Disclaimer: I asked for Stargate for Christmas but didn't get it, which means I still don't own this wonderful franchise. I'm just borrowing the characters. I promise to return them in reasonable condition when I'm done.

A/N: I went back and forth on whether to actually post this, but decided I might as well. Fair warning, it's pretty silly, and if you think too hard about it, you'll find about a billion plot holes. But the movies I ripped off, erm, I mean, payed homage to within the story really don't make a whole lot of sense either, so there's that. I hope you enjoy it anyway. As with all my fics, this one is mostly about Lorne, but there's a decent bit with McKay near the end.

No beta on this one (because I am too impatient to post and took too long to finish it), so all mistakes are on me.


Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animals
By: Minnicoops

Evan Lorne was not a fan of Christmas. Well, that wasn't entirely true; he enjoyed celebrating the holiday with his family, which happened anywhere between Halloween and Valentine's Day, depending on when he ended up getting leave. But December 25th itself was a date he could forever blot out of his calendar and never miss.

It wasn't that anything particularly bad ever happened to him on Christmas Day, it's just that nothing particularly good had happened since he joined the Stargate program six years ago. He didn't mind that he had to work most years, and was actually one of the first to volunteer for it to let others go home and be with their families. But for whatever reason, the universe had a dark sense of humor and liked to throw him the most annoying, tedious, and otherwise unpleasant adventures on this day of all days every year.

He was beginning to think Christmas was cursed.

This year, he'd gotten an early Christmas present from the universe in the form of a virus that Beckett said was "basically the Pegasus equivalent of Chicken Pox." He wasn't even sure where he'd picked it up, and somehow, had been the only one on his team lucky enough to contract the itchy red blisters. As irritating as it was, Beckett had concluded that it wasn't a severe case, and so hadn't forced him to stay in the infirmary, which was a relief. However, upon consulting Teyla and realizing the disease was highly contagious, Evan had been quarantined to his quarters until the rash was gone, which was expected to be about a week.

The itching spots and sore throat and slight fever weren't any fun, but Evan tried to look at the positives of the situation, being the optimist that he was. Someone delivered food to him a few times a day, and Jones had lent him his hard drive loaded with movies, plus he still hadn't had a chance to do much sketching since he'd gotten here, so he could do that. Maybe even paint if he felt really motivated. At least he wasn't stuck on that ice planet with Doctor Rednau and Doctor Fertick (who would give McKay a run for his money on being the most self-centered scientists Evan had ever worked with) like two years ago, or trekking through the mosquito infested rainforest planet like last year. And possibly the biggest bright side to being quarantined was that he had a legitimate excuse to miss the Christmas party.

It wasn't technically a "Christmas" party, per say, but rather a "winter solstice celebration" that just happened to fall on December 24th. But since a majority of the people attending it would be the Marines who were stuck in the city for the holidays, and most of them were the type of people who insisted on saying "Merry Christmas" versus "Happy Holidays," it was going to be a Christmas party no matter what Doctor Weir tried to call it.

The entire thing had been planned by the small faction of the Atlantis crew who were concerned about the overall morale of a group of people stuck a three week ride on the Daedalus away from their loved ones. The unofficial "party planning committee" had apparently started hosting these little shindigs every few months since the expedition first arrived in Atlantis (whenever the city wasn't under imminent threat of being destroyed), but now that they were back in communication with Earth, they'd gone all out to make this the biggest party yet.

Evan wasn't opposed to parties in general, he enjoyed the snack tables that went along with them just as much as the next guy, but he'd been in Atlantis for less than five months and wasn't entirely comfortable with his position here yet. That mixed with the fact that he was more of an introvert made the entire idea of awkwardly making small talk all evening unappealing. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or a little sad that he would be missing out on the Christmas karaoke (he'd heard a few of the Marines practicing, and while some were surprisingly good singers, others were unsurprisingly not). But overall, he wasn't too disappointed that he would miss the party, especially since Kennel had promised to bring him some snacks later.

So that was how Evan found himself dozing off while watching Christmas Story (because he might as well) on his laptop, trying to ignore his urge to scratch and wondering what kinds of delicious food the commissary had whipped up for the party.

He woke up some time later to a dead computer and a rumbling stomach. Sitting up, he glanced at the clock and did a double take when he saw the time. No wonder he was hungry; it was almost 2130. His dinner was usually delivered around 1800, but he hadn't heard the door chime. Had he slept through it?

Closing the laptop and pushing it aside, he sighed and reached for his radio. They'd probably gotten busy with the party and forgotten about him. He hated to be the guy who demanded someone cater to him, but he was pretty sure if he didn't ask someone for some food he would just have to go hungry, and this Christmas already sucked enough as it was. Whoever was on duty in the infirmary was probably bored anyway and wouldn't mind the interruption.

He switched his radio to call the frequency for the doctor on duty—he couldn't remember who it was supposed to be tonight—but he got no response. Frowning, he tried again with no luck before switching to the open channel to see if anyone could tell him which doctor was supposed to be in. No response there either.

Double checking that his radio was on (it was), he switched to the command frequency and tried to reach someone there, figuring that even if they were off duty at a party, people like Sheppard and Weir would keep their radios on them. Still nothing. Was his radio not working?

"Okay, that's weird," he murmured to himself, scooting out of bed and deciding he would just pop his head out of the door and see if anyone was milling about. He was getting an "only person left in the world" vibe, probably from being isolated for a few days now, and however irrational it may be, he needed to see that someone else was out there.

The hall was empty, which didn't really mean all that much. It was early enough in the evening that everyone who wasn't on duty was probably still at the party, though he would have expected a few of the early-to-bed folks would be heading back to their quarters, or at least some drunken couples trying to find a quiet place away from everyone. He decided to wander a little ways down the hall, even though he wasn't really supposed to be out and about. His concern grew as the further he went, the more empty hallways he encountered.

He turned toward Ops, because it was closer than the infirmary and he knew that someone would definitely be there, but it would also be less populated than the mess hall, so he wouldn't expose as many people to his Pegasus Pox. He got about halfway there when he finally heard voices coming his direction. Suddenly unsure how he would explain himself when asked why he was wandering around the hallways ("I thought everyone disappeared" sounded a little paranoid), and at the same time realizing he was only dressed in his flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt and didn't even have socks on his feet, he made a split second decision to duck around the corner and hide.

"The commander wants us to check all of these levels," the first voice said. "Check every room. We don't want to miss anyone."

"Aye, sir," said the second, and then there was the sound of boots moving in different directions.

Evan flattened himself against the wall behind a pillar as four men in uniforms he didn't recognize, carrying weapons he'd never seen, marched past. What the hell? Okay, maybe he had been justified in being concerned.

Waiting until they were gone, he continued to sneak down the hall, this time with more caution than before. He didn't make it much further before he ran into more of the unfamiliar soldiers marching down the hall. This time, he got a better view before ducking behind a large potted planet to hide.

Evan had always found it odd that out of the millions of ways life could have evolved in the galaxy, so much of it looked so similar to humans. Of course, a lot of aliens in the Milky Way were technically humans, displaced by the Goa'uld, and in Pegasus apparently the Ancients had some hand in seeding some of the races they encountered, so that helped explain it to a degree. But whoever these people were, they were decidedly not human, even though they had two legs and two arms and one head. Their skin was much too gray, and there were ridges along their cheekbones and noses that almost resembled the Unas Evan had worked with back when he was with SG-11. He hadn't been in Pegasus long, but he'd read a ton of reports and bits of the Ancient database (the translated parts, that is), and he'd never come across a race that matched this description. So who were they, and where had they come from?

"Sir, we've got squadron one posted around the command hub and squadron two and three checking the living spaces now for any stragglers," Evan heard another soldier report. "But the bulk of the Lanteans were in the celebration, as you predicted. We think we have gathered the rest and are sending them to meet the others on Uliruah now."

Uliruah? Didn't ring any bells. But he wasn't thrilled about the idea of his people being transported to wherever it was.

"Wonderful," a gravelly voice answered. "What of the ones who were giving us trouble?"

"They were convinced to cooperate once they saw we were not afraid to use force. Their computer scientist is giving us access to the systems as we speak, though he may require some… motivation to complete the task."

Computer scientist? Had to be McKay or Zelenka. And what exactly did they mean by motivation?

"Good, good. Keep that one in the city, along with the two we've programmed, but get the rest out. I do not want any of them to remain here. Atlantis belongs to us now."

"Yes, sir," the first voice answered. "I will ensure we do another sweep of the other levels once we have completed the living spaces."

Again, the sound of boots, and Evan slid around the pot to remain hidden as they passed by. He could already hear more soldiers marching down the hall. How many of these guys were there, and how had they managed to take Atlantis?

Well, they hadn't taken him yet, and he didn't intend to let them.

He needed a place to lie low while he figured out what the hell was going on and how to stop it. Preferably a place with some guns and a computer—and a computer nerd who could hack into the systems and shut these people out, but he probably wasn't going to get that last one. Maybe if he could rescue whoever they had helping them.

He assumed the armory would be guarded since it was closer to the central tower than where he currently was, which meant both it and his office down the hall from it were out. It sounded like they were searching the quarters now, so probably shouldn't head back that way. One of the labs would have to suffice for now. McKay and Zelenka had to have some Ancient tech in there that could help him out. Hopefully something he could use as a weapon. At the very least, there should be an Ancient PDA, which would be handy for seeing where exactly the bad guys were.

Now he just had to get there without being seen.


A/N: I would love to hear what you think! Leave me a review!