Atlantis Fic: "Sand and Saltwater"
Aug. 19th, 2004 12:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icepixieI came this close to calling it "Just Beachy." HarveyNick is eeeeeevil.
DISCLAIMER: MGM owns my soul, man. So does Gekko, Universal, and anyone else with legal claim to these characters. I'm just playing around and making no money off of this.
FEEDBACK/ARCHIVING: Both are welcome. Just drop me a note to let me know where it's going (author1[at]comcast[dot]net).
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Sheppard/Weir
CATEGORY: Complete fluff. Like cotton candy.
SPOILERS: Ever, ever, ever so vague for "Suspicion."
SUMMARY: Atlantis folks. At the beach. In swimsuits. Ooooh...
NOTES: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trickster_, tarzanic, and theusual, who demanded requested something along these lines.
"Sand and Saltwater"
by Icepixie, August 2004
* * *
It wasn't *exactly* like an Earth beach. For one thing, the water had sort of a purplish tinge that was absent back on their planet of origin. For another, despite the perfect weather, soft white sand, and, in John's words, "sweet breakers," they were the only people there. There was none of the human detritus that one usually found in such places--no coke cans with the coloring worn off the aluminum by saltwater, no cigarette butts, no forgotten towels or sandals. In Atlantis, there had been evidence of life left behind--the dead plants she'd complained about to Grodin, for example, and the experiments and prototypes they'd found and, in some cases, used for themselves. Some--not her--had found a few scattered personal effects in their quarters as well: a stray hair clip, something that had to be the Ancient equivalent of a GameBoy, a little cloth doll. Sometimes, in the right light, it looked like the former inhabitants of the city had just stepped out for lunch. Here, it was clear that they were the first people to lay eyes on this place in a long, long time. She wasn't sure which was spookier.
But melancholy wasn't what they were there for, and Elizabeth shoved her gloomy thoughts away. The sun and the breeze off the water were already doing much to take away the tension that had settled across her shoulders and in her stomach during the last six months. She spread out her towel and sat down, then took out the animal-skin pouch that Teyla had given her. Like most of the expedition team, Elizabeth had kept the legend about Atlantis being under the sea in the back of her mind and, rather optimistically, had packed a swimsuit, a relatively modest blue and green bikini. Unfortunately, no one had remembered to pack sunscreen. Teyla had assured them that the butter-like substance her people used would serve the same purpose. Elizabeth hoped that this was indeed the case, or else she would resemble a lobster by the end of the day.
"Need some help?" Elizabeth quit trying to tie herself in a knot in the quest to reach her back and looked up. It was John, of course. An amused grin was playing on his lips.
"Well, since you're here..." She handed him the pouch. He knelt on the sand and began to swirl a dab of the "sunscreen" between her shoulders.
To keep her mind off the fact that his touching her really felt quite nice, Elizabeth tried to make conversation. "I'm surprised you aren't already in the water."
His fingers dipped under one of the straps of the bikini top, and Elizabeth drew in an quick breath. "Ford's explaining the finer points of surfing to Teyla. I thought I'd let him have a minute before dragging him away."
Elizabeth grinned. "So you do have a hidden romantic streak."
She felt him lean in closer, and then his breath on her ear as he spoke. "It doesn't have to stay hidden, you know."
She was this close to turning her head and making him deliver on that suggestion, but Ford called across the sand. "Major Sheppard! Ready when you are!"
The spell was effectively broken, and it was probably for the best. "I'll be right there!" John stood up, his hand lingering on her back a bit longer than strictly necessary. "You'll be sure to watch and be impressed, right?" he asked.
She snorted delicately. "Sure. Just don't drown yourself trying to get my attention."
He gave her that incorrigible flyboy grin before trotting off to join Ford at the water's edge. She was pretty sure she didn't want to know what they'd used to make those surfboards, or where they'd found the time to put them together. Just as long as everything vital was still running when they came back...
She briefly surveyed the beach. Roughly a quarter of the inhabitants of Atlantis had come on this trip--they didn't want to leave the city too understaffed at any one time--and they all looked to be having a good time. She was glad she'd let John talk her into authorizing it and then into coming along herself. Contented, she leaned back on her elbows and gazed out over the ocean.
* * *
The warmth of the sun must have sent her right off to sleep, because the last thing she could remember was John having a spectacular wipeout about three seconds after he'd stood up on his board, and now he was standing over her. Flicking water on her face.
Elizabeth opened her eyes and immediately glared at him. "John..."
There was that grin again. "You're at the *beach*. You have to get a little wet."
"Later. It's nice here in the sun." She stretched, catching the appreciative way John's gaze traveled down her body. She'd packed the bikini mostly because it took up less space than the old one-piece suit she had, but now she was discovering other advantages it conferred.
After getting the little kinks out of her back, she sat up and patted the now-empty half of the towel.
He took the hint and sat down. "So I take it our tricks weren't good enough to keep you from your nap."
"I honestly did try to stay awake."
"You missed a good show. Those breakers?" He pointed at the whitecaps rolling in. "Maybe not quite as good as some spots in Australia, but definitely not bad--*if* you have the skills to take advantage of them."
Elizabeth smirked. "I'm sure."
John mimed an arrow to his heart. "Ouch."
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the waves crash against the shore, not feeling the desire to fill the space with talk just yet. Elizabeth had picked a spot a little ways away from most of the others, and they were facing away from the biggest part of the group. The only figure on the sand that they could see was that of Lieutenant Mason, who was collecting shells as she walked slowly down the beach.
"This was a good idea," Elizabeth finally said. "I'm glad you were so persistent in getting me to come."
"Hey, the boss lady needs to relax once in a while, too," he said, poking her gently in the side.
She stuck out her tongue at him, and soon they were both laughing. The sun was making her a little punch drunk. Enough so that she didn't just think about running her fingers through his wet hair (which was sticking up in all directions in a way that she found utterly adorable), but actually did it. He gave her a look she couldn't decipher, and then--oh. Hey. *This* was nice.
His lips held the tang of salt, and his perpetual stubble tickled her nose. Her hand was still tangled in his hair, that and the other hand that she didn't remember putting on his back now pulling him closer. She felt his hands resting on her own back, even warmer on her skin than the bright sun that was shining down. She had thought about this more often than she would care to admit, at least to him, and so far, this kiss was doing a good job of leaving her half-formed imaginings in the dust.
All too quickly, reality intruded in the form of a cheer that sounded suspiciously like Ford's. John and Elizabeth immediately separated, and a deep red blush spread over Elizabeth's cheeks at the sight of almost everyone staring at them, scattered cheers and applause coming from a few. "Oh, my God," she whispered, ducking her head so that her hair fell over her eyes.
"Hey." John placed two fingers under her chin and gently tilted her head back up. "It's okay. Look." She glanced back at the crowd a few yards away, and indeed, the three or four who were still paying them any attention all had indulgent smiles on their faces. She felt herself blush again. Damn her pale complexion.
John's lips turned up. "Your freckles are standing out," he said in response to the silent question in her eyes. "Remind me to embarrass you more often."
"I hate you, you know that?"
"Didn't seem like it a minute ago..."
"Ah-ah." She put a finger to his lips. "If you ever want a repeat of that, you should stop while you're ahead."
His eyes widened slightly. "Yes, ma'am," he said when she brought her hand back to her lap.
Elizabeth stood up then, John following close behind. "Well," she said, "I believe someone once told me that when I'm at the beach, I should get wet. Care to join me?"
"Oh, yeah." They began walking towards the water, close enough so that their fingers brushed every once in a while, but otherwise not touching. Whatever had just passed between them was still new and fragile, and both felt the need to give it room to breathe.
They reached the edge, and Elizabeth plunged straight into the ocean, the coolness of the water raising goosebumps all over her skin. John hesitated a bit after he'd gone in up to his knees; he remembered exactly how cold that water became when one was in up to the neck, and he wasn't entirely eager to repeat the experience.
He failed to notice the downright evil grin on Elizabeth's face before it was too late; in the proverbial blink of an eye, he felt her hand in his and then he was underwater. He came up sputtering, and glared at the smirking woman floating next to him. "You're goin' down," he informed her. She shrieked and raced away as he grabbed for any body part he could reach. He chased after her, determined to give her as good a dunking as she'd given him. Air that hadn't been disturbed for millions of years was quickly filled with their laughter, and seemed all the brighter for it.
End
DISCLAIMER: MGM owns my soul, man. So does Gekko, Universal, and anyone else with legal claim to these characters. I'm just playing around and making no money off of this.
FEEDBACK/ARCHIVING: Both are welcome. Just drop me a note to let me know where it's going (author1[at]comcast[dot]net).
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Sheppard/Weir
CATEGORY: Complete fluff. Like cotton candy.
SPOILERS: Ever, ever, ever so vague for "Suspicion."
SUMMARY: Atlantis folks. At the beach. In swimsuits. Ooooh...
NOTES: For
trickster_, tarzanic, and theusual, who "Sand and Saltwater"
by Icepixie, August 2004
* * *
It wasn't *exactly* like an Earth beach. For one thing, the water had sort of a purplish tinge that was absent back on their planet of origin. For another, despite the perfect weather, soft white sand, and, in John's words, "sweet breakers," they were the only people there. There was none of the human detritus that one usually found in such places--no coke cans with the coloring worn off the aluminum by saltwater, no cigarette butts, no forgotten towels or sandals. In Atlantis, there had been evidence of life left behind--the dead plants she'd complained about to Grodin, for example, and the experiments and prototypes they'd found and, in some cases, used for themselves. Some--not her--had found a few scattered personal effects in their quarters as well: a stray hair clip, something that had to be the Ancient equivalent of a GameBoy, a little cloth doll. Sometimes, in the right light, it looked like the former inhabitants of the city had just stepped out for lunch. Here, it was clear that they were the first people to lay eyes on this place in a long, long time. She wasn't sure which was spookier.
But melancholy wasn't what they were there for, and Elizabeth shoved her gloomy thoughts away. The sun and the breeze off the water were already doing much to take away the tension that had settled across her shoulders and in her stomach during the last six months. She spread out her towel and sat down, then took out the animal-skin pouch that Teyla had given her. Like most of the expedition team, Elizabeth had kept the legend about Atlantis being under the sea in the back of her mind and, rather optimistically, had packed a swimsuit, a relatively modest blue and green bikini. Unfortunately, no one had remembered to pack sunscreen. Teyla had assured them that the butter-like substance her people used would serve the same purpose. Elizabeth hoped that this was indeed the case, or else she would resemble a lobster by the end of the day.
"Need some help?" Elizabeth quit trying to tie herself in a knot in the quest to reach her back and looked up. It was John, of course. An amused grin was playing on his lips.
"Well, since you're here..." She handed him the pouch. He knelt on the sand and began to swirl a dab of the "sunscreen" between her shoulders.
To keep her mind off the fact that his touching her really felt quite nice, Elizabeth tried to make conversation. "I'm surprised you aren't already in the water."
His fingers dipped under one of the straps of the bikini top, and Elizabeth drew in an quick breath. "Ford's explaining the finer points of surfing to Teyla. I thought I'd let him have a minute before dragging him away."
Elizabeth grinned. "So you do have a hidden romantic streak."
She felt him lean in closer, and then his breath on her ear as he spoke. "It doesn't have to stay hidden, you know."
She was this close to turning her head and making him deliver on that suggestion, but Ford called across the sand. "Major Sheppard! Ready when you are!"
The spell was effectively broken, and it was probably for the best. "I'll be right there!" John stood up, his hand lingering on her back a bit longer than strictly necessary. "You'll be sure to watch and be impressed, right?" he asked.
She snorted delicately. "Sure. Just don't drown yourself trying to get my attention."
He gave her that incorrigible flyboy grin before trotting off to join Ford at the water's edge. She was pretty sure she didn't want to know what they'd used to make those surfboards, or where they'd found the time to put them together. Just as long as everything vital was still running when they came back...
She briefly surveyed the beach. Roughly a quarter of the inhabitants of Atlantis had come on this trip--they didn't want to leave the city too understaffed at any one time--and they all looked to be having a good time. She was glad she'd let John talk her into authorizing it and then into coming along herself. Contented, she leaned back on her elbows and gazed out over the ocean.
* * *
The warmth of the sun must have sent her right off to sleep, because the last thing she could remember was John having a spectacular wipeout about three seconds after he'd stood up on his board, and now he was standing over her. Flicking water on her face.
Elizabeth opened her eyes and immediately glared at him. "John..."
There was that grin again. "You're at the *beach*. You have to get a little wet."
"Later. It's nice here in the sun." She stretched, catching the appreciative way John's gaze traveled down her body. She'd packed the bikini mostly because it took up less space than the old one-piece suit she had, but now she was discovering other advantages it conferred.
After getting the little kinks out of her back, she sat up and patted the now-empty half of the towel.
He took the hint and sat down. "So I take it our tricks weren't good enough to keep you from your nap."
"I honestly did try to stay awake."
"You missed a good show. Those breakers?" He pointed at the whitecaps rolling in. "Maybe not quite as good as some spots in Australia, but definitely not bad--*if* you have the skills to take advantage of them."
Elizabeth smirked. "I'm sure."
John mimed an arrow to his heart. "Ouch."
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the waves crash against the shore, not feeling the desire to fill the space with talk just yet. Elizabeth had picked a spot a little ways away from most of the others, and they were facing away from the biggest part of the group. The only figure on the sand that they could see was that of Lieutenant Mason, who was collecting shells as she walked slowly down the beach.
"This was a good idea," Elizabeth finally said. "I'm glad you were so persistent in getting me to come."
"Hey, the boss lady needs to relax once in a while, too," he said, poking her gently in the side.
She stuck out her tongue at him, and soon they were both laughing. The sun was making her a little punch drunk. Enough so that she didn't just think about running her fingers through his wet hair (which was sticking up in all directions in a way that she found utterly adorable), but actually did it. He gave her a look she couldn't decipher, and then--oh. Hey. *This* was nice.
His lips held the tang of salt, and his perpetual stubble tickled her nose. Her hand was still tangled in his hair, that and the other hand that she didn't remember putting on his back now pulling him closer. She felt his hands resting on her own back, even warmer on her skin than the bright sun that was shining down. She had thought about this more often than she would care to admit, at least to him, and so far, this kiss was doing a good job of leaving her half-formed imaginings in the dust.
All too quickly, reality intruded in the form of a cheer that sounded suspiciously like Ford's. John and Elizabeth immediately separated, and a deep red blush spread over Elizabeth's cheeks at the sight of almost everyone staring at them, scattered cheers and applause coming from a few. "Oh, my God," she whispered, ducking her head so that her hair fell over her eyes.
"Hey." John placed two fingers under her chin and gently tilted her head back up. "It's okay. Look." She glanced back at the crowd a few yards away, and indeed, the three or four who were still paying them any attention all had indulgent smiles on their faces. She felt herself blush again. Damn her pale complexion.
John's lips turned up. "Your freckles are standing out," he said in response to the silent question in her eyes. "Remind me to embarrass you more often."
"I hate you, you know that?"
"Didn't seem like it a minute ago..."
"Ah-ah." She put a finger to his lips. "If you ever want a repeat of that, you should stop while you're ahead."
His eyes widened slightly. "Yes, ma'am," he said when she brought her hand back to her lap.
Elizabeth stood up then, John following close behind. "Well," she said, "I believe someone once told me that when I'm at the beach, I should get wet. Care to join me?"
"Oh, yeah." They began walking towards the water, close enough so that their fingers brushed every once in a while, but otherwise not touching. Whatever had just passed between them was still new and fragile, and both felt the need to give it room to breathe.
They reached the edge, and Elizabeth plunged straight into the ocean, the coolness of the water raising goosebumps all over her skin. John hesitated a bit after he'd gone in up to his knees; he remembered exactly how cold that water became when one was in up to the neck, and he wasn't entirely eager to repeat the experience.
He failed to notice the downright evil grin on Elizabeth's face before it was too late; in the proverbial blink of an eye, he felt her hand in his and then he was underwater. He came up sputtering, and glared at the smirking woman floating next to him. "You're goin' down," he informed her. She shrieked and raced away as he grabbed for any body part he could reach. He chased after her, determined to give her as good a dunking as she'd given him. Air that hadn't been disturbed for millions of years was quickly filled with their laughter, and seemed all the brighter for it.
End
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Date: 2004-08-23 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 11:24 pm (UTC)