Stargate: Atlantis Parrish/Lorne
Another smut table entry. Unbeta'd as usual. All mistakes are mine, and I breed them in a pen out back.
Pairing: Lorne / Parrish
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Words: 1038
Prompt: "Fluff"
FLUFF
Lorne dropped into a defensive crouch, feeling silly for doing so, but unable to decide exactly how to proceed. If he had to tackle the young botanist to the ground, he would.
David buried his face against the tiny, fluffy ball of plant matter, his eyes feral and dark against the snowy white plumes. The Marines had been called in a good hour ago, after a new shipment of exotic plant matter had been delivered to the botany labs. Quarantine had been in place, the crates hermetically sealed until the botanists in hazmat suits could decide whether the plants were any threat to base security. He wasn't certain on the details--a broken seal, some kind of accident. All he knows is that he has a once-mild botanist kneeling on the floor in front of him, a ball of fluff reminiscent of a dandelion poof clutched under his chin as if he's protecting it.
"look, Doc..you gotta listen to me, ok? We don't know what that thing's doing to you...you've got to let me have it...we have to get it back into quarantine and you to the infirmary."
"no" growled the botanist, showing teeth for Christ's sake...and why did he always get attatched to the crazy scientists?
"no, you'll hurt him, and he wants me, only me, I have to take care of him...." The little poofball shuddered in David's arms in what Lorne was pretty sure was a taunting way--perhaps "ha--he likes me more than you....all I had to do was look soft and harmless." From the tiny rivulet of blood running down the inside of Parrish's arm, it seemed clear harmless wasn't in the thing's repetoire.
"ok..ok, ok" he murmured softly, as much to himself as to Parrish, though his hand was held out in placating gesture to the crouching botanist. He'd been Parrish's guardian, offbase and on for more than a year--they'd sat through long trade negotiatins and long ritualistic dances and even longer briefings and debriefings and lectures about protocol and quarintine and how best to keep a scientist safe. Parrish was his pal, his ward, and moreso lately, more than he'd like to dwell on...his..companion of sorts, to put things bluntly. Though as a Major in the United States Marine Corps, having too close a relationship with any civvie, most especially a male one was frowned upon. (Semper Fi, bitches, and best not sully the corps name, son, or you'll have a whole fuckin' platoon run you right from the Shores of Tripoli and into the fuckin' ocean where you'll die a drowned and disowned sonofabitch.) The Corps was nothing if not an unforgiving taskmaster.
If this didn't work, he'd have to call in the med team...have them shoot Parrish with those damned tranq darts they seemed to want to wave at every person on-base that got a little punchy. Rumour had it the infirmary had put together it's own sniper division, the better to keep tabs on wayward Marines. He couldn't stand the thought of his scientist shot at and brought to his knees, familiar pale eyes growing dark with confusion as the drug overtook him. Anyway, no telling howthe fluffball might interact with the tranq. No. This had to work.
"I see he wants you, and who wouldn't? You're a very nice guy, David--" he glanced around once, assuring himself that none of his men were hanging too close. He leaned forward over one knee and extended his hand, palm-up, the universal sign for "don't go off now, crazy alien-posessed botanist". Parrish curled tighter around the little puffthing, shedding little bits of fluff as he clenched it tightly in his arms. It shuddered again, and the brief splash of blood from the botanists' arm painted the underside of the thing pink--making it finally look a bit more....diabolical. The wicked claw the puff's plumes disguised was proof enough David needed to be talked out of the thing's presence--and fast.
"but I want you too....what if I want you for my own? I bet I'll be nicer to you that it....he's being."
That seemed to startle Parrish, which was good, and he tipped his head to the side, lips pursed as if he was about to speak. Another twitch from the dandelion from hell, though, and David recoiled, shaking his head so hard tufts of hair popped up at all angles, making his head resemble the fluffball. "no...no no, his. His. mine."
Lorne creeped forward a few inches, his fingers nearly touching Parrish's bent knee.
"could be mine...all mine, and I'd take care of you...he doesn't want you, not like I do. Come with me."
The placating hand turned itself, became beckoning fingers, just waiting for David to touch them.
The botanist stared down at the workworn, calloused, brown fingers extended toward him, eyes flickering shut for a moment, pupils growing then shrinking as the puffball vibrated in his arms. "want to..." he whispered finally, prying his uninjured arm from around the viciously cute plant and shifting it, as if ready to reach out. The poofball let loose a quiet clicking sound, and David tensed, then looked Lorne right in the eye, lucid for the first time in over an hour. "want to, please.....he hurts me."
Lorne nodded mutely, and let his fingers brush Parrish's, eyes flicking from startled blue to the now-angry puff and back again. David's hand slid against his, palm to palm, and the puffball shivered, then dropped to the ground, trailing spatters of the Botanist's blood along the floor. The puncture wound was relatively small, but it would need bandaging. Parrish winced and let out a shaking breath, body tipping forward until Lorne had to catch him before he toppled to the floor. He wrapped one large hand around the botanist's smaller forearm and squeezed tightly, applying pressure to the wound. David lolled his head against Lorne's lap and looked up with glazed eyes. "yours now.." he whispered with a smile, and those startling blue eyes slipped closed.
"always have been.." Lorne whispered, and tapped his comm to call the medteams in.
Pairing: Lorne / Parrish
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Words: 1038
Prompt: "Fluff"
FLUFF
Lorne dropped into a defensive crouch, feeling silly for doing so, but unable to decide exactly how to proceed. If he had to tackle the young botanist to the ground, he would.
David buried his face against the tiny, fluffy ball of plant matter, his eyes feral and dark against the snowy white plumes. The Marines had been called in a good hour ago, after a new shipment of exotic plant matter had been delivered to the botany labs. Quarantine had been in place, the crates hermetically sealed until the botanists in hazmat suits could decide whether the plants were any threat to base security. He wasn't certain on the details--a broken seal, some kind of accident. All he knows is that he has a once-mild botanist kneeling on the floor in front of him, a ball of fluff reminiscent of a dandelion poof clutched under his chin as if he's protecting it.
"look, Doc..you gotta listen to me, ok? We don't know what that thing's doing to you...you've got to let me have it...we have to get it back into quarantine and you to the infirmary."
"no" growled the botanist, showing teeth for Christ's sake...and why did he always get attatched to the crazy scientists?
"no, you'll hurt him, and he wants me, only me, I have to take care of him...." The little poofball shuddered in David's arms in what Lorne was pretty sure was a taunting way--perhaps "ha--he likes me more than you....all I had to do was look soft and harmless." From the tiny rivulet of blood running down the inside of Parrish's arm, it seemed clear harmless wasn't in the thing's repetoire.
"ok..ok, ok" he murmured softly, as much to himself as to Parrish, though his hand was held out in placating gesture to the crouching botanist. He'd been Parrish's guardian, offbase and on for more than a year--they'd sat through long trade negotiatins and long ritualistic dances and even longer briefings and debriefings and lectures about protocol and quarintine and how best to keep a scientist safe. Parrish was his pal, his ward, and moreso lately, more than he'd like to dwell on...his..companion of sorts, to put things bluntly. Though as a Major in the United States Marine Corps, having too close a relationship with any civvie, most especially a male one was frowned upon. (Semper Fi, bitches, and best not sully the corps name, son, or you'll have a whole fuckin' platoon run you right from the Shores of Tripoli and into the fuckin' ocean where you'll die a drowned and disowned sonofabitch.) The Corps was nothing if not an unforgiving taskmaster.
If this didn't work, he'd have to call in the med team...have them shoot Parrish with those damned tranq darts they seemed to want to wave at every person on-base that got a little punchy. Rumour had it the infirmary had put together it's own sniper division, the better to keep tabs on wayward Marines. He couldn't stand the thought of his scientist shot at and brought to his knees, familiar pale eyes growing dark with confusion as the drug overtook him. Anyway, no telling howthe fluffball might interact with the tranq. No. This had to work.
"I see he wants you, and who wouldn't? You're a very nice guy, David--" he glanced around once, assuring himself that none of his men were hanging too close. He leaned forward over one knee and extended his hand, palm-up, the universal sign for "don't go off now, crazy alien-posessed botanist". Parrish curled tighter around the little puffthing, shedding little bits of fluff as he clenched it tightly in his arms. It shuddered again, and the brief splash of blood from the botanists' arm painted the underside of the thing pink--making it finally look a bit more....diabolical. The wicked claw the puff's plumes disguised was proof enough David needed to be talked out of the thing's presence--and fast.
"but I want you too....what if I want you for my own? I bet I'll be nicer to you that it....he's being."
That seemed to startle Parrish, which was good, and he tipped his head to the side, lips pursed as if he was about to speak. Another twitch from the dandelion from hell, though, and David recoiled, shaking his head so hard tufts of hair popped up at all angles, making his head resemble the fluffball. "no...no no, his. His. mine."
Lorne creeped forward a few inches, his fingers nearly touching Parrish's bent knee.
"could be mine...all mine, and I'd take care of you...he doesn't want you, not like I do. Come with me."
The placating hand turned itself, became beckoning fingers, just waiting for David to touch them.
The botanist stared down at the workworn, calloused, brown fingers extended toward him, eyes flickering shut for a moment, pupils growing then shrinking as the puffball vibrated in his arms. "want to..." he whispered finally, prying his uninjured arm from around the viciously cute plant and shifting it, as if ready to reach out. The poofball let loose a quiet clicking sound, and David tensed, then looked Lorne right in the eye, lucid for the first time in over an hour. "want to, please.....he hurts me."
Lorne nodded mutely, and let his fingers brush Parrish's, eyes flicking from startled blue to the now-angry puff and back again. David's hand slid against his, palm to palm, and the puffball shivered, then dropped to the ground, trailing spatters of the Botanist's blood along the floor. The puncture wound was relatively small, but it would need bandaging. Parrish winced and let out a shaking breath, body tipping forward until Lorne had to catch him before he toppled to the floor. He wrapped one large hand around the botanist's smaller forearm and squeezed tightly, applying pressure to the wound. David lolled his head against Lorne's lap and looked up with glazed eyes. "yours now.." he whispered with a smile, and those startling blue eyes slipped closed.
"always have been.." Lorne whispered, and tapped his comm to call the medteams in.