SGA: Carson Beckett/Laura Cadman, Five Rooms - Mess
Title: Spatial Perception
Author: spazzula
Theme: Five Rooms - Mess
Pairing: Carson Beckett/Laura Cadman
Rating: PG
Summary: I found Carson already in the mess, surrounded by reports and medical journals, laptop on the table in front of him, and a cup of his favorite tea growing colder by the minute...
A/N: Future-ficlet, sometime well into season three.
Spatial Perception : Mess
***
I blame Katie Brown entirely.
If she hadn't insisted on telling me about the botany department's successes with approximating Earth foods with Pegasus galaxy plants, I never would've gotten a craving for a peanut butter sandwich. Despite the fact that Atlantean 'peanut butter' tasted more like hazelnuts than peanuts, but that's beside the point.
Come to think of it, the mess hall staff should share a bit of the blame. They insist on leaving the mess open all night for industrious individuals who need a late caffeine fix, or a midnight snack.
And Carson is probably just as guilty, really, since he beat me there. I found him already in the mess, surrounded by reports and medical journals, laptop on the table in front of him, and a cup of his favorite tea growing colder by the minute.
So really, it's not my fault that I found myself perched on Carson's lap, feeding him bits of my not-quite-peanut-butter sandwich, and trying to distract him from his work at 3am.
"Your face will stick like that," I told him solemnly, tearing off another bite as he squinted at his laptop.
"Too late, lass," he replied, not even looking at me.
"You're going to ruin your eyesight," I added.
"That’s what optometry is for, love," he countered.
"You've got an optometrist on staff?" I asked.
"No, but I'm sure I could pick up another hobby. Genetics research, ER medicine, intergalactic pest control - the nurses mentioned we need a gynecologist-"
"I don't think so," I broke in, shooting him a disapproving look. He grinned slightly, but didn't stop reading whatever was so important on his screen.
"If you ruin your eyesight, you'll have to get glasses," I continued, ignoring his teasing. "I bet it'd be cute."
"Cute?" Carson echoed, and actually shot me a startled look at that.
I smiled innocently. "Wire-frames. The kind that won't stay on your nose, so you have to keep pushing them back, like Radek." I tapped one finger teasingly on his nose. "Emphasize those big blue eyes."
"I don't need glasses yet, love," Carson said, amused.
"Not yet," I told him. "Keep squinting at your laptop, though, and ignoring me completely. Payback's a bitch, Beckett."
"You're in my lap, Laura," Carson pointed out. "And you keep feeding me that - what is that, anyway?"
"Pseudo-peanut-butter on wheat," I said smugly, and held up another bite of my sandwich for him. "And I'm sharing. Demonstrating my affection through food. Quit complaining."
"Oh, I'm not complaining - share away," Carson protested. I popped the bite into his mouth, and he nipped lightly at my fingers, wrapped his arms around my waist, and settled me against his shoulder. "Give me half an hour to finish this and then you can distract me all you like," he whispered.
"Promise?"
"Aye, promise," Carson chuckled. "Just not in the middle of the mess, all right?"
"Deal," I agreed happily. "The tables are too hard, anyway."
I really shouldn't enjoy making him blush like that.
Author: spazzula
Theme: Five Rooms - Mess
Pairing: Carson Beckett/Laura Cadman
Rating: PG
Summary: I found Carson already in the mess, surrounded by reports and medical journals, laptop on the table in front of him, and a cup of his favorite tea growing colder by the minute...
A/N: Future-ficlet, sometime well into season three.
Spatial Perception : Mess
***
I blame Katie Brown entirely.
If she hadn't insisted on telling me about the botany department's successes with approximating Earth foods with Pegasus galaxy plants, I never would've gotten a craving for a peanut butter sandwich. Despite the fact that Atlantean 'peanut butter' tasted more like hazelnuts than peanuts, but that's beside the point.
Come to think of it, the mess hall staff should share a bit of the blame. They insist on leaving the mess open all night for industrious individuals who need a late caffeine fix, or a midnight snack.
And Carson is probably just as guilty, really, since he beat me there. I found him already in the mess, surrounded by reports and medical journals, laptop on the table in front of him, and a cup of his favorite tea growing colder by the minute.
So really, it's not my fault that I found myself perched on Carson's lap, feeding him bits of my not-quite-peanut-butter sandwich, and trying to distract him from his work at 3am.
"Your face will stick like that," I told him solemnly, tearing off another bite as he squinted at his laptop.
"Too late, lass," he replied, not even looking at me.
"You're going to ruin your eyesight," I added.
"That’s what optometry is for, love," he countered.
"You've got an optometrist on staff?" I asked.
"No, but I'm sure I could pick up another hobby. Genetics research, ER medicine, intergalactic pest control - the nurses mentioned we need a gynecologist-"
"I don't think so," I broke in, shooting him a disapproving look. He grinned slightly, but didn't stop reading whatever was so important on his screen.
"If you ruin your eyesight, you'll have to get glasses," I continued, ignoring his teasing. "I bet it'd be cute."
"Cute?" Carson echoed, and actually shot me a startled look at that.
I smiled innocently. "Wire-frames. The kind that won't stay on your nose, so you have to keep pushing them back, like Radek." I tapped one finger teasingly on his nose. "Emphasize those big blue eyes."
"I don't need glasses yet, love," Carson said, amused.
"Not yet," I told him. "Keep squinting at your laptop, though, and ignoring me completely. Payback's a bitch, Beckett."
"You're in my lap, Laura," Carson pointed out. "And you keep feeding me that - what is that, anyway?"
"Pseudo-peanut-butter on wheat," I said smugly, and held up another bite of my sandwich for him. "And I'm sharing. Demonstrating my affection through food. Quit complaining."
"Oh, I'm not complaining - share away," Carson protested. I popped the bite into his mouth, and he nipped lightly at my fingers, wrapped his arms around my waist, and settled me against his shoulder. "Give me half an hour to finish this and then you can distract me all you like," he whispered.
"Promise?"
"Aye, promise," Carson chuckled. "Just not in the middle of the mess, all right?"
"Deal," I agreed happily. "The tables are too hard, anyway."
I really shouldn't enjoy making him blush like that.