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mini!Farscape.... damn you, Liz
SCAM: Farscape/SG-1
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Set: for Farscape, it's season 3, pre-Self-Inflicted Wounds (but I didn't have the energy for mini!Stark and mini!Jool, although Thor could still find them...). SG-1: season 8.
Notes: erm. Liz is a bad influence. Also, is intensely shippy, Sam/Jackwise. Sorry. I guess.
Rating: PG13. some swear words.
Shrunken Menagerie
by ALC Punk!
"What the --" His voice was wrong, all wrong. It was, for instance, high. Not his normal, deep self. And there was something wrong with his height. This was familiar, but in a bad way. "Damn."
"Crichton, what the hell have you done?" She was about 16, dark hair, snapping blue eyes, starkly cut features.
"Aeryn?"
"Of course it's me, you frellnik. Now what the hell have you done?"
"Done?" John knew there was outrage in his voice. Good. "I haven't done a damn thing!" Sensing her disbelief, he snorted, "Aeryn, do I LOOK like I wanted to be a teenager again?"
"That doesn't matter." She pointed a finger at him. "All I know is that my life has been FRELLED since I met you."
"Aeryn," this voice was different, husky, yet young. "I don't think Crichton did this."
The two of them turned and stared. It was like seeing Jothee all over again, except it wasn't Jothee. And John felt a sick feeling in his gut. "D?"
"John." The luxian confirmed.
"Oh, frell."
"Hey!" A grey blur bounced into their midst. Chiana hadn't really changed much. She let out an infectious giggle. "Whatcha think, huh?"
"Don't know, Pip. I wasn't too fond of this the first time around."
"Chiana, calm your exuberance." This from a slim-statured blue girl. She was smiling serenely. "I believe it has been too long since I felt so young."
"Aw, c'mon, Zhaany, you always feel young t'me," John joked, then made a face. "Anyone got ideas?"
"I am a Hynerian royal!" The voice suddenly roared into existence, a hover chair careening the occupant around. "I demand to know who has enacted this atrocity upon me!"
"Whoa! Mini-Sparky!"
"Crichton!" The small green slug-like creature glared at him. "This is your doing."
"Yeah, Aeryn thinks so to. What is *with* you guys? This is not *my* fault!" He threw up his hands, gesturing, then made another face. Damn, he'd liked being old.
"I'll believe that when I'm returned to my normal size."
"Rygel," Zhaan was almost laughing, "leave Crichton alone."
"I apologize." This was a new voice, calm and collected. A Roswell-lookalike alien stepped into the grey room. The color matched its dignity.
"Whoa! E.T.!" Crichton found himself skidding to a halt in front of it, "So. Tell me. Why'd you have to abduct us, man?"
The alien blinked. "I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. You, are human, the others, I am not sure of. Your collected species are diverse and not in our databanks. This is probably the reason you were collected by Loki, and cloned."
"Cloned? Whoa." John reached out a hand and poked the shoulder of Thor. "How can we be cloned?"
"Very simply."
"And the being a teenager again thing?"
"It appears that Loki was studying the growth rates of your species."
"Ok." John tilted his head to one side. "So, how do you make us big again?"
"I do not. I am afraid you shall simply mature naturally."
"Like frell, I will!" Rygel growling was a strange thing when he was adult-size. When he was a tiny little slug? It was almost cute.
"Buckwheat's right. You can't leave us like this."
"I am sorry, but unlike Loki, the Asgard do not meddle in the genetics and growth-rates of other races."
"Ok. Fine. You said I was human, but you didn't know the others. Where are we?" Curiosity was beginning to eat John alive.
"You are currently orbiting the planet Earth aboard the Samantha Carter." Thor blinked again, "I have been discussing this unique situation with General O'Neill. It is his belief that you would be better off living on Earth, although I do not know how the alien races will fit in."
"Aeryn might, but the others? No way."
"Nevertheless, the Asgard are not caregivers, as we have lost the ability to reproduce long ago. Therefore, I shall be allowing you to return to your planet where General O'Neill may be able to assist you in returning home."
"Great. A planet full of Crichtons, and I look like this," Aeryn muttered.
-=-
General O'Neill, John decided, was one of those hard-line establishment types. At least, that's what he was assuming, before he actually met the man. Thor beamed them down into a large conference room, where a tall, grey-haired man was playing with a yo-yo and watching out through the large windows as a group of people stepped through a shimmering ring-like contraption.
"Can I help you folks?"
"We're looking for General O'Neill."
Without looking at them, the man shrugged. "Ya found him."
John blinked. "You're General O'Neill?"
"So they tell me," his head turned and brown eyes studied John and the rest. Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Thor, buddy, for this, you SO owe me."
John was rapidly changing his opinion of this General, "So, what's the plan?"
"I figure, since some of you aren't human, you stay here. For now." The man shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered in the general direction of the office on one side of the room.
"Look, you can't keep us here!"
"I can't?"
"No! It's inhumane, it's --"
"Sir!" A voice interrupted, and a tall, blonde woman strode into the room. "I think I may have a solution to the problem."
"I'm all ears, Carter."
"Carter?" John peered closer, and then snickered, "Oh my fuckin' God! It's Samantha frelling Carter!"
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"Know me? Hah. Well, not anymore. Although, there was this one time we went skinny dipping."
"Skinny dipping? Carter, there some part of your past you've never told me?" The General was eyeing her with interest.
"No, sir." She glared at John. "And where you got that idea, I --"
"There was a full moon, Sam. Salt water. Dad caught us, and Mom giggled about it because she and Dad did the same thing ten years ago."
She was gaping at him. For a moment, she seemed to flounder, and then she snorted, "John Crichton, you know perfectly well I had on my swimsuit that night."
"Not for long. It was a bikini," he informed the General.
"A little black one?" The man asked with a hopeful look.
The blush on Sam Carter's face deepened and she avoided looking at her commanding officer.
"Yup," John confirmed.
"Ah. So, Carter, I know this lake, where the fish grow to be this big," the General held his arms out, gesturing. "It's in the land --"
"Of sky blue waters? Mosquitos?" She sounded amused, suddenly.
"Hey!" John waved his hands, "Not that this isn't vaguely amusing, but you said you had a solution to the problem. Which problem."
Colonel Carter shifted, suddenly all business. "We've got a series of holographic imagers. With Thor's help, we've made them changeable. Each of the non-humans wears one, and you're all set."
"And where are we gonna go?"
"Well," she shrugged, "There's a large community, at this point, of mini clones. Right at the moment, the command staff of the Atlantis expedition is being integrated. Something tells me you'll fit in *just* fine."
"Atlantis? And, hey, what IS all this?"
"Classified," the Air Force officers chorused in unison.
"Fine, fine. Give us the doohickeys."
As they were being led off to get equipment and clothing from the base stores, John heard the Colonel and General exchange a few last words.
"So. Wanna go fishing, Carter?"
"Depends, sir."
"On?"
"On whether it's warm enough for bikinis."
The loud whoop that echoed in the hallways made John wince. And then he had other things to worry about. Like Aeryn about to punch out the lights of one of the SFs, Zhaan mumbling about delvian priestesses, and Rygel muttering to himself.
It was going to be a long, LONG lifetime.
-f-
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Set: for Farscape, it's season 3, pre-Self-Inflicted Wounds (but I didn't have the energy for mini!Stark and mini!Jool, although Thor could still find them...). SG-1: season 8.
Notes: erm. Liz is a bad influence. Also, is intensely shippy, Sam/Jackwise. Sorry. I guess.
Rating: PG13. some swear words.
Shrunken Menagerie
by ALC Punk!
"What the --" His voice was wrong, all wrong. It was, for instance, high. Not his normal, deep self. And there was something wrong with his height. This was familiar, but in a bad way. "Damn."
"Crichton, what the hell have you done?" She was about 16, dark hair, snapping blue eyes, starkly cut features.
"Aeryn?"
"Of course it's me, you frellnik. Now what the hell have you done?"
"Done?" John knew there was outrage in his voice. Good. "I haven't done a damn thing!" Sensing her disbelief, he snorted, "Aeryn, do I LOOK like I wanted to be a teenager again?"
"That doesn't matter." She pointed a finger at him. "All I know is that my life has been FRELLED since I met you."
"Aeryn," this voice was different, husky, yet young. "I don't think Crichton did this."
The two of them turned and stared. It was like seeing Jothee all over again, except it wasn't Jothee. And John felt a sick feeling in his gut. "D?"
"John." The luxian confirmed.
"Oh, frell."
"Hey!" A grey blur bounced into their midst. Chiana hadn't really changed much. She let out an infectious giggle. "Whatcha think, huh?"
"Don't know, Pip. I wasn't too fond of this the first time around."
"Chiana, calm your exuberance." This from a slim-statured blue girl. She was smiling serenely. "I believe it has been too long since I felt so young."
"Aw, c'mon, Zhaany, you always feel young t'me," John joked, then made a face. "Anyone got ideas?"
"I am a Hynerian royal!" The voice suddenly roared into existence, a hover chair careening the occupant around. "I demand to know who has enacted this atrocity upon me!"
"Whoa! Mini-Sparky!"
"Crichton!" The small green slug-like creature glared at him. "This is your doing."
"Yeah, Aeryn thinks so to. What is *with* you guys? This is not *my* fault!" He threw up his hands, gesturing, then made another face. Damn, he'd liked being old.
"I'll believe that when I'm returned to my normal size."
"Rygel," Zhaan was almost laughing, "leave Crichton alone."
"I apologize." This was a new voice, calm and collected. A Roswell-lookalike alien stepped into the grey room. The color matched its dignity.
"Whoa! E.T.!" Crichton found himself skidding to a halt in front of it, "So. Tell me. Why'd you have to abduct us, man?"
The alien blinked. "I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. You, are human, the others, I am not sure of. Your collected species are diverse and not in our databanks. This is probably the reason you were collected by Loki, and cloned."
"Cloned? Whoa." John reached out a hand and poked the shoulder of Thor. "How can we be cloned?"
"Very simply."
"And the being a teenager again thing?"
"It appears that Loki was studying the growth rates of your species."
"Ok." John tilted his head to one side. "So, how do you make us big again?"
"I do not. I am afraid you shall simply mature naturally."
"Like frell, I will!" Rygel growling was a strange thing when he was adult-size. When he was a tiny little slug? It was almost cute.
"Buckwheat's right. You can't leave us like this."
"I am sorry, but unlike Loki, the Asgard do not meddle in the genetics and growth-rates of other races."
"Ok. Fine. You said I was human, but you didn't know the others. Where are we?" Curiosity was beginning to eat John alive.
"You are currently orbiting the planet Earth aboard the Samantha Carter." Thor blinked again, "I have been discussing this unique situation with General O'Neill. It is his belief that you would be better off living on Earth, although I do not know how the alien races will fit in."
"Aeryn might, but the others? No way."
"Nevertheless, the Asgard are not caregivers, as we have lost the ability to reproduce long ago. Therefore, I shall be allowing you to return to your planet where General O'Neill may be able to assist you in returning home."
"Great. A planet full of Crichtons, and I look like this," Aeryn muttered.
-=-
General O'Neill, John decided, was one of those hard-line establishment types. At least, that's what he was assuming, before he actually met the man. Thor beamed them down into a large conference room, where a tall, grey-haired man was playing with a yo-yo and watching out through the large windows as a group of people stepped through a shimmering ring-like contraption.
"Can I help you folks?"
"We're looking for General O'Neill."
Without looking at them, the man shrugged. "Ya found him."
John blinked. "You're General O'Neill?"
"So they tell me," his head turned and brown eyes studied John and the rest. Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Thor, buddy, for this, you SO owe me."
John was rapidly changing his opinion of this General, "So, what's the plan?"
"I figure, since some of you aren't human, you stay here. For now." The man shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered in the general direction of the office on one side of the room.
"Look, you can't keep us here!"
"I can't?"
"No! It's inhumane, it's --"
"Sir!" A voice interrupted, and a tall, blonde woman strode into the room. "I think I may have a solution to the problem."
"I'm all ears, Carter."
"Carter?" John peered closer, and then snickered, "Oh my fuckin' God! It's Samantha frelling Carter!"
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"Know me? Hah. Well, not anymore. Although, there was this one time we went skinny dipping."
"Skinny dipping? Carter, there some part of your past you've never told me?" The General was eyeing her with interest.
"No, sir." She glared at John. "And where you got that idea, I --"
"There was a full moon, Sam. Salt water. Dad caught us, and Mom giggled about it because she and Dad did the same thing ten years ago."
She was gaping at him. For a moment, she seemed to flounder, and then she snorted, "John Crichton, you know perfectly well I had on my swimsuit that night."
"Not for long. It was a bikini," he informed the General.
"A little black one?" The man asked with a hopeful look.
The blush on Sam Carter's face deepened and she avoided looking at her commanding officer.
"Yup," John confirmed.
"Ah. So, Carter, I know this lake, where the fish grow to be this big," the General held his arms out, gesturing. "It's in the land --"
"Of sky blue waters? Mosquitos?" She sounded amused, suddenly.
"Hey!" John waved his hands, "Not that this isn't vaguely amusing, but you said you had a solution to the problem. Which problem."
Colonel Carter shifted, suddenly all business. "We've got a series of holographic imagers. With Thor's help, we've made them changeable. Each of the non-humans wears one, and you're all set."
"And where are we gonna go?"
"Well," she shrugged, "There's a large community, at this point, of mini clones. Right at the moment, the command staff of the Atlantis expedition is being integrated. Something tells me you'll fit in *just* fine."
"Atlantis? And, hey, what IS all this?"
"Classified," the Air Force officers chorused in unison.
"Fine, fine. Give us the doohickeys."
As they were being led off to get equipment and clothing from the base stores, John heard the Colonel and General exchange a few last words.
"So. Wanna go fishing, Carter?"
"Depends, sir."
"On?"
"On whether it's warm enough for bikinis."
The loud whoop that echoed in the hallways made John wince. And then he had other things to worry about. Like Aeryn about to punch out the lights of one of the SFs, Zhaan mumbling about delvian priestesses, and Rygel muttering to himself.
It was going to be a long, LONG lifetime.
-f-
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Challenges tomorrow! :psyched!:
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But! Yes! I am an evil influence! Hah...
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*verytired and considering bed*
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