FanFic100: #011 Red
Title: What we all crave
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Cadman/Lorne
Prompt: #011 Red
Word Count: 1.347
Rating: K+
Summary: Dancing was never Evan Lorne's forte... well, dancing at overcrowded clubs with loud music, that is.
Author's Notes: There we go again, week two of the AMCM, as mackenziesmomma has dubbed it ;) She also pointed out to me at least one major research flaw in this story for which I'm still very grateful to her. BTW, I started twittering (i.e. microblogging on twitter.com), mainly to read others twitter, but also to give short up-dates on my various stories that are unfinished or are in the development stage. So if you want to keep up to date also on the stories that I don't update quite as often as Fanfic100, just look here. I promise to be more regular about this than with the actual updates to my multi-chaptered stories. And here's the LDT.
What we all crave
“And what we all want and what we all crave,
Is an upbeat song,
So we can dance the night away.”
Amy MacDonald, “Poison Prince”
Why the hell did he let himself be dragged into this? Why, with his 35 years and the weight of his Major’s oak leaves on his shoulders couldn’t he say no to Cameron Mitchell and the bunch of young heroes following him devotedly and simply stay on the base? It was a long day and he has to catch the first flight to San Francisco early the next morning. He should be in bed by now.
But no, he’s just entered one of the clubs in Colorado Springs he has managed to avoid for all the time he served here - first as a cadet of the Air Force Academy, then as a member of an SG-team. It’s crowded with Armed Forces personnel. Young cadets happy to be away from the Academy’s confines, soldiers who just returned from Iraq or Afghanistan, eager to forget about what they have seen, soldiers just about to leave for these countries, eager to forget about what they will see.
Aw, fuck. It’s not only crowded, it’s also loud as hell. He frowns. If he’d wanted loud, he could have just driven up to Peterson Air Force Base or Fort Carson. There at least it would have been the homely sound of good old Kiowa Warriors or C-130 Hercules engines. Granted, if he had the choice, he would always choose the flight deck onboard the Daedalus. Nothing like the roar of a finely tuned F-302…
“Hey, Major, is it just you or are all Atlantis soldiers so averse to having a little fun?” The frown stays put as he turns towards Colonel Mitchell, and only the fact that the other is a senior rank prevents him from giving back some cracking response. And anyway… he can have fun. Just not… in this environment.
He’s about to cast that in a carefully phrased answer, when another group enters the club. It’s entirely made up of women, maybe five or six of them. All in their late twenties, maybe early thirties, and obviously set on having fun tonight as they storm the dance floor right away. One of them - a vivacious red-head - catches his eye almost immediately, even if he can only catch glimpses of her and mostly sees her back.
It’s the way she moves, he decides. So totally carefree and confident, like she knows she can move and turn heads if she just walks the right way. He’s totally forgotten about answering Mitchell, and the Colonel seems to have noticed that all of a sudden the noise and the people don’t seem to bother the Major anymore, anyway. His gaze is transfixed on the red-head, watching her every move, seeing her throw her hair, bending her head… and then she suddenly turns around to show him her profile and the crowd stays out of his sight long enough for him to realize that he knows this woman.
It’s one of the Marines that used to serve on Atlantis, a while back… he recalls that she had something going on with Carson Beckett, before they called it quits and she went back to Earth. Laura Cadman, that’s her name. He never really noticed her, what with only seeing her in service attire and maybe once or twice in slacks during some informal get-togethers. But here… with the skimpy top and the tight jeans and her hair down and the discreet make-up… She’s dancing with her friends, now and then skimming on flirting with one of the guys on the dance floor next to her, and suddenly he finds himself wishing he wasn’t such an abysmal dancer and had the courage to simply walk up to her and do a little more than only flirting a little.
Alright. Wait. What did he just think? He’s a mature man of 35, not some 16-year-old with raging hormones. Forcing himself to turn away from the enticing sight of Laura Cadman dancing he walks over to the bar. He really needs something to drink now, and not only because his mouth had gone all dry during those last few minutes of openly staring at a woman that used to be his subordinate.
But sitting there and waiting for his drink and not turning around again and searching the crowd for her takes much more effort than he anticipated. So much, in fact, that he doesn’t register a familiar figure appearing beside him at first, what with all his concentration on looking anywhere but the dance floor. Then his gaze strays a little to his left and… it nearly knocks him off his chair. There, just a few inches away from him the object of his desire is leaning against the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.
Do something, he thinks. Be cool, be suave, be a gentleman… but all he does is stare at her and drink in the slightly unnerved tapping of her fingers on the counter, the little wet wisps of her hair clinging to her neck, her tongue darting out to lick her lip… “Hey, is that guy deaf or somethi… Major Lorne? What the hell are you doing here?” Oh God. She didn’t just speak to him, right? No. Yes. No. Say something, you idiot.
Staring at you and feeling a little like a sick old man, would be a good answer. On second thought… maybe not. “Actually… I’m not quite sure about that myself.”
Something must have been funny because her mouth curls up in a smile. “What, you just got beamed here?” Puddle of goo. That’s what his brain must have turned into. Just at the sight of Laura Cadman smiling at him with cheeks still a little flushed from dancing. Just like that.
“More like got shanghaied here.” That turns the smile into a full-out grin.
“Major Hennings?” Whoa, good thing he’s already sitting because if he wasn’t… his knees would have simply folded beneath him.
“Colonel Mitchell. Simply can’t say no to a guy two ranks your senior.” It’s amazing. That he isn’t already reduced to a stammering idiot, that is. By now, she sat down beside him, with her knee touching his now and then, and he could swear she’s doing it intentionally.
“So… enjoy it here, Major?” He wants to quip something witty back, but… then his gaze falls on her cleavage, if only for a second, but that’s already enough.
“Yes.” That earns him a light slap on the arm.
“Hey, my eyes are up here!” God, he’s making such a fool of himself. That’s the first time a woman ever said that to him, and he feels himself going beet-red in the face… and even redder when she’s suddenly laughing. “I was joking. I’m surrounded by flyboys who think they are God’s gift to women all the time… Really, I can take a little accidental staring.” Yeah, well… would have been okay, if that actually was accidentally.
“I wasn’t…” But she doesn’t let him finish his sentence, only gives him a look saying ‘Yeah, sure, and I’m the Commander-in-Chief.’
“Course not. Oh, hey, care for a little dancing? I hear you flyboys are a breeze as dancers.” Other flyboys maybe, but surely not him. At least not this kind of dancing.
“Actually, I’m not…” Right in that moment, a new tune starts and she grabs his hand. So totally caught off-guard by this, he lets himself be dragged up by her.
“Ladies’ choice, sir. Tonight I’ll call the shots.” Well… considering it means that he is the one she chose - instead of all the daring young heroes here she could have chosen - it’s not that bad not to be the one in the lead, just for once.
“Alright… lead the way, Lieutenant.” She grins again, and the grip of her hand around his tightens just a little more.
“With pleasure, Major.” Mh. Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Cadman/Lorne
Prompt: #011 Red
Word Count: 1.347
Rating: K+
Summary: Dancing was never Evan Lorne's forte... well, dancing at overcrowded clubs with loud music, that is.
Author's Notes: There we go again, week two of the AMCM, as mackenziesmomma has dubbed it ;) She also pointed out to me at least one major research flaw in this story for which I'm still very grateful to her. BTW, I started twittering (i.e. microblogging on twitter.com), mainly to read others twitter, but also to give short up-dates on my various stories that are unfinished or are in the development stage. So if you want to keep up to date also on the stories that I don't update quite as often as Fanfic100, just look here. I promise to be more regular about this than with the actual updates to my multi-chaptered stories. And here's the LDT.
What we all crave
“And what we all want and what we all crave,
Is an upbeat song,
So we can dance the night away.”
Amy MacDonald, “Poison Prince”
Why the hell did he let himself be dragged into this? Why, with his 35 years and the weight of his Major’s oak leaves on his shoulders couldn’t he say no to Cameron Mitchell and the bunch of young heroes following him devotedly and simply stay on the base? It was a long day and he has to catch the first flight to San Francisco early the next morning. He should be in bed by now.
But no, he’s just entered one of the clubs in Colorado Springs he has managed to avoid for all the time he served here - first as a cadet of the Air Force Academy, then as a member of an SG-team. It’s crowded with Armed Forces personnel. Young cadets happy to be away from the Academy’s confines, soldiers who just returned from Iraq or Afghanistan, eager to forget about what they have seen, soldiers just about to leave for these countries, eager to forget about what they will see.
Aw, fuck. It’s not only crowded, it’s also loud as hell. He frowns. If he’d wanted loud, he could have just driven up to Peterson Air Force Base or Fort Carson. There at least it would have been the homely sound of good old Kiowa Warriors or C-130 Hercules engines. Granted, if he had the choice, he would always choose the flight deck onboard the Daedalus. Nothing like the roar of a finely tuned F-302…
“Hey, Major, is it just you or are all Atlantis soldiers so averse to having a little fun?” The frown stays put as he turns towards Colonel Mitchell, and only the fact that the other is a senior rank prevents him from giving back some cracking response. And anyway… he can have fun. Just not… in this environment.
He’s about to cast that in a carefully phrased answer, when another group enters the club. It’s entirely made up of women, maybe five or six of them. All in their late twenties, maybe early thirties, and obviously set on having fun tonight as they storm the dance floor right away. One of them - a vivacious red-head - catches his eye almost immediately, even if he can only catch glimpses of her and mostly sees her back.
It’s the way she moves, he decides. So totally carefree and confident, like she knows she can move and turn heads if she just walks the right way. He’s totally forgotten about answering Mitchell, and the Colonel seems to have noticed that all of a sudden the noise and the people don’t seem to bother the Major anymore, anyway. His gaze is transfixed on the red-head, watching her every move, seeing her throw her hair, bending her head… and then she suddenly turns around to show him her profile and the crowd stays out of his sight long enough for him to realize that he knows this woman.
It’s one of the Marines that used to serve on Atlantis, a while back… he recalls that she had something going on with Carson Beckett, before they called it quits and she went back to Earth. Laura Cadman, that’s her name. He never really noticed her, what with only seeing her in service attire and maybe once or twice in slacks during some informal get-togethers. But here… with the skimpy top and the tight jeans and her hair down and the discreet make-up… She’s dancing with her friends, now and then skimming on flirting with one of the guys on the dance floor next to her, and suddenly he finds himself wishing he wasn’t such an abysmal dancer and had the courage to simply walk up to her and do a little more than only flirting a little.
Alright. Wait. What did he just think? He’s a mature man of 35, not some 16-year-old with raging hormones. Forcing himself to turn away from the enticing sight of Laura Cadman dancing he walks over to the bar. He really needs something to drink now, and not only because his mouth had gone all dry during those last few minutes of openly staring at a woman that used to be his subordinate.
But sitting there and waiting for his drink and not turning around again and searching the crowd for her takes much more effort than he anticipated. So much, in fact, that he doesn’t register a familiar figure appearing beside him at first, what with all his concentration on looking anywhere but the dance floor. Then his gaze strays a little to his left and… it nearly knocks him off his chair. There, just a few inches away from him the object of his desire is leaning against the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.
Do something, he thinks. Be cool, be suave, be a gentleman… but all he does is stare at her and drink in the slightly unnerved tapping of her fingers on the counter, the little wet wisps of her hair clinging to her neck, her tongue darting out to lick her lip… “Hey, is that guy deaf or somethi… Major Lorne? What the hell are you doing here?” Oh God. She didn’t just speak to him, right? No. Yes. No. Say something, you idiot.
Staring at you and feeling a little like a sick old man, would be a good answer. On second thought… maybe not. “Actually… I’m not quite sure about that myself.”
Something must have been funny because her mouth curls up in a smile. “What, you just got beamed here?” Puddle of goo. That’s what his brain must have turned into. Just at the sight of Laura Cadman smiling at him with cheeks still a little flushed from dancing. Just like that.
“More like got shanghaied here.” That turns the smile into a full-out grin.
“Major Hennings?” Whoa, good thing he’s already sitting because if he wasn’t… his knees would have simply folded beneath him.
“Colonel Mitchell. Simply can’t say no to a guy two ranks your senior.” It’s amazing. That he isn’t already reduced to a stammering idiot, that is. By now, she sat down beside him, with her knee touching his now and then, and he could swear she’s doing it intentionally.
“So… enjoy it here, Major?” He wants to quip something witty back, but… then his gaze falls on her cleavage, if only for a second, but that’s already enough.
“Yes.” That earns him a light slap on the arm.
“Hey, my eyes are up here!” God, he’s making such a fool of himself. That’s the first time a woman ever said that to him, and he feels himself going beet-red in the face… and even redder when she’s suddenly laughing. “I was joking. I’m surrounded by flyboys who think they are God’s gift to women all the time… Really, I can take a little accidental staring.” Yeah, well… would have been okay, if that actually was accidentally.
“I wasn’t…” But she doesn’t let him finish his sentence, only gives him a look saying ‘Yeah, sure, and I’m the Commander-in-Chief.’
“Course not. Oh, hey, care for a little dancing? I hear you flyboys are a breeze as dancers.” Other flyboys maybe, but surely not him. At least not this kind of dancing.
“Actually, I’m not…” Right in that moment, a new tune starts and she grabs his hand. So totally caught off-guard by this, he lets himself be dragged up by her.
“Ladies’ choice, sir. Tonight I’ll call the shots.” Well… considering it means that he is the one she chose - instead of all the daring young heroes here she could have chosen - it’s not that bad not to be the one in the lead, just for once.
“Alright… lead the way, Lieutenant.” She grins again, and the grip of her hand around his tightens just a little more.
“With pleasure, Major.” Mh. Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.