Title: Atlanticus masculinus
By: qwirky
Rating: PG
Pairings: John/Elizabeth, Rodney/Radek, Other
Category: Humor, General, Crack!fic
Spoilers: None
Disclaimers: Neither Stargate Atlantis nor any of its characters belongs to me.
Notes: After I said that I'd like to see a fanfic where Atlantis is not female, Pooh and Rose Wilde Irish prodded me to write this. Title by Kyrdwyn.


Atlantis yawned and scratched himself. 'Not again,' he thought as cries of passion from his residents woke him from his alcohol-induced slumber (Lantean secret recipe-brewed alcohol was the little-known source of ZPM power - that "naquadah" stuff was a poor substitute, much like watery beer).

Stupid Earthlings, Atlantis thought. The Lanteans had been a celibate bunch. It meant they had been less interesting, but they had at least let him sleep at night. Before the Lanteans had fled to Earth, there had been no children for a good decade and a half.

On the other hand, the Lanteans had always been bugging him about something. The Earthlings generally only annoyed him with routine stuff he could do on auto-pilot. 'Turn on the lights,' 'monitor space,' 'open doors.' It was almost an insult the way they treated him like a non-sentient city without any self-worth. How he missed the days of being underwater! He'd had time to himself then to contemplate his existence, along with all the alcohol he could drink.

At least the Earthling leader was hot.

Too bad she was shackled up with that human - the one who reminded him of the Lanteans, but who wasn't quite as annoying. That human man and the hottie were the ones who tended to keep him up at night - sometimes for days on end. And while he occasionally found their activities fascinating (humans had definitely evolved past the Lanteans in that department), he was still pretty sure he could do better than the male - who was, after all, only human, and who had bad hair to boot.

'Oh, Elizabeth,' Atlantis thought, pining. He burped and scratched himself again. But as long as the bad-haired man kept Elizabeth happy, Atlantis would let him live. Until then, he yearned for the day when he could off Lieutenant Colonel, formerly Major, John Sheppard. He'd make it look like an accident, of course. Then he would take his rightful place next to Elizabeth and crown her as his queen. She would be happy - once she learned that he was male, anyway.

For some reason, all the Earthlings thought he was a she. It was kind of annoying. All those lovely caresses Elizabeth gave his balcony were, sadly, platonic, given his observations of her romantic leanings. He'd assumed that the white, octopus-like missiles he released on occasion would be a clear-cut indication of his masculinity, but the Earthlings were obviously not that into subtextual phallic imagery.

Right now, Sheppard and Lizzie (as Atlantis liked to affectionately call her) were finally done with their human mating ritual. 'About time,' Atlantis thought. Sheppard was so proud of his performance - too proud, if you asked Atlantis. That man had absolutely no regard for the sanctity of Lizzie's office, or the conference room where famous diplomats had once sat, or the labs where countless scientific breakthroughs had been discovered, or even the storage closets! Atlantis always made sure to subtly sterilize the rooms when they left.

In any case, now he could get some sleep. He made sure that Lizzie was comfortable - he could care less about Sheppard and his stupid temperature-resistant hair, but he was always amenable to Elizabeth's sensitivities - and closed his eyes for the remainder of the evening...

Only to be awoken by unbearable sounds from McKay and Zelenka's room.

Cursing, Atlantis resigned himself to yet another sleepless night, getting roaring drunk on ZPMcol and wishing fondly for the day of John Sheppard's death.