Day Three: (Romantic) Movie Week (Sabrina, SGA) by miriel
Title: Aliens Made Them Do It. No, Really.
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis (SGA)
Pairing: Lorne/Novak. Sheppard/McKay. Sheppard/Novak.
Rating: PG-ish
Word Count: 3,061
A/N: Right. So there's kind of a story behind this fic. In that I tried writing a ripped-from-the-movie fic, and it was going great. Except it wanted to be close to fifteen thousand words and was turning into a massive Sheppard/McKay, Lorne/Novak, Sheppard/Novak, Caldwell/Weir, Dex/Weir thing, and I was never going to get it done in time. So this was written in a day, but turned out better than I feared. At first glance it's hard to spot the movie correlation, but I swear that this comes directly from one of the plot points/motivations in Sabrina. I just took the situation and ran with it instead of being blow-by-blow movie. Thanks to shrewreader for her witticism, and everyone else who bothered to hand-hold me through the meltdown this particular project caused me. Archive away.
Disclaimer: I'm just playing, and my toys are so uncooperative! Why would I want to keep them??
Summary: Truth. Right. ‘Gee, Rodney, my 2IC punched me out because I was molesting one of the redheads on your staff. Don’t get mad, even though you think I have a thing for redheads because of the Ancient-we-may-never-name, because it wasn’t my fault. Aliens made us do it.’ Yeah, that didn’t even sound plausible in his head.
“What did you give them?”
“I assure you, it is harmless.”
“What is it?”
“Your friends participated in our spring ritual to bring luck; part of the ritual is drinking from the sacred chalice. I assure you that the effects of the wine are mild; they will wear off within a few days.”
Lindsey shifted, groaning at the headache pounding in her temples. The voices quieted, and someone familiar - Major Lorne, maybe? - patted her shoulder and said “I’ll be right back, Doctor Novak. Get some more sleep.”
Satisfied that she was safe (after all, the major had been there), Lindsey rolled over and went back to sleep.
* * *
Lindsey woke sometime later, and found herself alone. The headache had improved, but not by much. God, she hadn’t felt like this since her sister had taken her out for tequila shots in celebration of her PhD. Moving slowly, she sat up and opened her eyes. The room was clean, with a small fire in the fireplace providing the only light; that meant she was still on M9R-whatever it was with their evil evil ceremonial wine. Just the thought of the sweet liquor made her stomach heave, and it was all she could do to make it to the local trash-can-equivalent next to the door before she lost whatever it was she’d eaten before passing out.
When her body decided that there was nothing left to expel, she slumped against the wall in relief. A low moan caused her to look up, and she realized that she wasn’t so alone after all. There was a second bed in the room, upon which Colonel Sheppard was now struggling to a sitting position. “Ugh. What happened?”
She stood shakily, and made her way to her own bed. “Um, I think it was the ceremonial wine.” She made a face. “I’m never drinking off-world again. I’m never going off-world again.”
“That’s what Zelenka says. Every time.” Sheppard chuckled, then groaned as it apparently set off his headache. “He might have a point.”
She grabbed the bucket conveniently placed next to her bed (why hadn’t she noticed it when she’d needed it? Why?), and passed it over. He took it gratefully, and a moment later was leaning over the bed, turning away and rather violently emptying his stomach. She couldn’t help noticing how good he looked, even while puking his guts up. Now she understood what all the other scientists were always gossiping about.
Her contemplation was disrupted by the opening of the door, and Major Lorne poked his head in. “Oh, good; you’re awake.” She glared, and was reasonably certain Sheppard was doing the same. He’d stopped heaving, anyway. “Or, not so good. Right.” Lorne stepped into the room, and set a tray of steaming mugs onto the table between the two beds. “They said this would help, sir. Doctor Beckett wants to see you, so we’ve been ordered back to the city as soon as you’re mobile.”
Lindsey nodded as she began sipping at her tea. “This had better be some really awesome bean we just traded for.”
She heard Sheppard snicker beside her. “Amen.”
* * *
The ceremonial wine turned out to be just that - fermented grapes. Everyone let out a sigh of relief that evil alien booze #83 wasn’t actually toxic, and life returned to normal in Atlantis. At least until Lorne walked into the armory two days later and found his commanding officer in a heated embrace with one of the science staff. That in and of itself wouldn’t have set off warning bells - Lorne was in that elite portion of Atlantis personnel who knew for a fact (as opposed to simply having placed a bet through Chuck) that McKay & Sheppard were fucking like bunnies in various areas of the city in the middle of the night. The problem was that the scientist in question was Lindsey Novak.
In the time it took Lorne to open and close his mouth, he realized that it had to be the wine. Regardless of Sheppard’s disregard for consequences (had the guy ever heard of inventory? It was amazing the city hadn’t fallen into the sea before Lorne had arrived. Seriously), Novak didn’t strike him as a woman with a death wish.
He cleared his throat. “Um, sir?”
Sheppard pulled away enough to glare; Novak just looked dazed and debauched. “Lorne, I’m a little busy now.”
“Sir, I don’t mean to intrude, but are you sure this is a good idea?” He should be running. He should be running back to his quarters and filing a request for transfer. McKay was going to blow up the city if he ever found out, and he’d probably blame Lorne for not knowing the wine would do this. Lorne valued his heated shower, but he valued a stable and sane CO a lot more. Lorne blamed Sheppard for his newly discovered need to go out on a limb to do the right thing. “This is a public location, sir…”
Sheppard ignored him, and turned back to nuzzle at Novak’s neck. It finally seemed to register that Lorne was there, and Lindsey pushed away with a rather undignified squeak, blushing furiously. Sheppard didn’t seem to heed her reaction, and just switched to suck on the other side of her neck in a disturbingly vampiric fashion. Lorne gave up the reasonable approach. He took a deep breath and told himself he was doing this for the good of the city. “Colonel Sheppard.”
Sheppard turned to face him. “What??”
Lorne threw a punch. Sheppard went down. Novak blinked at him, and promptly passed out. Lorne sighed, and knelt to gather her into his arms and get her to the infirmary, telling himself that it was better for everyone if Sheppard just slept it off. As the door slid open, he shifted Novak so he could tap his earpiece. “Doctor Weir, I think we have a problem. I have a few ideas, if you can meet me in the infirmary …”
* * *
“Ow.”
John woke up in the infirmary, disoriented and feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. Doctor Stepanik informed him that he’d managed to break his nose (again), passed him an ice pack, and left with a disgusted expression. Elizabeth came in a moment later, and explained events as she understood them, emphasizing how sorry the major was for breaking his nose. She left him in peace to think about what had happened, with an order to take the day off and see if things were better now that Lindsey was away from the city.
It wasn’t like he’d never been affected by alien influences, or even that he’d never been under the influence of alien pheromones. He’d just never been so involved that he’d needed someone to punch him to snap him out of it. Rodney was going to kill him. Oh. Right. Rodney. Said scientist cleared his throat loudly. “What have you done now?”
John looked up cautiously. “Accident?”
Rodney scowled. “An accident?? How do you accidentally break your nose?”
“I tripped. In the armory. Inventory, you know. Paperwork.” He bit back a wince; that had sounded way more credible in his head.
“You expect me to believe that??” Rodney crossed his arms and huffed. “You haven’t done paperwork since you stepped through the Stargate, unless it’s a mission report. Certainly not since you suckered Lorne into doing it. Try again, and the truth would be nice.”
Truth. Right. ‘Gee, Rodney, my 2IC punched me out because I was molesting one of the redheads on your staff. Don’t get mad, even though you think I have a thing for redheads because of the Ancient we never mention, because it wasn’t my fault. Aliens made us do it.’ Yeah, that didn’t even sound plausible in his head, and it was the truth. “Right. Practice with Ronon. Things got a little out of hand, he nailed me, and I sent him off to meditate off the guilt with Teyla. All better.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Honest.”
Rodney glared, but let it be. John knew he would be showering in the marines’ locker room for the rest of the week.
* * *
Lindsey was reasonably certain she’d been in the infirmary after watching Major Lorne punch Colonel Sheppard; she remembered distinct impressions of the smell of antiseptic and the prick of a needle. Except the infirmary had softer beds, and it didn’t vibrate, so possibly not. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, sitting up gingerly; at least this time she didn’t feel like throwing up. As she peered around, she realized she was in the back of a ‘Jumper. She stood, and wobbled to the front. Major Lorne was sitting comfortably in the pilot’s seat, but he was the only other occupant. “Major?”
He jumped, visibly startled. “Oh, you’re awake. Feeling better?”
She frowned, and slid into the co-pilot’s chair carefully while giving him a skeptical look. “I’m not sure. How did I get here?”
Lorne gave a dry laugh. “There was an…incident…in the armory, following which you passed out. I figured I’d wake you up when we arrived.”
She pressed herself further into the seat, and looked around for anything she might be able to use as a weapon in case this wasn’t as innocent as it sounded. “Right…Does anyone know we’re out here? Aside from, um, Colonel Sheppard. You did hit him, right? I didn’t imagine that?”
Lorne sighed. “It was for his own good, trust me. We’re coming up on our destination now. We’re on the far side of the continent. I found this place on a scouting run a while back, and Doctor Weir said I could snag someone in sciences for a few days to check it out with me. I grabbed you.”
“Oh. So they know we’re out here?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t have brought you if Doctor Stepanik hadn’t cleared you, after all.” He looked over, concerned. “You are feeling okay, right?”
“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.” She turned to stare out the view-screen. “We’re almost there?”
“Should be just about…there!” A spot on the screen lit up, blinking in a You are here! manner. The location was coastal, but the latitude was much further north than either Atlantis or the Athosian settlement. They set down a moment later, and he lowered the ramp before standing up and stretching. “Coming?”
“Um, yeah.”
* * *
Three days later, Lindsey came back from the beach to find Lorne loading up the jumper. “I thought we had a week?”
He looked up, and shook his head. “Got called back early. Doctor Beckett finally had a chance to look at your blood tests, and apparently there’s an anomaly they didn’t catch on the first screening. They want you back by this evening.” He paused, cocking his head to the side with a grin. “Weren’t you the one who moped for a day and a half about how you couldn’t get any of your work done out here? How the Daedalus was going to break down and fall out of the sky without you? What happened?”
She blushed. “So it’s possible that I needed the break. This place reminds me of home; it’s nice. We used to go out to the Cape every year, spend a few weeks away from everything. Thank you.”
Lorne bit his lip, and she frowned. “I, uh, have to admit to ulterior motives, Lindsey.”
She straightened unconsciously at his tone. In three days, she’d become much better at reading the man she used to think lived for the joy of completing Sheppard’s paperwork. She wasn’t going to like this. “What are you talking about?”
“When we visited M9R-332, you took part in a local ceremony. There was something in the wine that altered your body chemistry and skewed you and the colonel toward each other. Pheromones or something. I brought you out here because Sheppard’s involved with someone, pretty seriously. He’s a friend as well as my CO, and I didn’t want something to happen that you’d both regret. The town elder said the stuff would wear off in a week, so I thought if we could just keep the two of your apart it would, you know, work itself out.”
“So, what? Instead of locking me up you kidnapped me instead?” She was mad. She thought they’d bonded out here, formed a connection, and it was because he didn’t trust her not to sleep with Sheppard?? Yes, the colonel was attractive. Yes, it had been flattering, and she couldn’t deny carrying a tiny little torch. But she probably fell into the same class as Hermiod in the man’s eyes - sexless & good with a hyper-drive. “That’s insulting. You could have just explained things to me, and I would have avoided him. You think I’m that hard up that I’ll take someone who’s not in their right mind?”
“No, wait, Lindsey, that’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “We didn’t know how strong the compulsion would get, if it would get worse before it got better. And I…I wanted to protect you, too. The guilt that comes from breaking up someone else’s relationship, it never really goes away. I didn’t want you to have that hanging over your head for something you couldn’t control.”
“Oh.” She thought about that, tilting her head to the side to study him. It made a twisted kind of sense. Chauvinistic, but kind of sweet in its own way. Not that she was ever telling him that.
He shifted uncomfortably. “There is the possibility that I was under a touch of compulsion myself.” He scratched the back of his neck in a bad attempt at casual. “Doctor Beckett said the chemical affects everyone with the gene; the reaction’s just more prominent in the natural carriers.”
“So, what, you spent three nights in a coastal retreat with me because I smell weird?” He was staring rather intently at something just over her shoulder, so she took that as a maybe. She frowned, thoughts taking a sharp turn to the right. “Wait. Not to sound ungrateful, but if I’m all pheromonal or something shouldn’t you have been behaving more like Colonel Sheppard? You didn’t hit on me once.”
Lorne blushed. “I, erm…” She felt her eyebrows creep up, now more amused than pissed (although she was sure she’d be pissed again later. This was more than just insulting Wormhole X-Treme: Dimension X, and she’d refused to talk to him for a week after that little comment). He cleared his throat. “Listen, we need to get going. With the time-change, we’re going to be late if we’re not in the air within the hour.” He started toward the Ancient building they’d been staying in, clearly ending the conversation. She followed, breaking into a jog to keep up.
“Lorne. Lorne. EVAN!”
He stopped, and turned to glare at her. “I should never have told you that.”
“Don’t change the subject.” She crossed her arms.
He sighed, and continued at a more sedate pace. “If, and I do mean if, I were ever to drag you into my bed…I’d want you sane, and willing. That’s not a memory I’d want to file under ‘Alien Incidents’ and never think about again.” He waved the door open, and entered the building.
“Oh.” She stumbled on the threshold. “That’s, um, sweet.” She hiccupped. “I’m just going to, um, grab my stuff.” She gestured to the door. “Five minutes.”
* * *
Beckett was as good as his word; he had an injection ready and waiting in the jumper bay when they arrived. Sheppard was there as well, and he pulled Lindsey aside when Beckett had finished in order to apologize. He’d been incredibly contrite, and she’d returned his apology with one of her own; neither of them had been completely in their right minds in that armory, and she knew that.
Once Sheppard had been sent on his way, she looked around for Lorne, but he was long gone. Apparently he’d stayed just long enough to confirm that the inoculation had kicked in, and then disappeared down the hall toward the transporter.
* * *
The next day, he showed up at her temporary lab assignment with a bar of Hershey’s Cookies & Cream. “I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?”
“As long as it’s not too long.” She stood, powered down her tablet, and told Marshov that she was taking an early lunch. Lorne led her down the hallway to the nearby balcony. He walked to the railing and stared out at the ocean for long enough that she considered leaving again, but he had bought the time with chocolate. White chocolate, even. Finally, he let out an aggravated sigh and turned to face her.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
She blinked. “This makes everything better?”
“No, no, of course not. I’m not that naïve. I know that we’ve never really been friends, at least not before this week…I want to change that. This…weekend, or whatever you want to call it, it wasn’t just about the pheromones.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it as he struggled with the words. She stayed quiet, waiting to see where this was going. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to spend time with you, outside of off-world missions and Daedalus emergencies. Maybe even go on a date of some kind; maybe go back to that beach house. I meant what I said yesterday, Lindsey. You’re someone I think I’d want to remember.”
She nodded thoughtfully, tapping her chin with the candy bar. “Hmm. And if I say no?”
He shrugged, and shifted to look back over the horizon. “Then we go back to the occasional mission and the Wormhole X-Treme DX vs. Wormhole X-Treme debate. Are you saying no?”
She stepped up, leaning against the railing just beside him. “I’m saying maybe.” She nudged his shoulder. “Come on, it’s getting ready to rain and I’ve got calculations to finish. Bring more of these-“ she held up the Hershey bar “and we’ll talk about the possibilities.” She pushed off the railing and headed into the safety of the city as thunder rolled across the skies. She had no idea what she’d tell Lorne at their next meeting, but she had a feeling things would definitely be interesting.
~ Finis ~
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis (SGA)
Pairing: Lorne/Novak. Sheppard/McKay. Sheppard/Novak.
Rating: PG-ish
Word Count: 3,061
A/N: Right. So there's kind of a story behind this fic. In that I tried writing a ripped-from-the-movie fic, and it was going great. Except it wanted to be close to fifteen thousand words and was turning into a massive Sheppard/McKay, Lorne/Novak, Sheppard/Novak, Caldwell/Weir, Dex/Weir thing, and I was never going to get it done in time. So this was written in a day, but turned out better than I feared. At first glance it's hard to spot the movie correlation, but I swear that this comes directly from one of the plot points/motivations in Sabrina. I just took the situation and ran with it instead of being blow-by-blow movie. Thanks to shrewreader for her witticism, and everyone else who bothered to hand-hold me through the meltdown this particular project caused me. Archive away.
Disclaimer: I'm just playing, and my toys are so uncooperative! Why would I want to keep them??
Summary: Truth. Right. ‘Gee, Rodney, my 2IC punched me out because I was molesting one of the redheads on your staff. Don’t get mad, even though you think I have a thing for redheads because of the Ancient-we-may-never-name, because it wasn’t my fault. Aliens made us do it.’ Yeah, that didn’t even sound plausible in his head.
“What did you give them?”
“I assure you, it is harmless.”
“What is it?”
“Your friends participated in our spring ritual to bring luck; part of the ritual is drinking from the sacred chalice. I assure you that the effects of the wine are mild; they will wear off within a few days.”
Lindsey shifted, groaning at the headache pounding in her temples. The voices quieted, and someone familiar - Major Lorne, maybe? - patted her shoulder and said “I’ll be right back, Doctor Novak. Get some more sleep.”
Satisfied that she was safe (after all, the major had been there), Lindsey rolled over and went back to sleep.
* * *
Lindsey woke sometime later, and found herself alone. The headache had improved, but not by much. God, she hadn’t felt like this since her sister had taken her out for tequila shots in celebration of her PhD. Moving slowly, she sat up and opened her eyes. The room was clean, with a small fire in the fireplace providing the only light; that meant she was still on M9R-whatever it was with their evil evil ceremonial wine. Just the thought of the sweet liquor made her stomach heave, and it was all she could do to make it to the local trash-can-equivalent next to the door before she lost whatever it was she’d eaten before passing out.
When her body decided that there was nothing left to expel, she slumped against the wall in relief. A low moan caused her to look up, and she realized that she wasn’t so alone after all. There was a second bed in the room, upon which Colonel Sheppard was now struggling to a sitting position. “Ugh. What happened?”
She stood shakily, and made her way to her own bed. “Um, I think it was the ceremonial wine.” She made a face. “I’m never drinking off-world again. I’m never going off-world again.”
“That’s what Zelenka says. Every time.” Sheppard chuckled, then groaned as it apparently set off his headache. “He might have a point.”
She grabbed the bucket conveniently placed next to her bed (why hadn’t she noticed it when she’d needed it? Why?), and passed it over. He took it gratefully, and a moment later was leaning over the bed, turning away and rather violently emptying his stomach. She couldn’t help noticing how good he looked, even while puking his guts up. Now she understood what all the other scientists were always gossiping about.
Her contemplation was disrupted by the opening of the door, and Major Lorne poked his head in. “Oh, good; you’re awake.” She glared, and was reasonably certain Sheppard was doing the same. He’d stopped heaving, anyway. “Or, not so good. Right.” Lorne stepped into the room, and set a tray of steaming mugs onto the table between the two beds. “They said this would help, sir. Doctor Beckett wants to see you, so we’ve been ordered back to the city as soon as you’re mobile.”
Lindsey nodded as she began sipping at her tea. “This had better be some really awesome bean we just traded for.”
She heard Sheppard snicker beside her. “Amen.”
* * *
The ceremonial wine turned out to be just that - fermented grapes. Everyone let out a sigh of relief that evil alien booze #83 wasn’t actually toxic, and life returned to normal in Atlantis. At least until Lorne walked into the armory two days later and found his commanding officer in a heated embrace with one of the science staff. That in and of itself wouldn’t have set off warning bells - Lorne was in that elite portion of Atlantis personnel who knew for a fact (as opposed to simply having placed a bet through Chuck) that McKay & Sheppard were fucking like bunnies in various areas of the city in the middle of the night. The problem was that the scientist in question was Lindsey Novak.
In the time it took Lorne to open and close his mouth, he realized that it had to be the wine. Regardless of Sheppard’s disregard for consequences (had the guy ever heard of inventory? It was amazing the city hadn’t fallen into the sea before Lorne had arrived. Seriously), Novak didn’t strike him as a woman with a death wish.
He cleared his throat. “Um, sir?”
Sheppard pulled away enough to glare; Novak just looked dazed and debauched. “Lorne, I’m a little busy now.”
“Sir, I don’t mean to intrude, but are you sure this is a good idea?” He should be running. He should be running back to his quarters and filing a request for transfer. McKay was going to blow up the city if he ever found out, and he’d probably blame Lorne for not knowing the wine would do this. Lorne valued his heated shower, but he valued a stable and sane CO a lot more. Lorne blamed Sheppard for his newly discovered need to go out on a limb to do the right thing. “This is a public location, sir…”
Sheppard ignored him, and turned back to nuzzle at Novak’s neck. It finally seemed to register that Lorne was there, and Lindsey pushed away with a rather undignified squeak, blushing furiously. Sheppard didn’t seem to heed her reaction, and just switched to suck on the other side of her neck in a disturbingly vampiric fashion. Lorne gave up the reasonable approach. He took a deep breath and told himself he was doing this for the good of the city. “Colonel Sheppard.”
Sheppard turned to face him. “What??”
Lorne threw a punch. Sheppard went down. Novak blinked at him, and promptly passed out. Lorne sighed, and knelt to gather her into his arms and get her to the infirmary, telling himself that it was better for everyone if Sheppard just slept it off. As the door slid open, he shifted Novak so he could tap his earpiece. “Doctor Weir, I think we have a problem. I have a few ideas, if you can meet me in the infirmary …”
* * *
“Ow.”
John woke up in the infirmary, disoriented and feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. Doctor Stepanik informed him that he’d managed to break his nose (again), passed him an ice pack, and left with a disgusted expression. Elizabeth came in a moment later, and explained events as she understood them, emphasizing how sorry the major was for breaking his nose. She left him in peace to think about what had happened, with an order to take the day off and see if things were better now that Lindsey was away from the city.
It wasn’t like he’d never been affected by alien influences, or even that he’d never been under the influence of alien pheromones. He’d just never been so involved that he’d needed someone to punch him to snap him out of it. Rodney was going to kill him. Oh. Right. Rodney. Said scientist cleared his throat loudly. “What have you done now?”
John looked up cautiously. “Accident?”
Rodney scowled. “An accident?? How do you accidentally break your nose?”
“I tripped. In the armory. Inventory, you know. Paperwork.” He bit back a wince; that had sounded way more credible in his head.
“You expect me to believe that??” Rodney crossed his arms and huffed. “You haven’t done paperwork since you stepped through the Stargate, unless it’s a mission report. Certainly not since you suckered Lorne into doing it. Try again, and the truth would be nice.”
Truth. Right. ‘Gee, Rodney, my 2IC punched me out because I was molesting one of the redheads on your staff. Don’t get mad, even though you think I have a thing for redheads because of the Ancient we never mention, because it wasn’t my fault. Aliens made us do it.’ Yeah, that didn’t even sound plausible in his head, and it was the truth. “Right. Practice with Ronon. Things got a little out of hand, he nailed me, and I sent him off to meditate off the guilt with Teyla. All better.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Honest.”
Rodney glared, but let it be. John knew he would be showering in the marines’ locker room for the rest of the week.
* * *
Lindsey was reasonably certain she’d been in the infirmary after watching Major Lorne punch Colonel Sheppard; she remembered distinct impressions of the smell of antiseptic and the prick of a needle. Except the infirmary had softer beds, and it didn’t vibrate, so possibly not. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, sitting up gingerly; at least this time she didn’t feel like throwing up. As she peered around, she realized she was in the back of a ‘Jumper. She stood, and wobbled to the front. Major Lorne was sitting comfortably in the pilot’s seat, but he was the only other occupant. “Major?”
He jumped, visibly startled. “Oh, you’re awake. Feeling better?”
She frowned, and slid into the co-pilot’s chair carefully while giving him a skeptical look. “I’m not sure. How did I get here?”
Lorne gave a dry laugh. “There was an…incident…in the armory, following which you passed out. I figured I’d wake you up when we arrived.”
She pressed herself further into the seat, and looked around for anything she might be able to use as a weapon in case this wasn’t as innocent as it sounded. “Right…Does anyone know we’re out here? Aside from, um, Colonel Sheppard. You did hit him, right? I didn’t imagine that?”
Lorne sighed. “It was for his own good, trust me. We’re coming up on our destination now. We’re on the far side of the continent. I found this place on a scouting run a while back, and Doctor Weir said I could snag someone in sciences for a few days to check it out with me. I grabbed you.”
“Oh. So they know we’re out here?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t have brought you if Doctor Stepanik hadn’t cleared you, after all.” He looked over, concerned. “You are feeling okay, right?”
“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.” She turned to stare out the view-screen. “We’re almost there?”
“Should be just about…there!” A spot on the screen lit up, blinking in a You are here! manner. The location was coastal, but the latitude was much further north than either Atlantis or the Athosian settlement. They set down a moment later, and he lowered the ramp before standing up and stretching. “Coming?”
“Um, yeah.”
* * *
Three days later, Lindsey came back from the beach to find Lorne loading up the jumper. “I thought we had a week?”
He looked up, and shook his head. “Got called back early. Doctor Beckett finally had a chance to look at your blood tests, and apparently there’s an anomaly they didn’t catch on the first screening. They want you back by this evening.” He paused, cocking his head to the side with a grin. “Weren’t you the one who moped for a day and a half about how you couldn’t get any of your work done out here? How the Daedalus was going to break down and fall out of the sky without you? What happened?”
She blushed. “So it’s possible that I needed the break. This place reminds me of home; it’s nice. We used to go out to the Cape every year, spend a few weeks away from everything. Thank you.”
Lorne bit his lip, and she frowned. “I, uh, have to admit to ulterior motives, Lindsey.”
She straightened unconsciously at his tone. In three days, she’d become much better at reading the man she used to think lived for the joy of completing Sheppard’s paperwork. She wasn’t going to like this. “What are you talking about?”
“When we visited M9R-332, you took part in a local ceremony. There was something in the wine that altered your body chemistry and skewed you and the colonel toward each other. Pheromones or something. I brought you out here because Sheppard’s involved with someone, pretty seriously. He’s a friend as well as my CO, and I didn’t want something to happen that you’d both regret. The town elder said the stuff would wear off in a week, so I thought if we could just keep the two of your apart it would, you know, work itself out.”
“So, what? Instead of locking me up you kidnapped me instead?” She was mad. She thought they’d bonded out here, formed a connection, and it was because he didn’t trust her not to sleep with Sheppard?? Yes, the colonel was attractive. Yes, it had been flattering, and she couldn’t deny carrying a tiny little torch. But she probably fell into the same class as Hermiod in the man’s eyes - sexless & good with a hyper-drive. “That’s insulting. You could have just explained things to me, and I would have avoided him. You think I’m that hard up that I’ll take someone who’s not in their right mind?”
“No, wait, Lindsey, that’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “We didn’t know how strong the compulsion would get, if it would get worse before it got better. And I…I wanted to protect you, too. The guilt that comes from breaking up someone else’s relationship, it never really goes away. I didn’t want you to have that hanging over your head for something you couldn’t control.”
“Oh.” She thought about that, tilting her head to the side to study him. It made a twisted kind of sense. Chauvinistic, but kind of sweet in its own way. Not that she was ever telling him that.
He shifted uncomfortably. “There is the possibility that I was under a touch of compulsion myself.” He scratched the back of his neck in a bad attempt at casual. “Doctor Beckett said the chemical affects everyone with the gene; the reaction’s just more prominent in the natural carriers.”
“So, what, you spent three nights in a coastal retreat with me because I smell weird?” He was staring rather intently at something just over her shoulder, so she took that as a maybe. She frowned, thoughts taking a sharp turn to the right. “Wait. Not to sound ungrateful, but if I’m all pheromonal or something shouldn’t you have been behaving more like Colonel Sheppard? You didn’t hit on me once.”
Lorne blushed. “I, erm…” She felt her eyebrows creep up, now more amused than pissed (although she was sure she’d be pissed again later. This was more than just insulting Wormhole X-Treme: Dimension X, and she’d refused to talk to him for a week after that little comment). He cleared his throat. “Listen, we need to get going. With the time-change, we’re going to be late if we’re not in the air within the hour.” He started toward the Ancient building they’d been staying in, clearly ending the conversation. She followed, breaking into a jog to keep up.
“Lorne. Lorne. EVAN!”
He stopped, and turned to glare at her. “I should never have told you that.”
“Don’t change the subject.” She crossed her arms.
He sighed, and continued at a more sedate pace. “If, and I do mean if, I were ever to drag you into my bed…I’d want you sane, and willing. That’s not a memory I’d want to file under ‘Alien Incidents’ and never think about again.” He waved the door open, and entered the building.
“Oh.” She stumbled on the threshold. “That’s, um, sweet.” She hiccupped. “I’m just going to, um, grab my stuff.” She gestured to the door. “Five minutes.”
* * *
Beckett was as good as his word; he had an injection ready and waiting in the jumper bay when they arrived. Sheppard was there as well, and he pulled Lindsey aside when Beckett had finished in order to apologize. He’d been incredibly contrite, and she’d returned his apology with one of her own; neither of them had been completely in their right minds in that armory, and she knew that.
Once Sheppard had been sent on his way, she looked around for Lorne, but he was long gone. Apparently he’d stayed just long enough to confirm that the inoculation had kicked in, and then disappeared down the hall toward the transporter.
* * *
The next day, he showed up at her temporary lab assignment with a bar of Hershey’s Cookies & Cream. “I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?”
“As long as it’s not too long.” She stood, powered down her tablet, and told Marshov that she was taking an early lunch. Lorne led her down the hallway to the nearby balcony. He walked to the railing and stared out at the ocean for long enough that she considered leaving again, but he had bought the time with chocolate. White chocolate, even. Finally, he let out an aggravated sigh and turned to face her.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
She blinked. “This makes everything better?”
“No, no, of course not. I’m not that naïve. I know that we’ve never really been friends, at least not before this week…I want to change that. This…weekend, or whatever you want to call it, it wasn’t just about the pheromones.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it as he struggled with the words. She stayed quiet, waiting to see where this was going. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to spend time with you, outside of off-world missions and Daedalus emergencies. Maybe even go on a date of some kind; maybe go back to that beach house. I meant what I said yesterday, Lindsey. You’re someone I think I’d want to remember.”
She nodded thoughtfully, tapping her chin with the candy bar. “Hmm. And if I say no?”
He shrugged, and shifted to look back over the horizon. “Then we go back to the occasional mission and the Wormhole X-Treme DX vs. Wormhole X-Treme debate. Are you saying no?”
She stepped up, leaning against the railing just beside him. “I’m saying maybe.” She nudged his shoulder. “Come on, it’s getting ready to rain and I’ve got calculations to finish. Bring more of these-“ she held up the Hershey bar “and we’ll talk about the possibilities.” She pushed off the railing and headed into the safety of the city as thunder rolled across the skies. She had no idea what she’d tell Lorne at their next meeting, but she had a feeling things would definitely be interesting.
~ Finis ~