? The marine biologists found descendants of your giant lobsters."
"And you want to eat them." Rodney sipped his coffee indignantly.
"Well, yeah. Sheppard says they're good eating." Ronon looked to John for confirmation.
John nodded vigorously. "Throw in a couple of those giant clams, a bunch of potatoes--come on Rodney, it will be fun."
"And just how big are these 'lobsters'?"
"About six feet long. With great big claws, too."
"Gonna need a really big hole," Ronon said.
"And lot of butter," John added.
"They seem as though they'd be difficult to eat--you must break them open first?" Teyla asked.
"Oh yeah. It's a real mess." John patted Ronon's arm. "And you're supposed to eat them with your fingers."
"Cool." Ronon sat back. "I'm in. When do we get started?"
Rodney blinked at them, struck by the image of John sitting on the beach, eating with his fingers, butter dripping down his chin. He would probably be barefoot. Maybe wearing shorts.
Hell, maybe even shirtless.
With butter. Lots of butter.
"Um--" Rodney held up a finger, halting their discussion of hole-digging techniques. "We use a jumper, the one with the winch. Fire one, maybe two drones, and we have a pit. We use the winch to grab rocks from the south side of the continent. Come on, come on," he said, snapping his fingers. "Let's get moving! We start right now, and it should be ready by dinner tonight."
They scrambled after him as he raced toward the jumper bay.
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2006-12-06 07:18 pm (UTC)----
"You have to dig a big hole," John said, "and line it with rocks. Then you build a wood fire over the rocks--oh, hey, Rodney."
Rodney put his tray on the table, took the chair next to Ronon and nodded a greeting to Teyla. "Building a fire? What are you talking about?"
"Something called a clambake," Ronon said.
Teyla leaned forward. "It sounds very intriguing."
Rodney glared, doing his best to spread the power of it evenly over all of them. "Don’t even think it."
Ronon frowned. "What?"
"Relax, Rodney, this isn't about Sam." And there it was again, that flicker of annoyance on John's face, as if maybe he would have liked it to be. "Didn't you hear? The marine biologists found descendants of your giant lobsters."
"And you want to eat them." Rodney sipped his coffee indignantly.
"Well, yeah. Sheppard says they're good eating." Ronon looked to John for confirmation.
John nodded vigorously. "Throw in a couple of those giant clams, a bunch of potatoes--come on Rodney, it will be fun."
"And just how big are these 'lobsters'?"
"About six feet long. With great big claws, too."
"Gonna need a really big hole," Ronon said.
"And lot of butter," John added.
"They seem as though they'd be difficult to eat--you must break them open first?" Teyla asked.
"Oh yeah. It's a real mess." John patted Ronon's arm. "And you're supposed to eat them with your fingers."
"Cool." Ronon sat back. "I'm in. When do we get started?"
Rodney blinked at them, struck by the image of John sitting on the beach, eating with his fingers, butter dripping down his chin. He would probably be barefoot. Maybe wearing shorts.
Hell, maybe even shirtless.
With butter. Lots of butter.
"Um--" Rodney held up a finger, halting their discussion of hole-digging techniques. "We use a jumper, the one with the winch. Fire one, maybe two drones, and we have a pit. We use the winch to grab rocks from the south side of the continent. Come on, come on," he said, snapping his fingers. "Let's get moving! We start right now, and it should be ready by dinner tonight."
They scrambled after him as he raced toward the jumper bay.