FanFic100: #013 Yellow
Title: Days like these
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Cadman/Lorne
Prompt: #013 Yellow
Word Count: 2.016
Rating: K+
Summary: If Evan Lorne thought this morning was like any other mornings he's in for a big surprise.
Author's Notes: And here we go with the second part to "Tangerine trees and marmalade skies"... actually, I was really surprised at how much everyone liked it (psht, shut up, mackenziesmomma :P) and uh... am a little anxious about how you'll like this one (shut up again, mac :P). So... uh... have fun reading it ;) And here's the LDT.
Days like these
“You're still in bed at ten and work began at eight
You've burned your breakfast so far, things are going great
Your mama warned you there'd be days like these.”
The Rembrandts, “I’ll be there for you”
Not to impose on you or anything, sir, but… next time they put you on painkillers and send you home to sleep it off you should maybe have someone make sure you actually stay in bed while you do it.
PS.: Nice London Underground boxers. Would love to go there one day myself :)
Holy… crap. Holy, holy, holy crap.
He read the post-it note at least three times now and still all he can think of is “Holy crap.” Whatever he did last night while supposed to be in his bed sleeping he obviously didn’t do that. That doesn’t explain, though, what he did… and who left the note behind. He thinks he knows the handwriting but for the life of him can’t remember whom exactly it belongs to.
It’s scrawled and a little slurred but pretty definitely female… and it must be one of his soldiers because they are the only ones who call him… damn, no, some of the technicians also call him “sir” on a regular basis. But yeah, at least that narrows it down to the female soldiers and technicians which means he has only about… oh… 85 suspects. Well, as long as whoever wrote that note didn’t insert the “sir” to lead him on a wrong track.
Groaning he lowers his head and starts to massage his neck with his good arm. This is so not a good way to start the day. Feeling hung-over from the stuff they gave him in the infirmary, with a dull ache in his injured arm, drawing a blank on whatever he did last night, racking his head about who left behind that note… and slightly blushing because of the wretched PS. Why ever did he decide to wear boxers instead of his usual pajamas, anyway - and why did it have to be the boxers his sister brought him from her last trip to London, of all things?
Oh well. There’s no use in whining, he tells himself. In fact, he has to track down whoever wrote that note to squeeze her for the dirty details of what he did last night… and get her to shut up about this, preferably forever. The last thing he wants is the entire city laughing about him because of something he doesn’t even know what exactly it is.
Determinedly, he gets up from his bed and tackles the difficult task of showering and dressing with one arm in a sling. After he has finally managed this, he leaves his quarters to report back for duty… and find an excuse for why he will hole up himself in his office to read handwritten reports for as long as he needs to find the author of that note.
Fortunately both Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Carter believe his ruse of having to reduce the amount of paper work on his desk and refrain from giving him any tasks that require him to be away from aforementioned desk. So he settles down and starts going through all the handwritten reports from female soldiers, technicians, scientists and administration personnel he has received in the last four weeks.
A few times he thinks he’s found the culprit but in the end always rejects his suspicions. Dr. Lindsay for example has handwriting that looks very similar but writing something like that? Definitely not her style unless her docile and even timid nature is a very good cover for a spirited and cheeky personality. No… definitely not Dr. Lindsay. Then he stumbles over one of Antonia Stavros’ reports… but dismisses it almost immediately. Stavros has never called him “sir” before and it’s highly unlikely she would do so now all of a sudden.
In the next hours he finds a few suspects that are more likely to be able to pull something off like that note - Dr. Galina Nemkova, Sergeant Dusty Mehra, Private Isobel Herreira, Amelia Banks and Dr. Sabrina Hijdekke - and puts them all on a stack. A little… no, pretty much frustrated, he stares at the stack like it’s his worst enemy for a long minute and then stares at the stack with the still unread reports in the same way for another long minute. God, he’ll never find the woman responsible for that note.
Annoyed, he growls something unintelligible and decides to let the stacks be stacks for a while and distract himself with lunch. He’s not really hungry but at least that will get him out of this dredged broom cupboard - he’s almost sure that this was the actual purpose of the “room” - and give him a change of scene for at least half an hour or so. Of course he could also simply call off the search and hope whoever wrote the note is discreet enough to keep everything that happened to herself but for some reason… he feels like he needs to finish what he started. Probably because he always finishes what he started but… ah, hell. Lunch, now.
And so he sets off, keeping himself from grumbling to himself. He doesn’t even notice, though, that he looks intimidating enough that people give him a wide berth the whole way from his office to the mess hall. He’s about to join the food line… when he suddenly hears someone behind him say, “You know I think I’ll pass my next leave in London. Always wanted to go there.”
Almost out of reflex his head whips around to see Captain Cadman and Sergeant Mehra disappear behind the next bend and he almost feels like the little light bulb from the cartoons goes on over his head. That’s it. That scribble is Cadman’s handwriting. Of course. Why didn’t he see that earlier? Okay, maybe because there was still some residue of those painkillers in his blood… doesn’t matter, anyway.
Abandoning his plans for lunch, he actually sinks as low as running into the direction where Cadman and Mehra disappeared, hoping they haven’t taken the transporter… Thank God they didn’t. Instead they’re still walking down the corridor, talking… oh well, it’s now or never. And with any luck, Mehra won’t know what this is about, anyway.
He jogs up to the two Marines, resisting the temptation to call out to them. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to because as soon as they hear him, they stop and turn around. Both look a little questioningly at him when he stops in front of them. “Captain… a word with you?”
Cadman narrows her eyes a little. “Sure, sir. About what exactly?”
For a moment he considers sending Mehra away but for some reason he has the feeling that this would just make her suspicious and not help any so he just takes out the post-it. “About this.” With that he hands it over to a still confused looking Cadman.
She takes a moment to read it, not bothering to shield it from Mehra’s eyes and… suddenly there’s a barely hidden grin on Mehra’s face. Oh crap. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap. Mehra knows what this is about, no doubt… and from the look of it because she was actually there when it happened, not because Cadman blabbed about it. Damn.
Cadman, however, actually makes an effort to appear like she isn't fazed by the news and tries to handle the whole situation with at least a minimum of decorum. “Oh, that… well…” And then she does something he really hadn't counted on, “Sergeant… could you excuse us, please?” Mehra wants to protest but Cadman just narrows her eyes again… after… was that a wink? Seems like he’s really in trouble.
But at least after that Mehra simply nods a little disgruntled at being left out, says, “Of course, ma’am,” and turns to leave.
Cadman turns back to him again and he straightens himself. He’ll have a very mature and professional conversation about this, no matter if they are in a busy corridor and if Cadman looks like she is having a hard time hiding her amusement. “So… care to tell me how this got into my quarters?”
She folds her fingers behind her back, looking very much by the book and Marine-y. “I put it there, sir.”
Uh-huh. Right. That got him… well… nowhere, to be precise. And that she seems to be enjoying herself immensely is not helping, either. “I was aware of that, Captain, thank you very much.” Already getting passive-aggressive, sir is what her face says and he does have some difficulties remaining calm about that. “What I meant was: Why did you put it there?” And then he realizes his mistake. Unfortunately, it’s already too late.
“To remind you to make sure to be careful when taking painkillers, sir.” Yeah, that was to be expected. Still… he feels compelled to remind Cadman of who she is talking with but just for the sake of finding out what exactly happened he decides to rein it in for just a few more moments.
“I appreciate that, Captain… but why exactly did you think it was necessary to remind me?” Come on, he thinks, as funny as this might be for you… why don’t you show just a little bit of mercy?
For a moment, it looks like Cadman is about to play her game a little while longer but then she gives him a smile that looks a little sympathetic and says, “Honestly, sir? You don’t really want to know.” Yes, he does, dammit.
“Oh, I think I do. And I think I deserve to know what happened last night.” She bites her lip and looks a little… sheepish now.
“Look, sir… I’m not telling you because… I like you.” She… what? “As a CO, I mean.” Oh… okay. “I made all the girls swear they wouldn’t blab and told them what exactly awaits them if they do, so you should be…”
“All the girls? Captain, what the hell…” That little aside really left him… speechless. Whatever happened… more than two Atlantis women were witnesses to it and that is… all kinds of bad.
Accordingly, Cadman just managed to… blush a little. Oh God, what did he do? “Oh, uh… yeah, well, you kinda crashed our girls’ poker night last night…” Damn, he’d been sleep walking again. Obviously in his boxers. Right into an Atlantis girls’ poker night. Holy fucking… hell. Where is that neat hole in the ground when you need it? “Uh, sir, is everything okay? I promise, your little secret will be safe with all of us… but it would be nice if you would reciprocate a little.”
Argh! Why did it have to be Cadman of all people to have caught him at sleepwalking in his boxers? She’s the only junior officer bold enough to pull off a blackmail. Oh well, he’s probably lucky it was only Cadman and not Carter or Sheppard because that would be embarrassing enough for him to consider leaving Atlantis and the Stargate program altogether. He sighs. “Alright, what do you want from me, Cadman?”
Grinning, she shoots at him, “Don’t worry, sir, it doesn’t involve tables or blue paint.” She must have seen his slightly horrified face and hurries to get serious again. “Uh… never mind, sir. Anyway… there’s this little issue with Rodney screwing up my experiments because he constantly tampers with some parameters…” Oh… she wants him to harass Rodney? Well, maybe that kind of blackmail isn’t that bad after all.
He can wrestle a grin from himself. “Do go on, Captain. I’m most interested.” Realizing that he actually decided to go along with her little attempt at blackmail, she gives him another bright grin and starts telling him about Rodney’s misdeeds in the explosives lab and while they discuss possible ways to make him stop… he gets the feeling it won’t take him that much of an effort to convince her to tell him what he did last night, after all.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Cadman/Lorne
Prompt: #013 Yellow
Word Count: 2.016
Rating: K+
Summary: If Evan Lorne thought this morning was like any other mornings he's in for a big surprise.
Author's Notes: And here we go with the second part to "Tangerine trees and marmalade skies"... actually, I was really surprised at how much everyone liked it (psht, shut up, mackenziesmomma :P) and uh... am a little anxious about how you'll like this one (shut up again, mac :P). So... uh... have fun reading it ;) And here's the LDT.
Days like these
“You're still in bed at ten and work began at eight
You've burned your breakfast so far, things are going great
Your mama warned you there'd be days like these.”
The Rembrandts, “I’ll be there for you”
Not to impose on you or anything, sir, but… next time they put you on painkillers and send you home to sleep it off you should maybe have someone make sure you actually stay in bed while you do it.
PS.: Nice London Underground boxers. Would love to go there one day myself :)
Holy… crap. Holy, holy, holy crap.
He read the post-it note at least three times now and still all he can think of is “Holy crap.” Whatever he did last night while supposed to be in his bed sleeping he obviously didn’t do that. That doesn’t explain, though, what he did… and who left the note behind. He thinks he knows the handwriting but for the life of him can’t remember whom exactly it belongs to.
It’s scrawled and a little slurred but pretty definitely female… and it must be one of his soldiers because they are the only ones who call him… damn, no, some of the technicians also call him “sir” on a regular basis. But yeah, at least that narrows it down to the female soldiers and technicians which means he has only about… oh… 85 suspects. Well, as long as whoever wrote that note didn’t insert the “sir” to lead him on a wrong track.
Groaning he lowers his head and starts to massage his neck with his good arm. This is so not a good way to start the day. Feeling hung-over from the stuff they gave him in the infirmary, with a dull ache in his injured arm, drawing a blank on whatever he did last night, racking his head about who left behind that note… and slightly blushing because of the wretched PS. Why ever did he decide to wear boxers instead of his usual pajamas, anyway - and why did it have to be the boxers his sister brought him from her last trip to London, of all things?
Oh well. There’s no use in whining, he tells himself. In fact, he has to track down whoever wrote that note to squeeze her for the dirty details of what he did last night… and get her to shut up about this, preferably forever. The last thing he wants is the entire city laughing about him because of something he doesn’t even know what exactly it is.
Determinedly, he gets up from his bed and tackles the difficult task of showering and dressing with one arm in a sling. After he has finally managed this, he leaves his quarters to report back for duty… and find an excuse for why he will hole up himself in his office to read handwritten reports for as long as he needs to find the author of that note.
Fortunately both Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Carter believe his ruse of having to reduce the amount of paper work on his desk and refrain from giving him any tasks that require him to be away from aforementioned desk. So he settles down and starts going through all the handwritten reports from female soldiers, technicians, scientists and administration personnel he has received in the last four weeks.
A few times he thinks he’s found the culprit but in the end always rejects his suspicions. Dr. Lindsay for example has handwriting that looks very similar but writing something like that? Definitely not her style unless her docile and even timid nature is a very good cover for a spirited and cheeky personality. No… definitely not Dr. Lindsay. Then he stumbles over one of Antonia Stavros’ reports… but dismisses it almost immediately. Stavros has never called him “sir” before and it’s highly unlikely she would do so now all of a sudden.
In the next hours he finds a few suspects that are more likely to be able to pull something off like that note - Dr. Galina Nemkova, Sergeant Dusty Mehra, Private Isobel Herreira, Amelia Banks and Dr. Sabrina Hijdekke - and puts them all on a stack. A little… no, pretty much frustrated, he stares at the stack like it’s his worst enemy for a long minute and then stares at the stack with the still unread reports in the same way for another long minute. God, he’ll never find the woman responsible for that note.
Annoyed, he growls something unintelligible and decides to let the stacks be stacks for a while and distract himself with lunch. He’s not really hungry but at least that will get him out of this dredged broom cupboard - he’s almost sure that this was the actual purpose of the “room” - and give him a change of scene for at least half an hour or so. Of course he could also simply call off the search and hope whoever wrote the note is discreet enough to keep everything that happened to herself but for some reason… he feels like he needs to finish what he started. Probably because he always finishes what he started but… ah, hell. Lunch, now.
And so he sets off, keeping himself from grumbling to himself. He doesn’t even notice, though, that he looks intimidating enough that people give him a wide berth the whole way from his office to the mess hall. He’s about to join the food line… when he suddenly hears someone behind him say, “You know I think I’ll pass my next leave in London. Always wanted to go there.”
Almost out of reflex his head whips around to see Captain Cadman and Sergeant Mehra disappear behind the next bend and he almost feels like the little light bulb from the cartoons goes on over his head. That’s it. That scribble is Cadman’s handwriting. Of course. Why didn’t he see that earlier? Okay, maybe because there was still some residue of those painkillers in his blood… doesn’t matter, anyway.
Abandoning his plans for lunch, he actually sinks as low as running into the direction where Cadman and Mehra disappeared, hoping they haven’t taken the transporter… Thank God they didn’t. Instead they’re still walking down the corridor, talking… oh well, it’s now or never. And with any luck, Mehra won’t know what this is about, anyway.
He jogs up to the two Marines, resisting the temptation to call out to them. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to because as soon as they hear him, they stop and turn around. Both look a little questioningly at him when he stops in front of them. “Captain… a word with you?”
Cadman narrows her eyes a little. “Sure, sir. About what exactly?”
For a moment he considers sending Mehra away but for some reason he has the feeling that this would just make her suspicious and not help any so he just takes out the post-it. “About this.” With that he hands it over to a still confused looking Cadman.
She takes a moment to read it, not bothering to shield it from Mehra’s eyes and… suddenly there’s a barely hidden grin on Mehra’s face. Oh crap. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap. Mehra knows what this is about, no doubt… and from the look of it because she was actually there when it happened, not because Cadman blabbed about it. Damn.
Cadman, however, actually makes an effort to appear like she isn't fazed by the news and tries to handle the whole situation with at least a minimum of decorum. “Oh, that… well…” And then she does something he really hadn't counted on, “Sergeant… could you excuse us, please?” Mehra wants to protest but Cadman just narrows her eyes again… after… was that a wink? Seems like he’s really in trouble.
But at least after that Mehra simply nods a little disgruntled at being left out, says, “Of course, ma’am,” and turns to leave.
Cadman turns back to him again and he straightens himself. He’ll have a very mature and professional conversation about this, no matter if they are in a busy corridor and if Cadman looks like she is having a hard time hiding her amusement. “So… care to tell me how this got into my quarters?”
She folds her fingers behind her back, looking very much by the book and Marine-y. “I put it there, sir.”
Uh-huh. Right. That got him… well… nowhere, to be precise. And that she seems to be enjoying herself immensely is not helping, either. “I was aware of that, Captain, thank you very much.” Already getting passive-aggressive, sir is what her face says and he does have some difficulties remaining calm about that. “What I meant was: Why did you put it there?” And then he realizes his mistake. Unfortunately, it’s already too late.
“To remind you to make sure to be careful when taking painkillers, sir.” Yeah, that was to be expected. Still… he feels compelled to remind Cadman of who she is talking with but just for the sake of finding out what exactly happened he decides to rein it in for just a few more moments.
“I appreciate that, Captain… but why exactly did you think it was necessary to remind me?” Come on, he thinks, as funny as this might be for you… why don’t you show just a little bit of mercy?
For a moment, it looks like Cadman is about to play her game a little while longer but then she gives him a smile that looks a little sympathetic and says, “Honestly, sir? You don’t really want to know.” Yes, he does, dammit.
“Oh, I think I do. And I think I deserve to know what happened last night.” She bites her lip and looks a little… sheepish now.
“Look, sir… I’m not telling you because… I like you.” She… what? “As a CO, I mean.” Oh… okay. “I made all the girls swear they wouldn’t blab and told them what exactly awaits them if they do, so you should be…”
“All the girls? Captain, what the hell…” That little aside really left him… speechless. Whatever happened… more than two Atlantis women were witnesses to it and that is… all kinds of bad.
Accordingly, Cadman just managed to… blush a little. Oh God, what did he do? “Oh, uh… yeah, well, you kinda crashed our girls’ poker night last night…” Damn, he’d been sleep walking again. Obviously in his boxers. Right into an Atlantis girls’ poker night. Holy fucking… hell. Where is that neat hole in the ground when you need it? “Uh, sir, is everything okay? I promise, your little secret will be safe with all of us… but it would be nice if you would reciprocate a little.”
Argh! Why did it have to be Cadman of all people to have caught him at sleepwalking in his boxers? She’s the only junior officer bold enough to pull off a blackmail. Oh well, he’s probably lucky it was only Cadman and not Carter or Sheppard because that would be embarrassing enough for him to consider leaving Atlantis and the Stargate program altogether. He sighs. “Alright, what do you want from me, Cadman?”
Grinning, she shoots at him, “Don’t worry, sir, it doesn’t involve tables or blue paint.” She must have seen his slightly horrified face and hurries to get serious again. “Uh… never mind, sir. Anyway… there’s this little issue with Rodney screwing up my experiments because he constantly tampers with some parameters…” Oh… she wants him to harass Rodney? Well, maybe that kind of blackmail isn’t that bad after all.
He can wrestle a grin from himself. “Do go on, Captain. I’m most interested.” Realizing that he actually decided to go along with her little attempt at blackmail, she gives him another bright grin and starts telling him about Rodney’s misdeeds in the explosives lab and while they discuss possible ways to make him stop… he gets the feeling it won’t take him that much of an effort to convince her to tell him what he did last night, after all.