Lost But Not Little Boys
folder
Stargate: SG-1 › Stargate Atlantis
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,678
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Stargate: SG-1 › Stargate Atlantis
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,678
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Stargate Atlantis, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Nightscapes - Worth One Thousand and One
01:33 Atlantis Standard Time
Doctor Elizabeth Weir set her latest report to Stargate Command on her bedside table, leaving it to be finished in the morning. She went over the events of the day in her head, a ritual she had begun to remind herself that she had done all that could be done.
Major Lorne and his team reported having found a power bar wrapper left behind by Rodney, assumingly, before SGA-1 had disappeared from their mission planet. The search had turned up little else. She tried to remind herself that they had always come home in the past, and that this time would be no different.
Radek, not hiding his own worry for the lost team very well, had reported a thunder storm on its way from the south. It was nothing severe, but enough to keep the crops on the mainland “plenty wet,” as he had put it. Atlantis would be in no danger. Leave it to Radek to find the one non-threatening event of the week.
She pulled the blankets from under her pillow and settled between the cool sheets of her bed. If there was one thing that she could thank that pig-headed Colonel Caldwell for doing was for bringing the amenities of home to Atlantis. No more cots and all-weather sleeping bags.
She disliked her standard-issue pants and shirt pajamas, the way they made her feel like she was going to sleep in her cloths. She had resigned herself to the fact that they were a necessary evil. If there was an emergency in the middle of the night, she couldn’t be in a silky nightgown, now could she?
She turned the lamp off and closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep despite her uncomfortable night cloths. It did little good. She lay there for hours or minutes, she didn’t know.
Then she heard a pitter-patter, pitter-patter. The rain had begun. She was never going to get any sleep now.
There was a flash, one thousand one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three, one thousand and four, one thousand and five, one thousand and six, and a low rumble.
Amazing, she thought, how much this planet could feel like Earth. The yellow sun, blue sea and sky, the fresh ocean air. Now it seemed like even the rainstorms were the same. With the clouds covering the two moons, she could almost imagine being back home during one of the dark Colorado thunderstorms. Sam, her dog, would be sleeping soundly at the foot of her bed while Simon would be snoring loudly, keeping her awake.
No, wait, she remembered with a pang of regret. He wouldn’t be there. He’s . . . well, moved on would be the politest way to put it.
Another flash of lightning, one thousand and one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three, and another low rumble.
The storm must be getting closer. The blue light poured threw her high Atlantian window and reflected back on a picture frame. She sat up to see which picture it was.
Another flash, one thousand and one, one thousand and two, and rumble. It was the picture of Sam on her bedside table, and she reached for it. She didn’t need a light to know that it was the one she had taken when Sam had jumped into her red convertible and gotten into the groceries.
Elizabeth deftly undid the clasps keeping the picture in its frame. She had done this many times.
Beneath the picture of Sam was a picture of Simon on his birthday. Why she kept it hidden and who she was hiding it from she did not know and did not want o know. There were probably multiple psychological reasons, but they were not important to her.
She took Simon’s picture out and put Sam’s back in the frame. She set Simon on her pillow next to the hollow made by her head. “Goodnight, honey,” she said, and curled up next to him.
A flash, one thousand and one, a rumble.
She imagined his long arm wrapping around her and his body heating her own through her think silk nightgown. She could almost hear soothing, rhythmic snores before quickly fell asleep.
If you want more chapters, I want more critical reviews. This time I am requiring two before my next chapter is posted. Don't miss out on more of Rodney's suffering.
Doctor Elizabeth Weir set her latest report to Stargate Command on her bedside table, leaving it to be finished in the morning. She went over the events of the day in her head, a ritual she had begun to remind herself that she had done all that could be done.
Major Lorne and his team reported having found a power bar wrapper left behind by Rodney, assumingly, before SGA-1 had disappeared from their mission planet. The search had turned up little else. She tried to remind herself that they had always come home in the past, and that this time would be no different.
Radek, not hiding his own worry for the lost team very well, had reported a thunder storm on its way from the south. It was nothing severe, but enough to keep the crops on the mainland “plenty wet,” as he had put it. Atlantis would be in no danger. Leave it to Radek to find the one non-threatening event of the week.
She pulled the blankets from under her pillow and settled between the cool sheets of her bed. If there was one thing that she could thank that pig-headed Colonel Caldwell for doing was for bringing the amenities of home to Atlantis. No more cots and all-weather sleeping bags.
She disliked her standard-issue pants and shirt pajamas, the way they made her feel like she was going to sleep in her cloths. She had resigned herself to the fact that they were a necessary evil. If there was an emergency in the middle of the night, she couldn’t be in a silky nightgown, now could she?
She turned the lamp off and closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep despite her uncomfortable night cloths. It did little good. She lay there for hours or minutes, she didn’t know.
Then she heard a pitter-patter, pitter-patter. The rain had begun. She was never going to get any sleep now.
There was a flash, one thousand one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three, one thousand and four, one thousand and five, one thousand and six, and a low rumble.
Amazing, she thought, how much this planet could feel like Earth. The yellow sun, blue sea and sky, the fresh ocean air. Now it seemed like even the rainstorms were the same. With the clouds covering the two moons, she could almost imagine being back home during one of the dark Colorado thunderstorms. Sam, her dog, would be sleeping soundly at the foot of her bed while Simon would be snoring loudly, keeping her awake.
No, wait, she remembered with a pang of regret. He wouldn’t be there. He’s . . . well, moved on would be the politest way to put it.
Another flash of lightning, one thousand and one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three, and another low rumble.
The storm must be getting closer. The blue light poured threw her high Atlantian window and reflected back on a picture frame. She sat up to see which picture it was.
Another flash, one thousand and one, one thousand and two, and rumble. It was the picture of Sam on her bedside table, and she reached for it. She didn’t need a light to know that it was the one she had taken when Sam had jumped into her red convertible and gotten into the groceries.
Elizabeth deftly undid the clasps keeping the picture in its frame. She had done this many times.
Beneath the picture of Sam was a picture of Simon on his birthday. Why she kept it hidden and who she was hiding it from she did not know and did not want o know. There were probably multiple psychological reasons, but they were not important to her.
She took Simon’s picture out and put Sam’s back in the frame. She set Simon on her pillow next to the hollow made by her head. “Goodnight, honey,” she said, and curled up next to him.
A flash, one thousand and one, a rumble.
She imagined his long arm wrapping around her and his body heating her own through her think silk nightgown. She could almost hear soothing, rhythmic snores before quickly fell asleep.
If you want more chapters, I want more critical reviews. This time I am requiring two before my next chapter is posted. Don't miss out on more of Rodney's suffering.