Perspectives
1-3:August 2005
I really don’t like children. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no misanthrope, no matter what people might say of me; children are fine - just so long as they’re far away from me and far away from containers that release energy-devouring clouds when they’re tampered with.
I thought walking through a stargate to a galaxy and an unknown fate took a lot out of me, but that was nothing compared to what it took to put on the shield and walk down into that sea of blackness that covered the gateroom floor. I’m a scientist, damn it. I come up with ways to save the day; I’m not the one actually suicidal enough to carry them out!
But if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here, not me, not Elizabeth, not the Athosians, and not Major Sheppard.
John. I figure when someone’s shot you, it gives you the right to call them by their first name, even if only in your thoughts. He trusted me, believed in me enough to do that when I explained and asked him to, and then he shoved me off the balcony, grinning like a loon the whole time.
Okay, the whole not being able to eat and drink situation was horrible, and I won’t mention the embarrassment of passing out in front of the senior staff, and the almost dying was really something I could have lived without, but that grin?
I’d do it all again for a chance to see it and know it was just for me.
END
since 02-04-07
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