siriaeve and I first met a year ago today! We met in front of Trinity's campanile, recognizing each other thanks to her purple coat and my stripy bag. We went to Dublin's first Starbucks (which, since it appeared not long after my arrival, I still blame myself for), where I ordered a Frappuccino and she (foolish newbie!) had tea. Then she told me about her gay cows and thus, a friendship was born!
Siria, I'm so, so glad I met you this year. I can't quantify it. In fact, I'm going to be very John-like and do almost anything to avoid actually having to talk about my feelings, so instead, I wrote you fic.
Well, a ficlet. A very sad attempt at Rodney/Teyla. But I tried!
*huge transcontinental hugs*
Title: Lingua Franca
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rodney/Teyla
Length: ~700 words
Summary: "Does it bother you that we do not speak the same language?"
A/N: For
siriaeve, on our anniversary. And in memory of pot holders and presses.
A/N2: I may have committed a major Stargate fandom faux pas in writing this. More notes at end, but if it really bothers you, just pretend it’s AU.
( Lingua Franca )