NOT SUCH A DISASTER

By Enola Jones



As usual, the first thing that went through John's mind was 'Please don't let today be a disaster'.

As he rolled out of bed, he was startled to find Rodney's trundle bed empty. Rumpled, like he'd gotten up in the middle of the night, but empty.

Dashing through his bathroom necessaries, John's brain was going a mile a minute! Where is he is he hurt what am I doing trying to raise a little genius please let him be okay please please let me find him...

He glanced into Teyla's bedroom, drawn by the scent of the candle she used for morning meditations. Today, in honour of the Christmas season, it was an evergreen one from Earth. "Uhm, Teyla?"

She did not open her eyes, but she smiled. "Yes, I have seen him. He is well."

"Is he--"

"In these quarters? Yes." Her smile grew.

Very relieved, he tapped on her doorway and retreated.

He didn't bother entering Ronon's room. He could hear the big man doing his morning exercises – something he never did if Rodney was in the small room with him. There was too great of a chance he'd hit the boy by accident, so Rodney had been barred from the room while Ronon exercised.

That had been Ronon's idea, not John's or Teyla's.

John wandered out into the main room – and there he was.

The four-year-old boy was sprawled bonelessly in the chair at John's desk. One small hand dangled off the side of the chair, while the other held fast to the stuffed Athosian prteg he'd named "Puppy".

John lifted Rodney and Puppy together and carried them into the bedroom. He tucked them into the trundle bed and brushed a light kiss over the boy's forehead, running a hand over golden curls and grinning as the free thumb migrated to the child's mouth as he curled comfortably into a warm ball.

Returning to the main room, John hit the Enter key and watched the laptop power up, revealing what Rodney had fallen asleep reading.

A National Geographic webpage somebody had put on the servers about the ... emu?

Puzzled as to why Rodney was looking up information on emus, John hit the back button.

And broke into a fond, amused grin as everything suddenly became clear.

Since Rodney's "downsizing", several age-appropriate children's programmes had mysteriously appeared on the servers. What John saw appear was the Wiggles, dancing across the screen and exhorting their young listeners to "Move Like An Emu Moves".

John chuckled and shut it off. Rodney'd clearly gone searching for more information about the unfamiliar bird. "You can downsize a genius," John breathed, shaking his head, "but you can't quiet that thirst for knowledge!"

THE END




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