Scratching The Surface

by scifipony / pebble

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Evan Lorne, David Parrish, Coughlin, Reed, Walker, Stevens
Words: 1,917
Tags: Team Bonding, Friendship, Fluff
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Written for Flufftober2022 challenge. Takes place towards the beginning of season two. I noticed recently that Coughlin wears a German patch in at least a few episodes of SGA, so I've decided to roll with that and make him German. Other details about the characters are my own headcanons based on the very limited information I could gather from their appearances throughout the series.

A warm breeze drifted over the north pier, carrying with it that unique tang of saltwater and alien seaweed. Lorne breathed it in, still new enough on Atlantis to appreciate these subtler differences between it and Earth.

He sat down cross legged and flipped open a new page of his sketchbook. A quick glance around and he was setting his sights on a nearby residential building. This one was smaller than most of the towers in the city, but it had some stained glass windows in it that seemed to catch the late morning light in a stunning array of colors. It made him wish he’d brought his painting supplies with him when leaving Earth. There was simply no way to properly capture the beauty of Atlantis in a pencil sketch alone.

“You never said you were an artist, Major,” Walker commented, lounging in a canvas chair nearby. Most of the team was sprawled out on the deck of the pier, but Walker’s dislocated ankle had earned him an actual chair.

Lorne shrugged. “My mom taught me when I was growing up in San Francisco. She used to take me down to the waterfront and let me sketch the seagulls and boats.”

“Man, that sounds cool,” Walker sighed. “My parents were more of the ‘sit on the porch and read the paper’ variety.”

Reed, who’d just finished getting Walker situated in his chair, plopped down and unzipped the backpack he’d brought along. “My dad was the owner of a little pastry shop in my hometown,” he said. “Some mornings, he’d take me into work with him and let me help with getting the dough ready.”

“Don’t tell me you brought an easy bake oven out here?” Coughlin teased, settling down on the edge of the pier. Legs dangling off the side, he opened up a notebook of his own, filled with his easily recognizable scrawl.

Reed laughed. “What? You’re honestly saying you’d turn down fresh baked donuts right now?”

“I wouldn’t,” Lorne said. “They never warned me that the real danger in coming to Atlantis is having to eat the local cuisine.”

“Oh, this is nothing,” Reed informed them cheerfully. “You newbies are getting it easy, since the Daedalus brings in regular supplies now. When we were cut off from Earth, our own rations only lasted so long. The blue potatoes from P3X-331 were better than starving, but not by much.”

Coughlin laughed. “And here I thought we’d get through a whole day without Reed rubbing in the fact that he was part of the original expedition.”

“I was, too, you know,” Walker pointed out. “You don’t see me mentioning it with every breath.”

Ignoring the comment, Reed proceeded to empty his pack onto the pier. A surprising amount of little cardboard boxes and plastic containers were being unloaded from the small bag. It was like a parody of Mary Poppins unpacking her suitcase — in an alternate version where Poppins was a closet geek. The containers were filled with painted mini figures, maps, and colorful dice.

Reed paused as he became aware of his teammates curious stares. He shrugged unapologetically. “I like tabletop gaming. It’s a popular hobby.”

“Yeah, but the idea of using your one personal item for games…” Walker started.

Reed shook his head, pulling some more maps out of the bag. “Oh, I didn’t bring this stuff with me when we first left Earth. I had my brother ship it to me on the last Daedalus run. It’s been forever since I’ve played, so I’m taking full advantage of this down time.” He glanced up at Stevens, who had been awkwardly watching the conversation. “Especially since I managed to find a willing opponent.”

Everyone glanced at the other man in surprise. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy that sort of pastime.

“He offered to teach me,” Stevens defended weakly. “Besides, it’s not as if I could bring any of my own hobbies from Earth.”

As he settled onto the ground across from Reed, Lorne couldn’t help inserting a question of his own, curious to know more about the men who were now his teammates. “What hobbies would those be exactly?”

“Horseback riding, mostly. Hiking, rock climbing, running…”

Reed gave a low whistle of mock amazement. “Whoa. You’re really into those easy, quiet activities, huh?”

Stevens laughed, his posture finally relaxing. “I grew up on a ranch in Colorado,” he explained. “I guess being active is in my blood. That three week trip in the Daedalus just about killed me.”

Lorne felt secretly glad he and Stevens hadn’t been on the same trip. The long ride was bad enough without any of the crew experiencing cabin fever. Although, from what he’d heard, that second Daedalus run that had brought Stevens and Walker had also almost doomed their entire command staff — according to them, Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay almost died saving the rest of the crew. Maybe he was lucky to have come across on the first trip.

“What about you, Coughlin?” Reed asked. “Got any shocking interests to share with the group?”

“Yeah,” Walker jumped in, leaning forward in his chair. He winced as the movement jostled his ankle, but continued anyway, “What are you working on over there? Don’t tell me you’re an artist, too.”

“Not art, writing,” Coughlin said. “I like to write for fun. It’s relaxing.”

Lorne found he wasn’t actually surprised by that revelation. The captain was on the quiet side and very observant. He also fit the personality of several writers Lorne had been friends with in San Francisco. It warmed him slightly, knowing there was another artist on the team, even if it was of a different variety.

“Anything you’d be okay sharing with the class?” Walker asked jokingly.

Coughlin scoffed. “Do any of you read German?”

“Oh!” Dr. Parrish finally pulled himself away from applying ten layers of sunscreen to speak up. He went as far as to wave his hand over his head like a school child. “I do!”

At the mix of surprised and skeptical expressions pointed his way, Parrish crossed his arms over his chest in almost a pout. “Several members of the botany department are German,” he explained. “It saves time if we don’t have to translate each other’s notes every time we’re working a project, so most of us learned to read the language. I’m not great at speaking it, though.”

“Huh, I’m actually impressed, Doc,” Coughlin said appreciatively. “If only more of the new recruits could figure out this is a multi-national expedition.”

“Hey, I speak a little Spanish,” Reed defended himself. “And Yamato said he’d teach me Japanese.”

“You know I’m South African, right?” Walker said to Coughlin, rolling his eyes. “English is my second language, after Afrikaans.” He shot a curious glance in Lorne’s direction. “What about you, Major?”

“French,” Lorne admitted with a shrug. “Learned it in high school. Dr. Zelenka is attempting to teach me some Ancient, too, considering how often we need it in the field.”

It was something he began considering after their run in with a piece of dangerous Ancient tech on a recent mission. Having to wait for Stackhouse’s team to arrive so Dr. Corrigan could translate the instructions had almost cost them a few men’s lives. After that, Lorne decided he needed to gain at least a basic understanding of the language. He was going to suggest to Colonel Sheppard that they might want at least one person on each team to learn Ancient as well.

“Okay,” Reed said, clapping his hands together impatiently. “Enough talk. Stevens, you ready to get started?”

With a nod of agreement, the marine settled himself into a sitting position across from his teammate. “Don’t be surprised if I don’t figure this out very quickly,” he said. “It all looks… a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.”

“Don’t worry,” Reed assured him, sorting through a deck of cards. “It’s a lot easier than it looks. Plus, there’s a handy reference guide.” He passed over a book that looked as thick as a small encyclopedia.

“Oh, yes,” Stevens muttered sarcastically. “This is very reassuring.”

Parrish finally finished with his sunscreen and moved closer to the group, smelling like a vacation ad come to life. His eyes lit up as they landed on the cards Reed was sorting.

“Cordyline fruticosa,” he gasped.

“Say what?”

The botanist reached over and plucked one of the cards out of Reed’s hands, ignoring his yelped protest. “Cordyline fruticosa,” he repeated, holding up the card. “You might know it as the ti plant. It’s a beautiful palm plant with reddish purple flowers. Considered important in quite a few cultures and religions—”

“You know what, I’ll take your word for it,” Stevens interrupted, holding up a hand to stave off further explanation.

“And it’s not a ti plant, or whatever. In this game, that’s a healing plant,” Reed said, attempting and failing to snatch the card back. “You can use it to heal injuries.”

Parrish nodded. “Interesting. I mean, it has been used in medicines, but I feel like the game makers overestimated its health benefits.”

“Sure, Doc,” Reed rolled his eyes.

“The art is beautiful, though.” His gaze shifted to the other cards in Reed’s hands. “All these plants are painted in such intricate detail. Even the ones that are obviously made up are stunning to look at.”

Reed sighed and pulled out the cards with plants on them, passing them across to Parrish. Getting a sly look on his face, he said, “You know, there is an herbalist class of healer in the game, Parrish.”

Needing no further prompting, the scientist curled his legs under him, dropping to the deck beside Reed. He scooped up one of the many reference guides and began paging through while the other two continued setting up their pieces.

“One of these days, Doc,” Lorne commented in amusement, “we’ll find you a hobby that doesn’t need to be watered daily.”

“Anyone else feel like jumping in?” Reed asked, glancing around hopefully. “Plenty of spots left.” He narrowed his sights onto Coughlin. “You might enjoy the lore and world building in this game. It won awards for its story.”

Coughlin laughed. “Despite that incredibly transparent attempt, I actually wouldn’t mind learning. Might help use up some of this annoying down time.”

“Well, sorry for risking my leg to save your asses,” Walker pouted, looking pointedly at his ankle.

“It’s dislocated, not broken,” Lorne said. “I think you’ll survive.” Cutting off Reed before he had a chance to open his mouth, he added, “And, yes, I’ll join in.”

Content that he’d managed to rope in all of his teammates, Reed spread out one of the maps and launched into his explanation of the rules. The others took up seated positions in a circle, making sure to leave space for Walker to see the game board.

The sun moved higher overhead, melting the morning frost off the pier and warming the little team gathered below. The men hardly even noticed the hours tick by as they became caught up in sharing the game.

Lorne smiled to himself as the evening set in and they began packing up again. He’d been hoping that spending this downtime together would encourage his new teammates to open up to each other more. He hadn’t anticipated it going quite as well as it had, though. Maybe there was something to be said for Heightmeyer’s advice on team building exercises after all.

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