Prompt: Stargate Atlantis, Any Wraith, John Sheppard has become part of Wraith mythology
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/717603.html?thread=94820899#t94820899
"Kenny," Bonewhite said.
Guide blinked at him. "What?"
"Kenny. It is the name John Sheppard gave me. You are Todd, and now I am Kenny."
Guide grunted and turned away, fiddling with the console some more, but Bonewhite knew, Guide was jealous. Unlike Michael, whose name had been bestowed upon him as a trick, Todd and Kenny had been given in camaraderie.
Bonewhite turned and swept out of the bridge, head held high.
Behind him, the other Wraith nudged each other and murmured, wondered: what would it take to earn a name from John Sheppard, the half-Ancestor with the fierce hair and the unquenchable will to live?
Meanwhile, back on Atlantis:
"Kenny? Really?" Rodney demanded. "What are you going to name the next Wraith we come across - Cartman? Kyle? Stan?"
"Cartman the Wraith has a nice ring to it," John said.
"Would that the Wraith died as easy as Kenny," Lorne muttered.
Teyla said, in an admirable imitation of Cartman, "Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"
Lorne, John, and Rodney stared at her.
Teyla said, "Amelia shows me her cartoons sometimes."
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
No. 51
Prompt: Stargate: Atlantis, John Sheppard+/Rodney McKay, Rodney's lemon allergy isn't the weirdest alley in the expedition. No, that would be John's. (Allergy up to author.)
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/716505.html?thread=94671577#t94671577
"Chocolate?" Rodney squawked. "Who the hell is allergic to chocolate?"
Sheppard shrugged and pushed his brownie across the table to Rodney. "That's what I thought the first time you told me you were allergic to citrus."
Now that contact with Earth had been re-established and the expedition was receiving regular supplies via the Daedalus, food from Earth that wasn't crappy MREs or half-assed attempts with Pegasus ingredients substituted in was back on the menu, and Rodney had missed his brownies fiercely.
"So, you eat chocolate and what, break out in hives?" Rodney dragged the brownie close and realized it must look like avarice, but really, he was protecting Sheppard.
"Nothing that extreme. I ingest chocolate, and I can't stand up for three days because my migraine is so bad. Can I have your lemon meringue?"
Rodney hadn't even noticed the KP marines had given him a slice of the lemon meringue pie. He practically flung it across the table. "Take it. It's yours."
"Awesome." Sheppard dug in happily, ignoring the rest of his dinner, because he believed in eating dessert first.
Rodney immediately had to rethink all of his fantasies of him and Sheppard in Sheppard's quarters, naked with nothing but a bottle of chocolate sauce. "So, have you ever eaten chocolate? Or were you so young when the allergy was discovered that you don't remember what it tastes like?"
"I was about...twenty when the base doc figured it out? Had migraines all the time, and it was messing with my training, so they futzed with my diet a whole bunch, and the culprit was...chocolate. So I remember what it tastes like. I miss it a whole lot, actually." Sheppard's expression turned dreamy.
Rodney wished Sheppard's expression would turn dreamy that way for him. "Oh. Well. There are plenty of non-chocolate sweet things to choose from, right?"
"Right." And Sheppard grinned at him.
Rodney wasn't sure what to think when Major Lorne, the new 2IC now that Ford was gone for good, stopped him in the hallway several weeks later.
"What can I do for you, Major?"
Lorne pressed a spray can of whipped cream into his hands and said, "Colonel Sheppard likes whipped cream for dessert." And then he winked and walked away.
Lorne was out of earshot before Rodney could make any sort of protest about privacy and personal boundaries, so he hurried back to his quarters with the can of whipped cream tucked into his jacket so no one would see it (because wouldn't that be weird, Dr. McKay taking a can of whipped cream to his room for some alone time).
Only when he initiated the lock for his quarters, he wasn't alone.
John Sheppard was lounging on his bed reading War and Peace, wearing nothing, and holding a jar of maraschino cherries. When he saw Rodney, he grinned.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/716505.html?thread=94671577#t94671577
"Chocolate?" Rodney squawked. "Who the hell is allergic to chocolate?"
Sheppard shrugged and pushed his brownie across the table to Rodney. "That's what I thought the first time you told me you were allergic to citrus."
Now that contact with Earth had been re-established and the expedition was receiving regular supplies via the Daedalus, food from Earth that wasn't crappy MREs or half-assed attempts with Pegasus ingredients substituted in was back on the menu, and Rodney had missed his brownies fiercely.
"So, you eat chocolate and what, break out in hives?" Rodney dragged the brownie close and realized it must look like avarice, but really, he was protecting Sheppard.
"Nothing that extreme. I ingest chocolate, and I can't stand up for three days because my migraine is so bad. Can I have your lemon meringue?"
Rodney hadn't even noticed the KP marines had given him a slice of the lemon meringue pie. He practically flung it across the table. "Take it. It's yours."
"Awesome." Sheppard dug in happily, ignoring the rest of his dinner, because he believed in eating dessert first.
Rodney immediately had to rethink all of his fantasies of him and Sheppard in Sheppard's quarters, naked with nothing but a bottle of chocolate sauce. "So, have you ever eaten chocolate? Or were you so young when the allergy was discovered that you don't remember what it tastes like?"
"I was about...twenty when the base doc figured it out? Had migraines all the time, and it was messing with my training, so they futzed with my diet a whole bunch, and the culprit was...chocolate. So I remember what it tastes like. I miss it a whole lot, actually." Sheppard's expression turned dreamy.
Rodney wished Sheppard's expression would turn dreamy that way for him. "Oh. Well. There are plenty of non-chocolate sweet things to choose from, right?"
"Right." And Sheppard grinned at him.
Rodney wasn't sure what to think when Major Lorne, the new 2IC now that Ford was gone for good, stopped him in the hallway several weeks later.
"What can I do for you, Major?"
Lorne pressed a spray can of whipped cream into his hands and said, "Colonel Sheppard likes whipped cream for dessert." And then he winked and walked away.
Lorne was out of earshot before Rodney could make any sort of protest about privacy and personal boundaries, so he hurried back to his quarters with the can of whipped cream tucked into his jacket so no one would see it (because wouldn't that be weird, Dr. McKay taking a can of whipped cream to his room for some alone time).
Only when he initiated the lock for his quarters, he wasn't alone.
John Sheppard was lounging on his bed reading War and Peace, wearing nothing, and holding a jar of maraschino cherries. When he saw Rodney, he grinned.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
No. 50
Prompt: Stargate: SG-1, Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson, Summer at Cheyenne means water gun fights when the brass aren't looking.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/714439.html?thread=94376135#t94376135
Jack at his most commanding is ridiculously hot. It's why Daniel can never take him too seriously, because then he'll get distracted in the field. Trading sarcastic barbs is work mode. Jack being all military and bossy? That's sexytimes mode. So Daniel is pretty pleased with himself for keeping a straight face while Jack paces along the line of new recruits, who have formed single file on the grass at the top of the Mountain, at attention.
"This exercise," Jack says, "is designed to instill you with skills that are vital to your continued survival in the Stargate program. I expect you to act with bravery, diligence, and most of all, professionalism. Teal'c, show these marines their fine weapons."
Teal'c, also with an impeccable straight face (that's not difficult for him), holds up a neon orange plastic water pistol. "This is your weapon. Load it like so. Aim it like so. Fire it like so."
Jaws drop.
Jack glares at the marines, and they quickly close their mouths.
"If you are hit in the head, you are dead. If you are hit in any vital organ, you are dead. If you are hit in a limb, that limb is useless to you. There are no reloads. There are no time-outs. There are no take-backs. Now, get out there and rescue our archaeologist."
Daniel waves, then presents his wrists to Teal'c so he can be bound - and he does notice the gleam in Jack's eye when Teal'c snaps the cuffs on - and then follows Teal'c as Teal'c guides him to the "jail" demarcated by a square of white stones. Teal'c has a super soaker.
Jack strides off to the sidelines and tells the marines they have five minutes to formulate their strategy, and then the battle is on.
General Hammond thinks Daniel has taken the marines to Kate Heightmeyer for a lecture on self-care and the psychological stress of being on a gate team.
Daniel doesn't like shrinks, and Jack prefers a little show, don't tell. These kids need to loosen up and laugh, because if they can't, they won't survive the program for long.
"Aaaaand go!" Jack blows on a whistle.
The marines fan out and open fire.
Teal'c's super soaker is full of jello.
The first marine hit looks confused, the second horrified.
And the third, the third laughs.
And Daniel thinks these kids might actually do all right.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/714439.html?thread=94376135#t94376135
Jack at his most commanding is ridiculously hot. It's why Daniel can never take him too seriously, because then he'll get distracted in the field. Trading sarcastic barbs is work mode. Jack being all military and bossy? That's sexytimes mode. So Daniel is pretty pleased with himself for keeping a straight face while Jack paces along the line of new recruits, who have formed single file on the grass at the top of the Mountain, at attention.
"This exercise," Jack says, "is designed to instill you with skills that are vital to your continued survival in the Stargate program. I expect you to act with bravery, diligence, and most of all, professionalism. Teal'c, show these marines their fine weapons."
Teal'c, also with an impeccable straight face (that's not difficult for him), holds up a neon orange plastic water pistol. "This is your weapon. Load it like so. Aim it like so. Fire it like so."
Jaws drop.
Jack glares at the marines, and they quickly close their mouths.
"If you are hit in the head, you are dead. If you are hit in any vital organ, you are dead. If you are hit in a limb, that limb is useless to you. There are no reloads. There are no time-outs. There are no take-backs. Now, get out there and rescue our archaeologist."
Daniel waves, then presents his wrists to Teal'c so he can be bound - and he does notice the gleam in Jack's eye when Teal'c snaps the cuffs on - and then follows Teal'c as Teal'c guides him to the "jail" demarcated by a square of white stones. Teal'c has a super soaker.
Jack strides off to the sidelines and tells the marines they have five minutes to formulate their strategy, and then the battle is on.
General Hammond thinks Daniel has taken the marines to Kate Heightmeyer for a lecture on self-care and the psychological stress of being on a gate team.
Daniel doesn't like shrinks, and Jack prefers a little show, don't tell. These kids need to loosen up and laugh, because if they can't, they won't survive the program for long.
"Aaaaand go!" Jack blows on a whistle.
The marines fan out and open fire.
Teal'c's super soaker is full of jello.
The first marine hit looks confused, the second horrified.
And the third, the third laughs.
And Daniel thinks these kids might actually do all right.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
No. 49
Prompt:Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay (+/Elizabeth Weir), Part of John's ATA expression is the ability to step back and forth through time, but after the disaster that was trying to save his mother's life, he won't use it. Until Rodney and/or Elizabeth are in danger/killed.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/714210.html?thread=94336738#t94336738
Going back too many times, going back too far - that was dangerous. John didn’t realize he had the ATA gene till he sat down in that chair in Antarctica. And he didn’t realize he had the ability to step through time until he landed in Atlantis. Naturally, the first thing he tried was to save his mother.
It never worked. It never worked. The futures he caused with each attempt were disastrous as well, and he ended having to combat time-traveling versions of himself to stop them from creating a terrible future, a future where the Ori and the Goa’uld took over the Earth because O’Neill was killed and no one else could operate the chair well enough. A John whose mother lived was a John who never joined the Air Force. He watched his mother die over and over and over again, and he couldn’t take it anymore, so he stopped trying.
He never thought he’d have to watch Rodney die.
He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t have to step back far, because seconds before Rodney had been live and kicking, running, telling John to look out, get down.
John stepped back in time, and he stepped behind Rodney, into the path of the Wraith blast, and he went down hard, taking Rodney with him, but then Teyla and Lorne were there, laying down cover fire while Teldy grabbed Rodney and Ronon grabbed John, and when his world went black, he at least know Rodney was safe and alive. He refused to watch Rodney die ever again.
And then he woke up in the base infirmary, and Rodney was lying on the cot beside him, and Rodney didn’t remember him. Didn’t remember anyone. And the first person he smiled at was Jennifer Keller.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/714210.html?thread=94336738#t94336738
Going back too many times, going back too far - that was dangerous. John didn’t realize he had the ATA gene till he sat down in that chair in Antarctica. And he didn’t realize he had the ability to step through time until he landed in Atlantis. Naturally, the first thing he tried was to save his mother.
It never worked. It never worked. The futures he caused with each attempt were disastrous as well, and he ended having to combat time-traveling versions of himself to stop them from creating a terrible future, a future where the Ori and the Goa’uld took over the Earth because O’Neill was killed and no one else could operate the chair well enough. A John whose mother lived was a John who never joined the Air Force. He watched his mother die over and over and over again, and he couldn’t take it anymore, so he stopped trying.
He never thought he’d have to watch Rodney die.
He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t have to step back far, because seconds before Rodney had been live and kicking, running, telling John to look out, get down.
John stepped back in time, and he stepped behind Rodney, into the path of the Wraith blast, and he went down hard, taking Rodney with him, but then Teyla and Lorne were there, laying down cover fire while Teldy grabbed Rodney and Ronon grabbed John, and when his world went black, he at least know Rodney was safe and alive. He refused to watch Rodney die ever again.
And then he woke up in the base infirmary, and Rodney was lying on the cot beside him, and Rodney didn’t remember him. Didn’t remember anyone. And the first person he smiled at was Jennifer Keller.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
No. 48
Prompt:Any (except SPN), any, singing this aria in a really inappropriate moment
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/713271.html?thread=94250551#t94250551
"Just let us speak to our people!" Daniel protested.
The guard banged on the cell door. "Shut up, or we'll make you!"
Daniel threw up his hands in frustration. "If we can't tell our leaders what you want, they won't be able to give it to you. You already admitted you don't know how to work the Chappa'ai -"
"I sad shut up!"
Teal'c sat down in the corner and closed his eyes, prepared to Kelnoreem.
Sam sat down beside him, adding another mark to her mental tally of offworld imprisonments.
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud," Jack said. He cleared his throat, lifted his chin, and began to sing. Figaro's aria, from the Barber of Seville.
There was more banging at the door. "Shut up!"
"Sir, what are you doing?" Sam hissed.
Jack had a surprisingly good voice, though. Great Italian enunciation. Daniel was impressed.
"For the last time," the guard snarled, but the the other guard said, "Wait. Listen."
Jack had his eyes closed and was singing his heart out. Sam knew that Figaro's aria was one of the most difficult baritone arias to perform (thanks, music survey class freshman year of college), and she knew Jack liked opera, but it had never occurred to her that he could sing it.
The cell door swung open, and one of the guards was clutching his billhook with one white-knuckled hand, but the other looked transfixed.
"Go," the guard said, nudging his companion. "Fetch the town elders. They need to hear this."
"Huhn," Daniel said, ten minutes later, when they were all shuffled into the town square, with the entire population of the settlement staring at them. "That's one way to get out of jail."
Jack began to sing, and the townspeople began to weep tears of joy, and Daniel wondered if it was time to brush up on his piano skills. Sam really wished she'd taken the time to learn to play the cello.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/713271.html?thread=94250551#t94250551
"Just let us speak to our people!" Daniel protested.
The guard banged on the cell door. "Shut up, or we'll make you!"
Daniel threw up his hands in frustration. "If we can't tell our leaders what you want, they won't be able to give it to you. You already admitted you don't know how to work the Chappa'ai -"
"I sad shut up!"
Teal'c sat down in the corner and closed his eyes, prepared to Kelnoreem.
Sam sat down beside him, adding another mark to her mental tally of offworld imprisonments.
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud," Jack said. He cleared his throat, lifted his chin, and began to sing. Figaro's aria, from the Barber of Seville.
There was more banging at the door. "Shut up!"
"Sir, what are you doing?" Sam hissed.
Jack had a surprisingly good voice, though. Great Italian enunciation. Daniel was impressed.
"For the last time," the guard snarled, but the the other guard said, "Wait. Listen."
Jack had his eyes closed and was singing his heart out. Sam knew that Figaro's aria was one of the most difficult baritone arias to perform (thanks, music survey class freshman year of college), and she knew Jack liked opera, but it had never occurred to her that he could sing it.
The cell door swung open, and one of the guards was clutching his billhook with one white-knuckled hand, but the other looked transfixed.
"Go," the guard said, nudging his companion. "Fetch the town elders. They need to hear this."
"Huhn," Daniel said, ten minutes later, when they were all shuffled into the town square, with the entire population of the settlement staring at them. "That's one way to get out of jail."
Jack began to sing, and the townspeople began to weep tears of joy, and Daniel wondered if it was time to brush up on his piano skills. Sam really wished she'd taken the time to learn to play the cello.
Friday, April 22, 2016
No. 47
Prompt:Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne/David Parrish, Traveling through New England's fall and getting to see the changing of the leaves
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/713000.html?thread=94218536#t94218536
Evan guided the car along the road. He didn't mind taking windy back roads. Having grown up in San Francisco, where it was crowded and he always had to make his way on public transport, taking long drives like this was a rare thing, and as far as Evan was concerned, it was the next best thing to flying. New England was beautiful, too. All the colors the leaves turned before they drifted off the trees - Evan wanted to capture every single hue in a single joyful dash of paint on canvas.
But David had told him to drive and keep on driving and not stop, not ever, so Evan was going to keep at it, even if he wanted a chance to pause and just snap a few pictures for reference. David was small in the passenger seat, shoulders hunched, hands white-knuckled where he was twisting them on his lap.
Finally David said, "I'm sorry."
Evan glanced at him. "What for?"
"For my parents. We only get two weeks on Earth, and -"
"You can't have known they'd react like that."
"They were so disappointed I became a botanist instead of a soldier like everyone else. I should have known. When I told them I was coming home with an Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, they were so pleased, so relieved. I - all of my siblings are straight, and all of the grandkids seem straight so far, so I never thought -"
Evan sighed. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, cut the engine. David made a small sound of distress.
"Evan -"
Evan reached across the front seats, put his hand on David's. "You're not your parents. This isn't your fault. I'm not angry about what they said to me. I'm angry at what they said to you. You're their son."
"My family's not like your family -"
"You didn't hear what everyone on the commune said to me when I signed on with the Air Force." Evan bit back the bitterness in his own voice. "No family is perfect. I'm sorry our leave plans got turned on their head. But we still have each other."
"You sure your mom won't mind us just showing up?"
"I'm pretty sure me showing up with a lovely botanist like you might put a dent in the Everest of disappointment I caused my family when I decided to work for The Man," Evan said. "They'll adore you. Just...don't let my sister talk you into getting a tattoo."
David sighed. "I'm sorry. I -"
"Stop apologizing. We're taking a nice drive through a beautiful part of the country I've never seen before. We're back on Earth, and there's no ocean in sight, an there are no Wraith shooting at us. I'm here with you, and I'm happy, okay?"
"Are you sure?" David peeked at him from beneath spiky wet lashes.
Evan paused. "Well, there is one thing that would make me happier."
"What?"
"This." Evan rolled down the windows, fired up the radio to something slow and jazzy, and stepped out of the car. He circled around the front of the car and opened David's door, offered him a hand.
"What are you doing?"
Evan pulled David into his arms and began to sway with him, and around them the beautiful leaves fell, and for the space of a song, everything in the universe was perfect.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/713000.html?thread=94218536#t94218536
Evan guided the car along the road. He didn't mind taking windy back roads. Having grown up in San Francisco, where it was crowded and he always had to make his way on public transport, taking long drives like this was a rare thing, and as far as Evan was concerned, it was the next best thing to flying. New England was beautiful, too. All the colors the leaves turned before they drifted off the trees - Evan wanted to capture every single hue in a single joyful dash of paint on canvas.
But David had told him to drive and keep on driving and not stop, not ever, so Evan was going to keep at it, even if he wanted a chance to pause and just snap a few pictures for reference. David was small in the passenger seat, shoulders hunched, hands white-knuckled where he was twisting them on his lap.
Finally David said, "I'm sorry."
Evan glanced at him. "What for?"
"For my parents. We only get two weeks on Earth, and -"
"You can't have known they'd react like that."
"They were so disappointed I became a botanist instead of a soldier like everyone else. I should have known. When I told them I was coming home with an Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, they were so pleased, so relieved. I - all of my siblings are straight, and all of the grandkids seem straight so far, so I never thought -"
Evan sighed. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, cut the engine. David made a small sound of distress.
"Evan -"
Evan reached across the front seats, put his hand on David's. "You're not your parents. This isn't your fault. I'm not angry about what they said to me. I'm angry at what they said to you. You're their son."
"My family's not like your family -"
"You didn't hear what everyone on the commune said to me when I signed on with the Air Force." Evan bit back the bitterness in his own voice. "No family is perfect. I'm sorry our leave plans got turned on their head. But we still have each other."
"You sure your mom won't mind us just showing up?"
"I'm pretty sure me showing up with a lovely botanist like you might put a dent in the Everest of disappointment I caused my family when I decided to work for The Man," Evan said. "They'll adore you. Just...don't let my sister talk you into getting a tattoo."
David sighed. "I'm sorry. I -"
"Stop apologizing. We're taking a nice drive through a beautiful part of the country I've never seen before. We're back on Earth, and there's no ocean in sight, an there are no Wraith shooting at us. I'm here with you, and I'm happy, okay?"
"Are you sure?" David peeked at him from beneath spiky wet lashes.
Evan paused. "Well, there is one thing that would make me happier."
"What?"
"This." Evan rolled down the windows, fired up the radio to something slow and jazzy, and stepped out of the car. He circled around the front of the car and opened David's door, offered him a hand.
"What are you doing?"
Evan pulled David into his arms and began to sway with him, and around them the beautiful leaves fell, and for the space of a song, everything in the universe was perfect.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
No. 46
Prompt:Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne/David Parrish, Evan accidentally throws out one of David's plants
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/712932.html?thread=94188260#t94188260
Evan was having a good day. He'd gotten up early, gone for a run with his team, cleaned his room. He loved David, but David had a tendency to hoard the weirdest things, including dead plants. Now that Evan had cleared out their not-officially-shared quarters, the place was brighter and cleaner, and Evan was happy.
He was in the middle of staff reviews - he reviewed the enlisted men, left NCOs and commissioned officers to Sheppard - when the door flew open.
"Evan!"
Evan blinked, startled. He and David had agreed to keep it professional outside their quarters, stick to titles and last names. In fact, most of the soldiers didn't even know Evan's first name. It added to his mystique as XO, the super-efficient Major Lorne, no first name, possibly a robot.
"Dr. Parrish," Evan said carefully.
David stomped into the office, almost elbowing poor little Sergeant Winchester in the head.
"You threw it out!"
Evan blinked. "Threw out what?"
"My Williamsonia Sewardiana!"
Dating a botanist didn't make a man good at botany. That babble of Latin was meaningless. "Apologies, Dr. Parrish. Maybe we can step outside and discuss this in private -"
Except David looked ready to cry.
"Sergeant Winchester, dismissed," Evan said.
Winchester ducked out of the room, grinning. Evan filed that away for later and mentally added Winchester to the consequence column.
"You threw it out! How could you?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Evan stepped around his desk, put his hands on David's shoulders.
"The Williamsonia Sewardiana was from the planet where we first had a mission together. I kept it because it was from our first date!"
Evan didn't really count stumbling over a Wraith corpse as a first date, but he knew David was more sentimental than he was. He pulled David into his arms. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "When we go back to the planet for follow-up, we'll get a new one, okay?"
"But it won't be the same," David protested.
"I know. I'm sorry. I thought all of the plants were dead."
"That one wasn't. It just needed a little water. It was hibernating." David sighed and buried his face against Evan's throat.
"I really am sorry. Next time put a label on it?"
"There was a label in the pot."
Evan winced. He really wasn't going to win this discussion. So he switched tactics and pulled David into a kiss.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/712932.html?thread=94188260#t94188260
Evan was having a good day. He'd gotten up early, gone for a run with his team, cleaned his room. He loved David, but David had a tendency to hoard the weirdest things, including dead plants. Now that Evan had cleared out their not-officially-shared quarters, the place was brighter and cleaner, and Evan was happy.
He was in the middle of staff reviews - he reviewed the enlisted men, left NCOs and commissioned officers to Sheppard - when the door flew open.
"Evan!"
Evan blinked, startled. He and David had agreed to keep it professional outside their quarters, stick to titles and last names. In fact, most of the soldiers didn't even know Evan's first name. It added to his mystique as XO, the super-efficient Major Lorne, no first name, possibly a robot.
"Dr. Parrish," Evan said carefully.
David stomped into the office, almost elbowing poor little Sergeant Winchester in the head.
"You threw it out!"
Evan blinked. "Threw out what?"
"My Williamsonia Sewardiana!"
Dating a botanist didn't make a man good at botany. That babble of Latin was meaningless. "Apologies, Dr. Parrish. Maybe we can step outside and discuss this in private -"
Except David looked ready to cry.
"Sergeant Winchester, dismissed," Evan said.
Winchester ducked out of the room, grinning. Evan filed that away for later and mentally added Winchester to the consequence column.
"You threw it out! How could you?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Evan stepped around his desk, put his hands on David's shoulders.
"The Williamsonia Sewardiana was from the planet where we first had a mission together. I kept it because it was from our first date!"
Evan didn't really count stumbling over a Wraith corpse as a first date, but he knew David was more sentimental than he was. He pulled David into his arms. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "When we go back to the planet for follow-up, we'll get a new one, okay?"
"But it won't be the same," David protested.
"I know. I'm sorry. I thought all of the plants were dead."
"That one wasn't. It just needed a little water. It was hibernating." David sighed and buried his face against Evan's throat.
"I really am sorry. Next time put a label on it?"
"There was a label in the pot."
Evan winced. He really wasn't going to win this discussion. So he switched tactics and pulled David into a kiss.