SGA Fiction: Taking Inventory (Gen, G)
Title: Taking Inventory (G)
Rating: G
Category: Gen
Length: 225 words
Notes: A ficlet written for berlinghoff79's Inventory Day Comment Fest. Go check out the other awesome responses. :-)
Summary: It started as necessity but has become an honor and a privilege...
It started as a necessity, during their first nights in the city, when everything was brand new and unknown. They didn't have a ZPM then, didn't know about the internal monitors, hadn't yet initialized the city's comm system. It was duty that has become honor, responsibility transformed into privilege.
Sometimes his hand hesitates over a door sensor, forgetting for a heartbeat that this room or that is empty. Sometimes he lingers outside those doors, hope pitted against certainty, and is tempted, just for a moment, with the crazy thought that the past is a nightmare, that this room is still occupied with sleeping potential. If he opens it, maybe this time, just maybe...
Ruthless, he will always shake off such fancy, push himself onward to the next door, forcing himself to go past what has been lost to what is still there. And the next door will open silently at his urging, revealing a quiescent form. A brief glance, a mark on his mental checklist, and he moves on. And on. And on. Miles to go...
And always, he will cross paths with his counterpart, blue eyes meeting hazel, both silent. And they will pass with only a nod of acknowledgement. All is well.
There is still much left unknown in the City of the Ancients, but its people are always accounted for, every night.
End
Rating: G
Category: Gen
Length: 225 words
Notes: A ficlet written for berlinghoff79's Inventory Day Comment Fest. Go check out the other awesome responses. :-)
Summary: It started as necessity but has become an honor and a privilege...
It started as a necessity, during their first nights in the city, when everything was brand new and unknown. They didn't have a ZPM then, didn't know about the internal monitors, hadn't yet initialized the city's comm system. It was duty that has become honor, responsibility transformed into privilege.
Sometimes his hand hesitates over a door sensor, forgetting for a heartbeat that this room or that is empty. Sometimes he lingers outside those doors, hope pitted against certainty, and is tempted, just for a moment, with the crazy thought that the past is a nightmare, that this room is still occupied with sleeping potential. If he opens it, maybe this time, just maybe...
Ruthless, he will always shake off such fancy, push himself onward to the next door, forcing himself to go past what has been lost to what is still there. And the next door will open silently at his urging, revealing a quiescent form. A brief glance, a mark on his mental checklist, and he moves on. And on. And on. Miles to go...
And always, he will cross paths with his counterpart, blue eyes meeting hazel, both silent. And they will pass with only a nod of acknowledgement. All is well.
There is still much left unknown in the City of the Ancients, but its people are always accounted for, every night.
End