Title: Five ways the Furlings were found by the crew onboard the Destiny
Author: Shenandoah Risu
Content Flags: mild swearing, and "Wormhole X-treme". Again.
Spoilers: none
Characters: The Destiny Crew and various Furlings.
Word Count: 705
Summary: "Yep. Looks like you found all the Furlings today!"
Author's Notes: Written for prompt set #148 at the LJ Comm sg1_five_things.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with. ;-)
Thanks for reading! Feedback = Love. ;-)


Five ways the Furlings were found by the crew onboard the Destiny

"Hey Ginn? Come take a look at this."

Ginn cranes her neck to see what Eli has dug up on his console.

"'Understand this: there was once an alliance of four great races in the galaxy; the Asgard, the Nox, the Furlings and the Ancients, the builders of the Stargates'," she reads aloud. "Yeah? So what about it?"

Eli gesticulates wildly. "We've met all of them, except the Furlings."


"The people at the SGC. Except for the Furlings."

"Not true," Ginn smiles and kisses him on the nose. "You just found them."

Eli's eyes bug out, and Ginn taps the screen of his console. "Right here."


"You found them in the database," Ginn mumbles, scoots into his lap, and as she slips her tongue between his lips it suddenly all makes perfect sense to Eli.


"So, this is how the SGC really operates?" Varro shakes his head.

"Well, not really," Volker pipes up, twirling his finger at the view screen. "This is a TV show that some alien came up with."

"And those are -?"

"The Furlings."

"THIS is what they look like?"

Volker is about to explain it to Varro, then an evil grin flits across his face. "Yep, this is what they really look like."

"Damn," Varro mutters. "I found the friggin' Furlings on a stupid TV show from Earth!"


"My fingers will be purple for days," Chloe whines.

Camile chuckles.

"Yeah, you can always tell who's been on KP duty on this ship."

"I hate peeling those things. I wish Brody would invent an automated peeler."

"Why don't you invent it yourself?"

Chloe stares at her. "I never thought about it. Hmmm…"

She holds up a tuber with a quizzical expression. "What are those fuzzy things?"

Camile peers at the potato. "Some kind of root system, I suppose. I call it a Furling."

Chloe laughs. "Oh, that's good! Little purple fuzzy balls growing out of a purple sweet potato. Oh, look, here's two more!"

"Yep. Looks like you found all the Furlings today!"


"What is that? A bat?"

"Something like that."

Ronald gently pokes the tiny fuzzy creature with his pinky. It flutters away and flits about and finally settles on another purple sweet potato blossom.

"Cool," he says. "Shouldn't we, like, catch it?"

"No," Lisa says with a smile. "Dr. Fisher says they pollinate the plants here, and they do no harm, and their small number is held in check by the limited food source of the pollen."

"What are they, anyway?"

"Dale says they're the descendents of the Furlings. They got so advanced as a civilization that they got majorly bored and subsequently devolved into pollinators."

Ronald gapes at her.

"Yeah, I don't quite buy it either, but what the heck, it might be true for all we know."

"They don't talk."


Ronald pokes another one and it flies up and lands on his nose. He crosses his eyes to look at it.

"Well, hello there, little Furling," he says.


"You can put your shirt back on," TJ says to Young, after she's spent an extended amount of time listening to his heart and lungs. He watches her draw some blood, check his pupils and take his blood pressure, and after she has palpitated his neck and throat she sighs deeply.

"What is it," he asks, worry evident in his voice.

She crosses her arms and gives him a level stare.

"Well, Sir, I can't be a hundred percent certain, with my limited diagnostic tools here, but…"

He bites his lower lip – something she has always found incredibly attractive and arousing.

"But?" he echoes.

"It sure looks like a case of the Furlings to me."

"The what?"


His eyes narrow. "Aren't they supposed to be one of the four major races?"

TJ shakes her head. "Nope. It's an affliction that all of the major races have, including humans. It's when you worry too much."

Young's features soften into a gentle smile.

"Ah. What's your prescribed treatment, doc?"

She gives him a coy grin.

"You need some serious cuddle time, Sir."

"Mmhmm... okay."

"Hydroponics, at midnight."

He chuckles.

"I'll be there."


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