[caption by hollywoodgrrl]
the one where the team are snails | G | 650 words
It wasn't so bad, being a snail. John missed things like opposable thumbs and the ability to put some of his crap down occasionally, but having a shell was pretty cool, especially after Teyla-snail had helped him decorate. The diet was pretty bland, but it wasn't much worse than living on MREs. Ronon-snail had found a secluded bit of Atlantean balcony where they were unlikely to be trampled on, and could practise their new skills. John slithered up the wall towards the ceiling, newly appreciative of the manifold wonders of mucus. He had half an idea to chase down some leaves and see if he couldn't get some kind of hoverboard competition going.
All in all, three days in, the molluscan life was proving interesting to say the least. Ronon was seriously pissed - at least, as far as John could tell, it was pretty tough using antennae to emote - and Teyla was looking twitchy, but John was kind of taken with this laid-back approach to living.
He was still going to kill McKay with his bare hands for getting them in this mess, though. Just as soon as Rodney had figured out whatever the hell had happened and had, you know, changed them back. John let out a small, snaily sigh, and trundled off to find some lettuce.
"Please, like I haven't got better things to do than lead us both on a wild goose chase? I'm telling you, I'm picking all three life signs from right here, look!"
"Yes, Rodney, but your equipment must be malfunctioning - there is nobody here."
As Rodney and Radek conferred, the three snails huddled a little closer to together. John felt reasonably confident that his two chief scientists would be more likely to examine the strange new life rather than pluck off the three of them and throw them into the ocean, but you couldn't be entirely sure. Even worse, it didn't look like they were even going to notice them.
Ronon's antennae twitched decisively, and then he peeled most of his body away from the wall before letting it fall back with a satisfying thunk, loud enough to be heard.
Rodney and Radek turned around.
"Since when do we have snails?" Radek asked.
"We don't..." Rodney said quietly, peering in at them. "Oh, no, surely not."
John nodded emphatically, though he wasn't sure how well that would translate. He wriggled to the side, showing off the pretty and informative shell that Teyla had painted.
"Sheppard? Sheppard, that's you? Oh god."
"Ronon, Teyla?" Radek asked.
All three snails bobbed their heads up and down as much as they could. Radek started to laugh. "I'm sorry, it's just -- Rodney, they're snails."
"Oh god," Rodney said again. "Listen, we've figured out a way to reverse the process, I just had to find you all first. Fucking Ancients, I swear, talk about a society with too much time on their hands and -- god, I thought I'd incinerated you, so really, I'm so glad you had a chance to pimp out your new ride, Sheppard, while I've been going out of my mind thinking you were all dead! "
John shuffled a little guiltily at that. They could have tried to send a message or something, maybe. Still, his shell was awesome.
Radek held out his tablet. "Here, please, all of you slide onto this, I can carry you back to the lab, we can fix you."
"You never know, they might skip straight past the firing me stage and just shoot me to end the humiliation," Rodney muttered as they headed back into the city.
Teyla twisted meaningfully at that, leaving a clear, shiny trail across the glass of Radek's computer. John's own murderous tendencies were fading, though. It looked like everything was going to be just fine. He'd have to make sure someone snapped a photo of him before they changed him back, though, this was a definitely a once in a lifetime look.