MYSTERIOUS LEMONS

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Stargate Atlantis, or the characters, or the Puddle Jumpers, nor Atlantis itself…. But I really enjoy taking all the ideas and writing about all the characters. (only on this site, don't sue, re-read the disclaimer)

Description: One lemon, two lemons, three lemons, four. Five lemons, six lemons, seven lemons, MORE! Where are all these lemons coming from?!

WARNING: This is about allergies. It is not written to be offensive in any way and I assure you that i do not find allergies funny. But this is a humor fic and as it has been writen working from things said only on the show and so in this story McKay's citrus allergy will be considered to be very mild and mainly a product of his hypercondria.

This is inspired by the many comments of McKay's allergy on the show, notably from 'The Game' and SG-1's 'The Pegasus Project'.

CHAPTER ONE

"AAAHHHGGGHH!!!"

The scream echoed through the corridors of Atlantis and over the radios sending people running out of their quarters wondering what the hell was going on. Was it the wraith? The Genii? The replicators? Or something else?

"AAHHGGH!! HELP!"

The peace was all too often disturbed at some ungodly hour, but that didn't mean anyone was prepared to be woken suddenly by one o'clock in the morning wake up screams, particularly when there had been no apparent threat the previous day.

Lt. Col. John Sheppard ran in the general direction of the screams (his hair sticking up more then usual as a result of getting up and dressed very quickly) and skidded to a halt as he saw Dr Rodney McKay staring in complete horror at something inside his lab.

"What?!" asked Sheppard sharply, his P90 raised, as he realised that the scientist had been the source of the screams.

"A LEMON!" shrieked McKay hysterically.

Sheppard stared at him for a moment then, lowering his P90, he stepped forward and looked into McKay's lab. Sure enough, suspended from the ceiling by a string and swinging gently from side to side was a lemon.

Judging from the swinging, McKay had walked right into it, but although McKay thought that was a good cause to scream at the top of his lungs through his turned on radio, Sheppard was less then impressed.

"McKay," he started, his voice had a dangerous edge to it. "Were you screaming because of this?"

His eyes as round as saucers, McKay nodded.

"I see," said Sheppard, wondering if he should cut down the lemon and throw it at McKay or simply shoot his teammate.

Luckily, McKay was saved from either of these options by Dr Elizabeth Weir's panicked voice over the radio.

"John? Who screamed? What's going on?"

Turning his back on McKay, who was only just recovering from his nasty shock, Sheppard answered, keeping his tone as even as possible.

"It's okay, nothing serious. Someone suspended a lemon from the ceiling in McKay's lab."

There was a short silence then: "Someone suspended a lemon?"

"Yes," replied Sheppard.

"From the ceiling of McKay's lab?" asked Weir, her voice taking on the same dangerous edge that Sheppard's had had only moments before.

"Yes."

"At one o'clock in the morning?" finished Weir.

"Apparently," Sheppard confirmed. Then he sighed. "Wish they'd done it early. Then we would have still been up."

"Excuse me?" spluttered McKay indignantly, feeling it was time to join in the conversation. "What do you mean you wish they'd done it earlier? I wish they hadn't done it at all!"

Sheppard glared at him. "Maybe I'd be more sympathetic if you hadn't just woken me up at one in the morning!"

Somehow Weir doubted he'd ever be sympathetic about McKay's citrus allergy, after all she found it hilarious that someone had planted a lemon in McKay's she just was sure that if she burst out laughing at him she'd get cold showers, which was not acceptable.

"Oh, I'm sorry," snapped McKay sarcastically. "Maybe I won't care when someone has an attempt on your life!"

"An attempt on your life? Can just walking into a citrus fruit kill you now? Wow, this allergy of yours gets worse every day!"

"Okay, that's enough." Weir stopped the argument before it could get any further out of control. "Do you have any idea who 'they' are yet?"

"No, of course not. No-one who works in my lab with me would be brave enough to do this," replied McKay, refusing to look into his lab at the offending lemon.

"Then we'll worry about that in the morning. John, I'm going to assure all the panicked people in the control room who heard Rodney over their radios that the city is not under attack. I suggest you do the same for the people running around the corridors, particularly the military ones, we don't want them unnecessarily pointing their guns at everyone they see. McKay, go to bed, we'll have a meeting at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

McKay scowled. "I still have work to do – but I currently can't go in my lab."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "I'll get rid of the lemon."

"Good," said Weir. "But Rodney?"

"Yes?" asked McKay.

"Don't scream hysterically next time."

McKay gathered as much dignity as possible. "I'm going to the infirmary."

He stalked off.


A/N: Heh, one of my humor stories again. Please enjoy, plenty more lemons to come. Feel free to guess who's leaving the lemons at any time during the story. Oh, and I update much quicker when I'm getting reviews, so…. Please review! (constructive criticism is welcome).