Title: Spic-n-Span
Author: Chrysa
Email: chrysa9@aol.com
Summary: Who cleans Atlantis?
Disclaimer: I own Maggie. I don’t own Atlantis. Damn.
Author Notes: Because Mara put up this challenge and woke my muse up. I’d say ‘drat’ but now this is leading to a few other plot bunnies. Oh god.
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Sometimes I wonder if people believe Atlantis cleans herself. Occasionally, it makes me giggle to think the lofty wonderful Ancients had cleaning grunts, people in long white robes walking around with a mop and a bucket. Can you imagine that?
My name’s Maggie, Airman Maggie Lunel. Pleased to meet you. I’m the cleaning staff over here on Atlantis. I tend to work the night shift since it’s less busy and no one’s rushing anywhere because of some life or death crisis. I guess I should be thankful to the TPTB that most emergencies happen in the day time.
It gives me enough time during the night to clean up the blood and other things before the morning shifts come in.
Like I said, I work the mainly night shift so nobody big like Dr. Weir or Major Sheppard, ever really notices me except in passing but they’re very polite when we do bump into one another. I usually get the small quiet smiles from the insomniacs, and night owls that populate every department and the Marines on guard duty joke with me as I pass by with my cleaning cart.
In the meantime I’ve formed pretty good relationships a few of the science departments though. They stay on the lookout for cleaning solutions that I can use since the chemicals I was sent with are running low and there are only so many times you can add water to them before they just become ineffective. In return I make sure that their labs are spic and span, which is a challenge since they’re their at all hours of the day and night running experiments and doing research.
I haven’t asked for help yet. I sort of like doing the cleaning by myself. It’s…cathartic in a way. My mind drifts while I scrub this or wash that and inside it’s almost as if I can wash some of the stuff I’ve gone through out of my mind.
Maybe that’s the reason I came here. A clean slate. I get to recreate that every night and, like my mind, Atlantis is sparkling clean in the morning.
Anyway, I don’t do it all by myself. I do have a little help. It’s just not people help.
Roombas.
No not the dance, the machines!
I love roombas. If you don’t know what those are they are these little flat circular machines that vacuum by themselves. I made the SGC get me three. I named and labeled them Larry, Moe and Curly after the Three Stooges. They’ve got their own little rechargeable batteries; recharging bases, filters…I could go on and on.
I can see your eyes glazing over a bit. I’m sorry.
My routine rarely varies. I set the roombas loose to do their jobs while I mop up a few other floors, like medical and the gateroom. They make their way back to their chargers when they run low on power. Then I come pick them up, empty them out and drop them off where I just mopped while I take care of the areas they cleaned. It makes it a little easier for me.
I set Moe in mess hall with Bernie who’s kind enough to make sure all the tables are cleaned and all the chairs are on the table so Moe can do his job unimpeded. Larry I slip in with Pete who does the laundry and he takes it over to Jake the barber.
After all grunts should take care of one another right? They do some of the hardest work so I make sure they get taken care of first and in return they take care of me.
Curly I let loose in the science labs starting with the chemists and botanists and then he meanders to and fro and finally ends up in Dr. McKay’s lab. I’ve never figured that one out. No matter where I start Curly he always ends up in Dr. McKay’s lab right next to the doctor’s foot instead of in his charger. I wonder if my machine has a crush on him. I’m surprised Curly hasn’t been stepped on yet considering how fast Dr. McKay can move when he’s excited about something.
Speaking of Dr. McKay, he really surprises me. I came in from cleaning the gateroom one night to pick up Curly and the doctor was on his hands and knees on the far side of the lab searching for something.
This is not the usual state of affairs I find him in so of course I had to ask, “Is anything wrong, Dr. McKay?”
“Yes! Yes! If it wasn’t would I be on my hands and knees?” His rear bounced up and down as he scrambled around the leg of a table to look at me crossly.
I’ve been celibate too long if the sight of that makes me think naughty thoughts. “I don’t know. Would you?”
I wonder if he’s patented that Glare of Death.
I tried again. “What are you looking for?”
With a sigh of annoyance, Dr. McKay extricated himself from the underside of the table and came barreling towards me like a locomotive. I hastily stepped out of the way as he strode past me to his laptop and brought up a picture of a small flat purple oblong. “It’s an Ancient device I was working on and now it’s gone!”
I looked down to see Curly sitting quietly at Dr. McKay’s feet. Hmmm. “Did you check Curly?”
“What? What the hell is ‘Curly’?”
I pointed at his feet. “The roomba that cleans the labs.”
Like I said the man can move fast when he’s excited about something. In two minutes flat he had Curly opened and was holding his object triumphantly in the air. He looked at Curly through narrowed eyes. “I wonder what else this little fella has picked up.”
“He picks up all sorts of things.” I answered checking through the dirt then dumping it into my carts’ waste bin and putting him back together. “I usually check them before I dump them incase someone lost something.”
“Any chance he’s found Kavanagh’s brain?” I looked up in delighted surprise and caught the flash of mischief in Dr. McKay’s eyes.
“I don’t think so, sir. I think that got washed overboard when I dumped out my bucket.”
That set him off laughing. “So, you named them after the Three Stooges?”
“Wouldn’t you have if you’d gotten three of them?” I asked. “To me it was a logical choice. I suppose I could have named them after the three Musketeers but…actually, it didn’t occur to me.” I smiled and bid him good night taking Curly with me.
Two weeks later on my doorstep were three roomba-like things but much taller and filled with cleaning solution. On the tops in careful precise letter were the names Athos, Porthos and Aramis. They were mopping roombas and they were naquada powered so they never had to recharge. I was so happy I nearly cried.
It’s wonderful to feel so valued.
I’ve used them ever since except for cleaning up the blood. I still do that myself. Some things you have to do yourself.
The End.
