lccb

Context is everything

2006-07-23T20:28:51Z

It's been a surreal week, and I picked up a few quotes to add to my list:

"I don't know why I'm crying. I hate babies. Don't they look like earthworms?"
~ Amanda, upon seeing a picture of her friend's newborn

"Well, you know what they say, pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional."
~ Completely unhelpful comment from a friend (who shall remain nameless) after my visit to the ER

More quotes here.

Fic: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

2006-07-23T14:23:29Z

Title: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Genre/Characters: Gen, Teyla & Cadman friendship
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Takes place during Allies. Spoilers for that episode.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to people more creative and wealthier than I.

This was a pinch-hit for the Teyla ficathon at teylafen. The request was, “Teyla and one of the women in Atlantis (Laura Cadman by preference): music and the sea.”

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Teyla rested against the railing of the balcony and let the familiar melody ease her troubled thoughts. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the words as she felt the wind carry them out to sea. She needed this moment, just a moment to try to warm the deep chill that had settled in her chest since the Wraith arrived; just a moment away from the suspicion and frustration of her people whose mortal enemy had been invited into the city that was supposed to be their haven.

Her conversation with Michael had been...unsettling. We are nothing like you, her angry retort still echoed in her mind. She believed that with every fiber of her being, yet, no matter how hard John tried to convince her, she could find no measure of comfort with their plan to help these Wraith win their civil war by turning their enemies into humans. She found it increasingly difficult to ignore the doubting voice within her asking if they – if she – were more like the Wraith than they were willing to admit.

She had managed to escape the watchful eyes of John, Ronon, and Halling and sought out this isolated balcony on the edge of the explored area of the city. For as long as Teyla could remember, singing had always been a comfort to her. Song was food for the soul, Charin often said. Suddenly, Teyla heard a noise behind her. She whirled around to see a clearly startled Lieutenant Laura Cadman.

Laura was walking by when she could have sworn she heard singing, and her curiosity had taken her through the balcony doors before she realized it. “Oh, I’m sorry Teyla – I didn’t realize...”

Despite her best efforts, Teyla couldn’t quite hide her annoyance at being disturbed. “Did you need something, Lieutenant?”

Laura cursed herself for barging out here without thinking. “Oh – no, I’m sorry to disturb you. I just thought I heard–” Then she reflected on the radio chatter she’d heard a moment ago. “Um, I think Colonel Sheppard and Ronon are looking for you.”

Teyla rolled her eyes. “I am sure they are,” she said dryly.

Laura didn’t know Teyla that well, and she wasn’t quite sure how to take that, so she thought she better execute a strategic retreat before things got weird. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you alone.” Laura turned to leave.

Teyla realized how rude she was being and instantly felt guilty. “No, Lieutenant, it is all right. I apologize; I just wasn’t expecting anyone to come out here.”

Laura shrugged it off. “Hey, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I was just out for a walk. Trying to clear my head before starting my shift.”

Teyla smiled. She liked the young lieutenant. Young. That thought gave her pause. She looked at Lt. Cadman again, and realized that in years they were probably close in age. Teyla idly wondered when had she started feeling so old? Then she noticed that Lt. Cadman was still standing uncertainly by the doorway, and decided that some company wouldn’t be so bad after all. “I would not stop you from continuing on your walk, but you are welcome to join me here. There is a bit of peace and quiet to be had and plenty of room.”

Laura couldn’t tell if Teyla really wanted company or was just being polite. “Are you sure? Because it looks to me like you’re hiding out.” When Teyla raised her eyebrows at that, it occurred to Laura that could be taken the wrong way by the Athosian leader. “I-I didn’t mean that you were hiding, it’s just a figure of speech –”

Teyla reassured her with a small laugh. “It is all right, Lieutenant. And I...would like the company.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Laura tentatively walked over to stand near Teyla. “And please, call me Laura.”

“Of course, Laura.” Teyla gave a nod and turned her attention back to the sea. Laura adjusted her posture to match Teyla’s, leaning forward and resting her harms on the railing. Laura tried not to let it show, but she was a bit intimidated by Teyla, and Laura Cadman wasn’t intimidated by many things. She was an officer in the Marine Corps, had put herself in mortal peril more times than she could count, and hell, she’d even survived a trip in McKay’s head without so much as a blip on her psych eval. But Teyla was the leader of her people, could put Laura’s own ass-kicking skills to shame, and she was so damn calm and composed all of the time.

Then Teyla said, “You are correct, you know.”

That caught Laura a bit off-guard. “I’m sorry?”

“I suppose I am ‘hiding out,’ as you put it.” She paused and just when Laura thought she wasn’t going to continue, Teyla sighed heavily, “Colonel Sheppard seems determined to convince me that this plan to work with the Wraith is a good idea, not simply something we have no choice but to do. Since Michael arrived and requested to see me, Ronon has been hovering constantly. And my people are finding it...difficult...to accept that we are working with the Wraith.” She stopped talking, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I am sorry. You do not need to be burdened with all of this.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Laura reassured her. “We all need to vent every now and then. And with Wraith roaming the hallways, things are a little more...intense...around here than usual. And I didn’t think that was even possible.”

They both fell quiet for a time. Teyla gazed at the surface of the deep blue water, noting how the sun glistened on the peaks of the waves. Strange, Teyla thought, how the simple act of watching the sea could be so...soothing.

“Was there sea on Athos?”

Laura’s question roused Teyla from her thoughts. “No, there was a large river, a few small lakes, but nothing like this. At least not near where my people were settled.” She paused. “The others have told me that your world has many seas.”

Laura nodded. “Yup. For all the space we have on land to spread out, our planet is actually mostly water.”

“And did you live near a sea, Laura?” Teyla asked. She found herself wanting to know more about this woman who chose to be a warrior though it was an uncommon role for women of her planet.

“No, at least there wasn’t one close to where I grew up.” Laura paused for a moment. “My grandparents, though, they had a place in Florida, right on the ocean. When I was a teenager, I got to be a bit too much for my mother, and she sent me to live with them for a while. I remember spending a lot of time sitting on the rocks by the water, just staring out at the ocean.” Laura remembered how huge her problems seemed then. Little did she know that someday she’d be staring at another ocean in another galaxy contemplating the arrival of life-sucking aliens. Her attention returned to the woman standing beside her. “That was beautiful, what you were singing,” she said.

Teyla smiled wistfully. “It is an old song I learned when I was a child. It is about a traveler who falls in love with a woman and finds a place to call home. My father taught it to me and I remember singing it with him. I always seem to feel better when I sing it.”

“You know, it reminds me of a song my mom used to sing,” Laura said.

“Really? What is it about?” Teyla asked.

Laura thought for a moment. “It’s about going for a walk on a winter’s day and dreaming you were somewhere else, someplace warm. It sounds kind of sad when you think about the words, but it’s a pretty song. I mean, please don’t ask me to sing it, because I can’t sing worth a damn, but, yeah, my mom used to sing around the house all the time. She was a bit of a hippie in her day – though I guess that probably doesn’t mean anything to you.” Laura decided she was rambling. “The point is, it’s a good memory, like yours.”

Teyla nodded and turned to face the sea once more. Laura took a moment to observer her. The expression on her face was typically serene, but there was a tightness around her eyes and a tension in her shoulders. Then Teyla asked, “Tell me, Laura, do you agree with what we are doing?”

Laura winced. “Teyla, those are my superior officers making these decisions. I’m not really supposed to –”

Teyla apologized, “I am sorry, I should not have asked –”

“–but, far be it for me to let protocol prevent me from expressing my opinion,” Laura added with a wry smile. “No amount of push-ups could erase that particular personality trait.” She caught Teyla’s quizzical look. “Uh, push-ups – in basic training – they make you do extras when you do something wrong.”

Teyla nodded her head in amused understanding. “Ah, yes, of course.”

“It’s just...” Laura sighed. “I don’t know, Teyla. It’s hard to know what the right thing is. I don’t feel good about it, and I don’t think my superiors do either. My gut’s telling me not to trust the Wraith, but, we’re in a tough spot. Maybe we can trust that they hate each other enough to keep up their end of the deal, at least for now.” She paused. “Sometimes there are days when I’m happy to be the one taking orders and not making the big decisions. I think this qualifies.” She turned back to Teyla. “I guess that doesn’t help much, huh?”

“No, on the contrary, Laura,” Teyla replied. “This...this has helped.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. After a while, Teyla began to hum. It was the tune of the song she was singing earlier. Before she realized it, Laura was humming along with her. They stayed like that for a time, looking out at the vast Atlantean sea, allowing themselves to forget everything but the comfort of the melody and the caress of the gentle breeze.

Fin.

Fic: Vices to Live by

2006-07-18T14:27:37Z

Title: Vices to Live by
Fandom: Without a Trace
Characters: Samantha, with bits of Jack and Danny
Category: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Without a Trace and its characters belong to people more creative and wealthier than I.

For delgaserasca’s ficathon. Prompt was the quote: "Here's a rule I recommend: Never practice two vices at once." ~ Tallulah Bankhead

Vices to Live by

The Academy’s requirement that all agents take a psych course meant that Sam had to be here, but damn, this guy was boring. She forced herself to tune back in to the lecture: "...the case of risk-seeking behavior poses an interesting puzzle for psychologists. Studies show that persistent risk-seekers tend to be intelligent and well-educated, yet they do not seem to be deterred by harmful consequences. In the case of pathological gamblers, for instance..."

Jack, predictably, is yelling. Sam really wishes he wouldn’t yell – the whole office can probably hear him by now.

"Look, Jack, I’m sorry –" she interrupts "– but he would have gotten away if I hadn’t gone in, and then we wouldn’t have –"

"You. Wait. For. Backup." Jack’s now tightly controlled voice silences hers. "Honestly, Samantha, how many times are we going to have this conversation?"

Sam thinks he’s blowing this whole thing out of proportion. "Jack, I know I took a risk, but –"

"You took a risk?" Jack looks incredulous. "He nearly got your gun!"

"I handled it!" responds Sam as she pointedly ignores the throbbing in her wrist.

Jack stares at her with an intensity that’s broken many a suspect and she struggles not to flinch. "Go home," he says quietly.

Sam protests, "Jack, I really don’t think that’s necessary –"

"Go home!" he bellows, and Sam knows the argument is over.

"I know, settle down..." Samantha listened as Mrs. Pomroy’s voice rose above the giggles of her 8th grade American history class. "It may sound silly now, but the prohibition movement was quite real and especially successful here in the Midwest. For example, the members of the Women’s Temperance Society in Evanston, Illinois were famous for saying, ‘Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine.’"

Sam barely pauses in front of the refrigerated case at her local market before she opens the door and grabs a six pack of bottled beer. She walks quickly past the other aisles, deciding she really doesn’t need anything else right now, and heads straight for the counter.

"This is the lung of a smoker." The guy from the cancer society brought up his next slide on the screen, prompting a chorus of “ewww” from the audience in the junior high auditorium. Samantha wrinkled her nose at the picture, strangely fascinated by the lump of putrid, black-green flesh.

The Asian man behind the counter is placing her beer at the bottom of a brown paper bag when he asks, "Would you like anything else?"

On impulse, Sam replies, "Yeah, actually, I’ll take a pack of cigarettes."

"Sure." The cashier turns around to face the shelves of cigarette cartons behind him. "Which brand?"

Sam hesitates slightly before replying with the brand that her mother used to smoke.

"Hey Bogart, what do you think you’re doing?" Sam looked up from her table in the student union to see the rumpled, clearly displeased face of her coach. God, she hated that nickname. He pointed at the burger in her hands. "You can’t put that kind of crap in your body and expect to play well. Crap in, crap out – and that’s more than literal."

Sam gets an Ace bandage from the cabinet under her bathroom sink and carefully wraps her injured wrist with a practiced ease. She walks back to her kitchen and opens one of the beer bottles on the counter before putting the rest in the fridge. She’s on her second by the time the pizza arrives. She manages to smile at the familiar face of the delivery guy as she hands him a generous tip.

It was pointless to hope that her high school hadn’t heard about her attempt to run away. Now that she had been officially labeled "troubled," she had to endure weekly chats with the school’s counselor. Sam was feeding her some bull about how things were getting better with her mother when the counselor surprised her with her next question.

"Are you having sex, Samantha?"

"What?!" Sam responded.

The counselor continued, "Sometimes, girls with your...background...turn to sex to fill their emotional needs. But it’s an empty solution, Samantha, and you’ll more than likely end up hurt."

Sam flips open her cell phone and starts scrolling through the stored numbers. There was Jack, and Martin. Even Keller was still in there. There was the guy from two weeks ago when she just needed to feel something, and the guy from six months ago when she had too much to drink...

She finally pauses on a name and presses the send button.

"You mark my words, Sammie." Her mother’s slurred, bitter voice cut through the cigarette smoke that was slowly filling the small kitchen. "The only person you can depend on is yourself. You remember that. It’s the most important thing you’ll ever learn."

After two rings, Danny answers. "Hey Sam, what’s up?"

It takes Sam a second to find her voice, as if she wasn’t expecting him to answer. "Oh, hi – I, uh, I was just calling to –"

Danny must hear something in her voice because he interrupts her with, "Sam, are you okay?"

Suddenly she loses her nerve and is prepared to lie, but then her gaze travels around her cluttered apartment – from the beer bottles and open pizza box to the unopened packet of cigarettes and finally lands in her lap where the bandage is tight around her swollen wrist.

"Sam?" Danny is still waiting for her answer.

Sam takes a deep breath. "Um, you know what? I don’t think I am."

Danny’s voice is urgent and concerned. "What’s wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing, it’s just –" she pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.

She finally says in a small voice, "I think I could use a friend right now." Then she adds quickly, "but if you’ve got plans, it’s really not a big deal –"

"Hey, no worries, I was just leaving the office now," Danny says.

"Are you sure? Because –"

Danny cuts her off with a slight chuckle. "Sam, I’ll be right over. You’re at home, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, that would be great. Thanks." She closes her phone.

Sam sinks back into the couch and closes her eyes. She’s surprised to feel the sting of tears and blinks them away furiously. She stands up and walks over to the window where twilight is descending on the city that never sleeps. She sits and curls herself upon the window seat, her head leaning against the glass, facing the direction from which she’s mostly likely to spot Danny approaching her building.

Fin.

Fic: The End of Ignorance

2006-07-16T14:44:08Z

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Lara Ford, with a bit of Sheppard and mentions of Ford
Rating: PG
Prompt: For the sga_flashfic Earthside challenge, and the psych_30 challenge - #30, Denial (My table is here .)
Spoilers: Mild for Intruder
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to people far more creative and wealthier than I.

Note: I got Lara’s name from the Gateworld transcript of Intruder.

The End of Ignorance

Somewhere, on the outer edges of her awareness, Lara Ford Martinson could hear the sizzling on the stove that signaled that the pasta was boiling over.

But her attention was fixed on the television screen.

The news had been insane all week, like something out of a sci-fi novel. Something about aliens that either wanted to take us over or eat us or God knows what. It was all too weird for her to process, and until these aliens were knocking on her doorstep, she was happy to leave it as someone else’s problem to worry about. Hell, it was hardly the first time the government had hid something from the public, though it gave entirely too much credence to any lunatic who had ever claimed "Aliens made me do it."

But it was still all anyone could talk about, so when she turned on the small TV in her kitchen she was unsurprised that it was still aliens 24/7. Then, as she glanced up from her dinner preparations to see a Pentagon press conference, she froze. Standing next to the Secretary-General-Admiral-whoever at the microphone was a face she knew.

The feeling of recognition hit her with such force that she grabbed the edge of the counter for support. He looked older. His dark hair was graying a bit at the temples, and looked somewhat neater than she remembered it. The expression on his face was the picture of military stoicism, but Lara remembered how troubled it was when he came to visit her all those years ago.

Lara recalled she wasn’t particularly kind to him, then. It was clear he cared about Aiden and was trying to provide what comfort and hope he could, but she was angry and frustrated and unsure of how to deal with the loss of her cousin who maybe wasn’t really gone. They never did get official confirmation one way or the other. By the time her grandparents had passed away, Lara was pretty sure that Aiden was dead, too.

As realization started to sink in, Lara felt as if her world had just tilted sideways. When Aiden went MIA, it was at the height of the War on Terror, and she had just assumed he had been on some secret mission in Iraq or Afghanistan or North Korea. Of course the not-knowing troubled her, but she had made a certain kind of peace with it and never pursued it. It pained her to remember the grief it caused her grandparents, but, it was the path Aiden chose, after all.

Lara barely registered her husband rushing into the room. "Lara, you’re not watching the stove!"

She overheard cursing and clanking – probably James taking the pots off the burners. Then, "Lara, what’s wrong?"

Lara glanced briefly at him, tears welling up in her eyes. "I never..." She turned back to the TV. "He..."

James gently grabbed her shoulders, turning her to him. "Lara, what is it?"

She finally looked into his eyes, full of concern and confusion. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I think I know what happened to Aiden."

Fin.

More quotes

2006-07-08T15:16:33Z

I've had a few more additions to my quote collection...

"What gets us into trouble is not what we don't know. It's what we know for sure that just ain't so."
-Mark Twain

"Evil is never as simple as you'd like it to be."
-Me (inspired by a discussion with my mom)

"Real friends are those who, when you've made a fool of yourself, don't feel that you've done a permanent job."
-Source unknown, from the book Apples of Gold

I've added them to my quote list here...

Fic: Natural Wonders

2006-06-30T06:17:48Z

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Teyla, with brief appearances by Halling and Sheppard
Rating: PG
Spoilers: mild for Critical Mass
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to people far more creative and wealthier than I.

A/N: Three Teyla ficlets, because tielan nudged me, and I opened a bottle of red wine tonight.

Natural Wonders

Glimmer

The sun glinted off of Jinto's auburn hair as he ran across the field to join the game. Some of the scientists and marines were teaching the children how to play a sport from their world, though they seemed to disagree over whether it was called "soccer" or "football." From watching them play, Teyla thought the latter name made more sense.

The day was warm. A smile crept onto Teyla's face as she watched the unlikely group laughing and playing on the golden grass of the field.

"Amazing how life takes turns we would have never forseen," Halling's quiet, steady voice said beside her.

Teyla glanced up at her friend. She took in his relaxed shoulders, the slight crinkle of amusement around his eyes. As such accomplished negotiators, she and Halling were sometimes accused of being unreadable, but after all these years, so few words were needed between the two of them.

Teyla looked back to the field. "Yes, it is," was her only reply.

Halling bent his head towards her. "Thanks be to the Ancestors," he offered.

She turned back to him. The light in his eyes matched her own. “Thanks be,” she answered. Then, with a smile and a slight nod of his head, he walked away.

Teyla tilted her head up and gazed at the sky. There was not a cloud to be seen. She squinted her eyes at the Atlantean sun, bright in the sky. Perhaps, Teyla dared to hope, their future would be just as bright.

Chill

It rained the night her father was taken.

There had been a drought that season. Teyla remembers overhearing the council discussing it. The crops were in danger of failing, and their trade debts were climbing. Unless rain came soon, there would not be enough food to feed their people through the winter.

Everyone she knew was praying to the Ancestors and gods from any planet they had heard of for the rains to come. However, it was to no avail, and her people had nearly given up hope and were beginning to plan for the worst.

But, that night, shortly after the Wraith attack, the rains came, quelling the fires, mingling with the tears of a stricken people and a young girl who would never feel truly safe again.

Teyla stayed awake through that night and most of the following day, huddled under the bedcovers, shivering in time with the raindrops that pelted their tent.

And the crops were saved. Her people ate well through the winter and into the next season. Now, years later, in certain moments, Teyla can appreciate the symmetry, that the same night that brought death also brought life.

The rains come often on this planet, giving it lush vegetation and a perpetual mist that hangs in the air. Teyla stood outside, under the overhang of the small cabin where the villagers had invited them to spend the night. John was beside her, saying something about an old girlfriend who liked walking in the rain, but Teyla was focused on the falling drops of water.

"Do you like the rain?" she heard him ask.

Heavy rain drops played a constant rhythm on the roof of the cabin.

"No," she answered.

Whisper

The breeze carried the scent to her.

They, along with another team, were evaluating this planet as a potential Alpha Site. As soon as she reasonably could, Teyla slipped away from her teammates and walked in the face of the gentle wind, following the distinctive aroma. Sure enough, a short time later she stumbled upon a field of masios. The delicate, yellow flowers were rare in the Pegasus galaxy and prized for their unique color and pleasant perfume. She leaned over, her fingers brushing the petals as she inhaled the exotic, sweet fragrance.

Teyla’s hand froze in mid-air as she stopped herself from picking some for Charin. Even after all these months, there were still times when she was startled to remind herself that Charin was dead.

Still, despite the pang in Teyla’s heart, it brought a smile to her face, remembering how Charin, who so often boasted that she was a practical woman with no patience for nonsense, could be reduced to silly, happy tears at the sight of a bouquet of masios.

And so Teyla simply paused where she was and allowed the scent and the memories to surround her. As she listened to the wind rustle through the trees, Teyla thought she could hear the faint, throaty laughter of a woman whose quiet strength and unshakable honor would forever guide her.

My psych 30 table, for future reference

2006-06-19T14:04:44Z

psych_30 challenge - my claim is Stargate Atlantis, General Series

In keeping with the psychological theme, a trend seems to be evolving that I think I'll stick with. Each fic will be from one character's POV - more or less a trip through his or her head...

1.	Transference	2.	Daddy Issues	3.	Addiction	4.	Ego/Id	5.	Multiple Personality
6.	Inferiority Complex	7.	Nature vs. Nurture	8.	Phobia	9.	Sociopath	10.	Approach-Avoidance
11.	Castration Anxiety	12.	Collective Unconscious	13.	Delusion	14.	Fixation	15.	Halo Effect
16.	Fetish	17.	Group Think	18.	Instinct	19.	Separation Anxiety	20.	Learned Helplessness
21.	Rationalizaton	22.	Libido	23.	Vicarious	24.	Skinner Box	25.	Placebo Effect
26.	Obsession	27.	Catharsis	28.	Free Association	29.	Repression	30.	Denial

Fic: Next Time I'll Let the Pod People Keep Me

2006-06-19T13:19:54Z

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Mostly Cadman, appearances by McKay and Sheppard
Rating: PG-13 for language
Prompt: For the sga_flashfic exhaustion challenge, and the psych_30 challenge - #29, Repression (My table is here.)
Spoilers: Mild for Duet
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to people far more creative and wealthier than I.

A/N: Just made one minor change since I posted this at sga_flashfic – Lt. Parrillo is now Lt. Capelli. The name Parrillo reminds me of someone I knew, and Lord knows why that name popped in to my head when I was writing this (I think I just had the idea that the Lt. was Italian), but, yeah, on further thought I decided I wanted to change it.

Next Time I'll Let the Pod People Keep Me

Lieutenant Laura Cadman was on control room duty, but she shouldn’t be. She must be well into her third (or was it fourth?) consecutive shift by now. Ordinarily, the fact that she couldn’t quite pinpoint what shift she was on would bother her, but right now she was too damn tired to care, and the past 24 hours – hell, the past week – were pretty much a blur. She did glance at her watch, though, and clumsily calculated that it had only been a few hours since she returned from M3G-664, after four (five?) days of climbing, crawling and blasting her way through the debris from the earthquake that devastated the Trimorians.

No doubt her COs would bawl her out if they realized she was still on duty. But Major Lorne was still finishing up relief efforts off-world, and Colonel Sheppard, well, she wasn’t sure where he was, but she presumed – hoped – that he was somewhere in Atlantis. No one had told her any different, and the idea that in her state she could be the highest-ranking able officer on the premises and therefore the temporary military commander of the city struck Laura as more than a little absurd.

Anyone else with the rank and skills to take the Control Room Officer shift were either off-world or in worse shape than she was. Five marines, including two lieutenants, were in the infirmary, the victims of a building collapse during an aftershock. After Laura accompanied them back through the gate and helped Gomez onto a gurney, she noticed that Lt. Capelli was still on control room duty, and he looked about ready to fall over. A quick investigation revealed just how fucked up the duty roster had gotten. She knew she must have been a sight, covered in dust and dirt and scrapes and bruises, ordering a protesting Capelli to be prepared to be relieved in 20 minutes (he was a 2nd Lieutenant, after all, so she did outrank him). Still, it seemed like the thing to do at the time.

Laura had somehow managed to dodge Carson, grab a quick shower, scarf down a power bar and drain a cup of coffee before sending Capelli shuffling on his way. It took maybe half an hour for the fatigue to really set in. Her head pounded and her shoulders ached. Her knees were bruised and her legs felt like lead. She had to struggle to keep her vision in focus. And damn, who knew that the human body had so many back muscles?

As Laura stood at the military officer’s station in the control room – she found it easier to stay awake if she was standing up – she tried to push down thoughts that her latest attempt at playing superwoman was not the best idea. Her hands gripped the back of her chair, with her arms supporting much of her upper body weight, as she stared blankly at the data screen on the console.

Come on, just a few more hours. You can stay awake and alert for a few more hours. You’re a Marine, goddammit. Hell, she’d been through worse (hadn’t she?). Besides, things had gone sort of numb by now. If she stayed on duty, the past few days could stay a blur and she could ignore the highlights of her latest jaunt in the Pegasus galaxy. If she stayed on duty, she wouldn’t have to worry about the image of a six-year-old boy crushed in his bed invading her nightmares. She was tough, she was a Marine, she could push aside the fatigue and the pain and do her duty.

Never mind that it was questionable whether she’d be able to tell a MALP from a Genii nuke should either of them roll through the gate right now.

Dimly she became aware that someone – or something – was trying to get her attention.

“Cadman? – “ then a short whistle – “Yoo-hoo? Cadman?”

Laura blinked as her head turned and her eyes focused on one clearly annoyed Rodney McKay. Then again, Rodney was always annoyed about something.

“I’m sorry, Rodney,” she responded in a tired, flat voice. “Did you need something?”

“Well, yeesss, that’s why I was – “ He waved his hand in front her face, causing Laura to blink some more. “What’s with you? Are you sure you didn’t run into the Pod People on ‘664?”

Laura rolled her eyes. Apparently, one of the geeks (she was sure it wasn’t one of the marines) had thought it necessary to bring along a copy of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (the old 1950’s version), and it had been the pick for movie night a few weeks ago. How the hell that movie made it into the rotation was beyond her. As if they didn’t already have enough problems with life-sucking vampires – who’s to say there weren’t real-life body snatchers waiting somewhere out there? Just bringing the idea into the Pegasus galaxy was asking for trouble. On second thought, resting happily in some giant pea pod while some emotionless clone took her place didn’t sound half bad right now...

“Cadman?!”

She blinked. Damn, did she space out again? Really, Rodney was the last person she wanted to be dealing with right now. She said forcefully, “What, McKay?”

Rodney opened his mouth, then closed it, and looked her up and down. “You look terrible.”

Laura narrowed her gaze and her voice took on a dangerous tone, “I’m sorry?”

Rodney waved her off. “No, seriously, I’m sure you were having fun blowing up rubble on ‘664, but when was the last time you slept?”

Laura squinted at him in disbelief. Was Rodney actually expressing concern? Maybe he was the Pod Person. “Rodney, I’m fine. Major Lorne and the rest of the teams still on ‘664 will be back in a few hours, one of those officers can relieve me then. Now was there something you needed?”

McKay held his stare as he gave a short “hmph.” He tapped a bit on the screen of his laptop – Laura swore he carried that damn thing around like a security blanket – and with one more glance at her, just said, “Uh, you know what? Never mind.” She shrugged as she watched him walk away, and after a quick glance around the room, she returned to staring at her console.

Not long after, she was startled by the lazy drawl of her CO behind her. “Lieutenant, what the hell are you still doing on duty?”

Shit. Laura snapped to attention as quickly as her tired muscles would allow. Goddammit, McKay, always sticking your– “Colonel, sir, Capelli was well past his third shift and–”

“Aren’t you on your fourth shift by now, Lieutenant? Where’s Saunders?”

Laura tried to prevent the surprise from showing on her face. Most of the time Sheppard seemed so laid back that it was hard not to buy into his act, but on most days he did in fact know exactly where his officers were, and it shouldn’t surprise her that he knew just how many shifts she’d pulled, or who should have been on deck as Control Room Officer.

“He’s on ‘664, sir. He was called out as backup when we took casualties from that building collapse.”

Sheppard winced. Yup, the duty roster had gotten royally fucked. Laura waited for the reprimand that had to be coming for not consulting her CO and just deciding to take the shift herself, and then she noticed Sheppard looking her up and down, much in the same way Rodney did, and, like him, his expression turned from one of annoyance to concern. Jeez, did she really look that bad?

Sheppard sighed. “Get outta here, Cadman. You’re relieved. Go get some rest.”

Laura protested, “But, sir, there’s no one to take the shift–“

“I’ll take the shift if necessary. Or one of the sergeants can manage it. I’ll call up Lorne and get an ETA, maybe he can send some people back early – ones that aren’t dead on their feet.” He paused as Laura didn’t move. “Dismissed, Lieutenant, or do I have to get Beckett to tie you to a bed in the infirmary?”

Laura’s eyes went wide and she blushed. She and Carson were just friends, at least for the time being, but ever since “the kiss” back when she was stuck inside McKay’s head, they’d been favorite grist for the rumor mill. Sheppard winced again, “I mean–“

Suddenly, Laura found this all very funny and couldn’t stifle a rather loud laugh. And then she kept laughing. Sheppard blinked at her and raised his eyebrows.

Laura struggled to contain her laughter before her CO decided she was hysterical and really did send her to the infirmary. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, sir, I’ll be going now.”

Sheppard’s familiar smirk had returned. “See that you do, Cadman. Get some rest. You did a good job out there.”

Laura nodded and headed for the stairs. “Will do, sir. Thank you, sir.”

As she made her way to her quarters, the momentary surge of energy from her CO’s visit and her subsequent giggling fit had subsided, and now Laura could once again feel every tired muscle, every ache and pain. She paused in front of her door and let out a heavy sigh. She figured that she was exhausted enough that her dreams just might be free of earthquake destruction and Pod People. Carson tying her to a bed, on the other hand...

The first real smile in over four days graced Laura Cadman’s face as she entered her quarters.

Fic: Devil in the Details

2006-06-05T03:09:43Z

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Teyla’s POV, mentions of the rest of the team
Rating: PG
Prompt: For the psych_30 challenge – #3, Addiction (my claim is Stargate Atlantis: General Series)
Spoilers: Seasons 1 and 2, especially The Gift, The Lost Boys, and The Hive
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to people far more creative and wealthier than I.
A/N: Sort of a post-ep for The Hive. I was thinking that Teyla might have been affected a bit differently than the others...

Devil in the Details

She remembers it all in excruciating detail.

It is not so with the others, from what Teyla can tell. Oh, Rodney and Ronon remember the sequence of events well enough. But for the short time that he was under the influence of a massive, self-inflicted dose of the Wraith enzyme, Rodney reports that the details are mostly a blur to him. When she asked Ronon what he remembered of his time on the enzyme, he spoke of fragments that he recalls clearly – the injections, fighting Ford’s men, their ill-fated assault on the Wraith ship – but admitted that a haze surrounds his memories of the times in between those moments.

Colonel Sheppard – John – no doubt remembers the entire ordeal vividly; but he was not forced to take the enzyme, so instead his is a clarity born of guilt. He blames himself for the capture of his team and for losing Aiden once again.

Teyla also felt the frenzied energy and feverish strength from the enzyme, but instead of a blur or a haze, she remembers every minute, every word, every act, every urge. And it all seems to replay from beginning to end whenever she closes her eyes.

It is these images which rouse her from a fitful sleep now.

It is dark in her quarters. Teyla sits up and looks at the clock, squinting slightly. She sighs and rubs a hand over her face. Though Teyla and Ronon were over the worst of the withdrawal by the time they escaped the hive ship, in the few days since they returned to Atlantis some effects still linger – tremors, headaches, restlessness, the occasional craving for more enzyme...

Teyla lights some candles and heads for her shower. She steps under the hot spray and picks up the bar of kalla root soap that she brought from the mainland. She holds it under her nose and inhales its comforting scent.

Dr. Beckett said that what makes the Wraith enzyme addictive is the feeling of power and invincibility that it causes. Teyla felt these effects, but more than anything else the enzyme heightened her senses, all of them. It was intoxicating. She was incredibly aware of everyone and everything around her – sights, sounds, and scents. While on the hive ship, Teyla realized that the enzyme also magnified her ability to sense the Wraith to a terrifying degree. As their thoughts brushed against hers, she could discern distinct voices among the unity of the hive mind, track their movements, feel the anger and agitation of the Queen.

But what troubles her more was her sensitivity to Ford’s men and her own teammates. It was as if she could sense the energy that flowed through their veins. And she felt an irresistible pull to consume it. Though she will never openly admit it, she suspects she felt something akin to the desire to feed on a human.

She has sensed the hunger of Wraith before – indeed, that is one aspect of the gift that allows her to sense their proximity. But in Ford’s cave, her body flush with the power bestowed by the enzyme, she knows she was not channeling the hunger of a nearby Wraith. It was coming from her.

Despite the hot water cascading over her body, Teyla shivers.

She has not dared to ask Dr. Beckett why the enzyme would affect her in this way. She fears she already knows the answer. Teyla is still coming to terms with the fact that she is part Wraith, and she would rather convince herself that such thoughts were simply delusions caused by the influence of the enzyme, playing on her worst fears.

Satisfied that she has washed the worst of the memories away, she turns off the water and reaches for a towel. As she dries herself off and walks back into her bedroom, she ignores the persistent tickling at the back of her mind that belies this easy explanation.

Because deep within herself she knows, though these new additions to her nightmares make the Wraith even more repulsive to her now than ever before, that she is dangerously close to understanding them. Somewhere between the overwhelming hunger and the hypnotic swirl of voices and emotions on the hive ship, she began to perceive the nuances of their existence – their motivations, their beliefs, their need.

She walks over to her closet and contemplates the clothes there, trying to banish thoughts of the Wraith from her mind. Teyla has always been a practical person, and there has never been any good reason to understand why the Wraith do what they do beyond the fact that they are evil monsters who want nothing more than to drain the life from you and those you love. But now...

Teyla roughly slams the drawer shut after retrieving a loose shirt, and quickly dons it, letting the hem slide over the waist of her flowing pants. Not her typical attire, but she is not yet on active duty and it eases the feeling of being trapped in her own skin. She glances at the clock again, and notes that the sun will rise soon. She blows out her candles, slips on her sandals and walks out into the corridor, turning left towards the balcony where she will give thanks to the Ancestors as she greets the morning.

Fic: Marked by Violence

2006-05-29T22:05:14Z

Title: Marked by Violence
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Calleigh, Horatio (friendship)
Prompt: For the writers_choice challenge – quiet (#153)
Rating: PG
Summary: Quiet, peaceful lives are not for them.

A/N: Well, not what I had planned on doing on my day off, but bits of this have been kicking around in my head for a while, and the prompt pulled them together. My love for Emily Procter has kept me watching CSI: Miami sporadically, and surprisingly enough this turned into a kind of post-ep for Urban Hellraisers...

Spoilers: Mild for various episodes from Seasons 1–3, and for Season 4’s Urban Hellraisers
Disclaimer: CSI: Miami and its characters belong to people more creative and wealthier than I.

Marked by Violence

For her, it started when she was a child. The slap of a drunken hand, the sting of an angry belt. The taste of iron on her tongue, the tickle of tears rolling down her cheeks.

For him, it also began in childhood, with the murder of his mother. The smell of copper that filled the room. The silence, unbearable silence, emanating from a body who no longer breathed, who would never again whisper words of love and comfort.

Since they can remember, their lives have been marked by violence. Perhaps that is why they are drawn to do what they do. They confront the violent acts of others day in and day out. They analyze them, dissect them. They apply science and reason, and seek meaning. They play their part in the search for justice and the struggle to protect the innocent.

They chase violence, and in turn, violence chases them. It is not the doing a vengeful God or some other malicious force of the universe; it just is. Others (friends, colleagues, casual observers) have asked, even in light of what they do, why so much seems to happen to them. Still they continue on, seeing little choice but to endure the pain and scars left behind by those who commit violence – psychos like Hank Kerner and Walter Dresden – and the ones who succumb to it – Tim Speedle, Raymond Caine, John Hagen...

It is late, well past the end of her shift, and Calleigh finds herself standing in the hallway where earlier today the muted murmur of the lab was shattered by a rain of bullets and broken glass. She hears footsteps approach, and senses the familiar gaze of cobalt-blue eyes. As she contemplates the spot where Agent Elliot was gunned down, a fleeting thought hits her. "Horatio, do you ever wonder..." But before she can finish the thought, it is gone. What was she going to say? Wonder why murderers and madmen seem to be lurking around every corner? Why didn't they choose nice, normal, quiet, peaceful lives? Why this life haunted by violence seems to have been chosen for them?

"Wonder what?"

But all those possible ways to complete the question seem absurd to her. She gives a slight shake of her head, as if to clear away the glimpses of lives they could never have. "Nothing... never mind."

He shifts slightly and looks down at her with understanding in his eyes, as if he knows what she was going to ask. He wants to say something, and a dozen different platitudes cross his mind. Instead, he reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers pass through her long blond tresses. He places a slow, almost reverent kiss on her forehead and wraps his arm around her shoulders, lending her strength from his embrace.

They have been through much, and neither have any doubts that there will be more to come. But with a gentle caress, a kiss, the love and strength of a friend, surviving it all becomes just a little bit easier.

Hi

2006-05-27T17:37:36Z

So, here I am, giving this LJ thing a shot. I'm hoping this will be cathartic, since I've spent a little too much time trapped inside my own head lately. I'm working up the nerve to post some fiction and assorted drabblings, fan-based and otherwise. We'll see if I actually manage to post anything interesting here...