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Jul. 27th, 2005 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helsinkibabySince I wrote this for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wendywoo's birthday, I figure I might as well post it here as well... I don't think she'll mind!
Title: When All the World is Sleeping
Fandom: Stargate SG1/Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Janet Fraiser/Carson Beckett
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Cassie is late home
To say that Cassie is not looking forward to stepping through her front door would be to understate the matter quite a bit. Which is unusual, in that ever since she’s come to live on Earth, this house has been a haven for her, one of the very few places where she doesn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not. Over the last few years, when things have become too much for her, when she’s feeling at her very worst, all she’s had to do is remember what it was like to sit in the back seat of the car, coming up the driveway for the first time, seeing the most welcoming, cosiest home she could ever have imagined, remember the fun that she had decorating her room, how she and her mother and Sam had hidden their giggles as Daniel and Jack explained the concept of painting to Teal’c, Jack’s temper growing shorter with each passing question, his answers growing correspondingly shorter.
She’s always loved coming home to this house, but tonight, even though the lights are on in the living room, and the porch light shines above the door, it looks anything but welcoming.
Taking a look at her watch, Cassie sees that the universe has not answered her prayers, has not consented to turn the clock back an hour or two so that she can meet her curfew, and she knows, with her mother’s warnings ringing in her ears, that she’s in a whole lot of trouble. She runs through her story again – studying at Caroline’s house, huge French test, lost all track of time – and decides that it sounds plausible enough, and at least it doesn’t have any mention of Dominic, because that name alone would have her mother calling out the troops from Cheyenne Mountain –
Which she didn’t do tonight, which for the first time strikes Cassie as odd. After all, she had her cell phone with her – turned on to silent, of course, because who wants to be interrupted when they’re with their boyfriend? – but she checked it on her way home, and there were no messages on it, no missed calls from a worried mother.
Cassie’s not sure whether to be relieved or worried – after all, an absentee Janet can mean that the world is in imminent danger of destruction – but decides to stick with the former, sliding her key into the lock and stepping cautiously inside.
She’s as quiet as she can possibly be, but when she casts her eye towards the living room, she sees the reason why there were no calls on her phone, why her mother seems not to have noticed that she’s home well past her curfew. There are no alien threats, no injuries from a Goa’uld attack to worry about; instead, Janet Fraiser is stretched out on the couch, her breathing deep and even, eyes closed, a small smile playing about her lips.
What makes Cassie smile, though she knows there’s a part of her that should be recoiling in disgust, is that she’s not alone.
Stretched out underneath her, her head pillowed on his chest, is Carson Beckett, the doctor that Janet met at the SGC, the man who’s been spending more and more time here over the last few months. He’s holding Janet tightly, one arm around her shoulders, fingers just barely able to reach up to rest against her hair, his other hand resting on her hip, and there’s a smile on his face that matches Janet’s. Cassie can see the barest hint of a dimple in his cheek, and as she watches, he shifts slightly, sniffs loudly, and she thinks for a second that he’s going to wake up. She holds her breath, but he just settles back to sleep again, and she could be imagining it, but she thinks he pulls Janet just a little closer to him.
The sight makes Cassie’s smile broaden, and she laughs under her breath, because at any other time, she’d love to find the two of them together like this. She’d get great mileage out of teasing her mom about it, watching her face turn as red as her hair, and she might even drop a few hints to Jack or Sam about it, just to get them in on the act as well. She knows Carson would take it all in good humour as well; from the very first time she met him, she liked him, liked his straight-forward, no-nonsense demeanour. He didn’t try to ingratiate himself with her, wasn’t over-friendly, didn’t talk down to her like some of the guys that Janet had dated in the past. He’d just come into the living room, Janet having banished him from the kitchen as she cooked, sat down on the chair across from Cassie, who had, as per her usual method of measuring the mettle of Janet’s suitors, steadfastly ignored him, waiting for him to speak first. She’d looked at him out of the corner of her eye, seen that he was staring at the television with a perplexed look on his face, but she hadn’t changed the channel. Then he’d said the magical words that had charmed her forever.
“That Dawson chap’s got a very big forehead… I don’t think that’s normal.”
Surprised, she’d laughed, and by the time Janet joined them, a slightly amazed expression on her face, the two of them were talking like they’d known one another for years. Cassie was sure she heard Janet whisper to Carson before he left that night, “What did you say to her?” in a tone of amazement, and she still remembers the blush that had stolen across her mother’s cheeks when she’d told her the next morning, “He’s a keeper Mom.”
Nothing she’s seen over the last few months has changed Cassie’s mind about that, and standing here now, looking at the two of them, she’s already picking out the colour of her bridesmaid’s dress.
“Are ye gonna stand there all night lass, or are ye going to bed?”
The voice, whispered though it is, makes her jump, and there’s a flash of amusement in the blue slits that are Carson’s eyes. She opens her mouth to make an excuse, but he speaks before she can.
“We’ll not mention this to your mother… unless you wake her… but we’ll talk about it ourselves in the morning, aye?”
It’s unmistakeably not a question, and Cassie nods, accepting the favour for what it is. “Night Carson,” she whispers, turning on her heel, heading for her bedroom.
“Night lass,” he whispers after her, and she knows that he’s going to be asleep before she’s reached her bedroom door. Gambling on as much, she turns back to take one more look at them, for some reason wanting to impress the picture into her memory.
That much done, she leaves them to their slumber, trying to decide what would suit her better, lavender or teal. She’s still trying to decide, still smiling, as she falls asleep.
wendywoo's birthday, I figure I might as well post it here as well... I don't think she'll mind!Title: When All the World is Sleeping
Fandom: Stargate SG1/Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Janet Fraiser/Carson Beckett
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Cassie is late home
To say that Cassie is not looking forward to stepping through her front door would be to understate the matter quite a bit. Which is unusual, in that ever since she’s come to live on Earth, this house has been a haven for her, one of the very few places where she doesn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not. Over the last few years, when things have become too much for her, when she’s feeling at her very worst, all she’s had to do is remember what it was like to sit in the back seat of the car, coming up the driveway for the first time, seeing the most welcoming, cosiest home she could ever have imagined, remember the fun that she had decorating her room, how she and her mother and Sam had hidden their giggles as Daniel and Jack explained the concept of painting to Teal’c, Jack’s temper growing shorter with each passing question, his answers growing correspondingly shorter.
She’s always loved coming home to this house, but tonight, even though the lights are on in the living room, and the porch light shines above the door, it looks anything but welcoming.
Taking a look at her watch, Cassie sees that the universe has not answered her prayers, has not consented to turn the clock back an hour or two so that she can meet her curfew, and she knows, with her mother’s warnings ringing in her ears, that she’s in a whole lot of trouble. She runs through her story again – studying at Caroline’s house, huge French test, lost all track of time – and decides that it sounds plausible enough, and at least it doesn’t have any mention of Dominic, because that name alone would have her mother calling out the troops from Cheyenne Mountain –
Which she didn’t do tonight, which for the first time strikes Cassie as odd. After all, she had her cell phone with her – turned on to silent, of course, because who wants to be interrupted when they’re with their boyfriend? – but she checked it on her way home, and there were no messages on it, no missed calls from a worried mother.
Cassie’s not sure whether to be relieved or worried – after all, an absentee Janet can mean that the world is in imminent danger of destruction – but decides to stick with the former, sliding her key into the lock and stepping cautiously inside.
She’s as quiet as she can possibly be, but when she casts her eye towards the living room, she sees the reason why there were no calls on her phone, why her mother seems not to have noticed that she’s home well past her curfew. There are no alien threats, no injuries from a Goa’uld attack to worry about; instead, Janet Fraiser is stretched out on the couch, her breathing deep and even, eyes closed, a small smile playing about her lips.
What makes Cassie smile, though she knows there’s a part of her that should be recoiling in disgust, is that she’s not alone.
Stretched out underneath her, her head pillowed on his chest, is Carson Beckett, the doctor that Janet met at the SGC, the man who’s been spending more and more time here over the last few months. He’s holding Janet tightly, one arm around her shoulders, fingers just barely able to reach up to rest against her hair, his other hand resting on her hip, and there’s a smile on his face that matches Janet’s. Cassie can see the barest hint of a dimple in his cheek, and as she watches, he shifts slightly, sniffs loudly, and she thinks for a second that he’s going to wake up. She holds her breath, but he just settles back to sleep again, and she could be imagining it, but she thinks he pulls Janet just a little closer to him.
The sight makes Cassie’s smile broaden, and she laughs under her breath, because at any other time, she’d love to find the two of them together like this. She’d get great mileage out of teasing her mom about it, watching her face turn as red as her hair, and she might even drop a few hints to Jack or Sam about it, just to get them in on the act as well. She knows Carson would take it all in good humour as well; from the very first time she met him, she liked him, liked his straight-forward, no-nonsense demeanour. He didn’t try to ingratiate himself with her, wasn’t over-friendly, didn’t talk down to her like some of the guys that Janet had dated in the past. He’d just come into the living room, Janet having banished him from the kitchen as she cooked, sat down on the chair across from Cassie, who had, as per her usual method of measuring the mettle of Janet’s suitors, steadfastly ignored him, waiting for him to speak first. She’d looked at him out of the corner of her eye, seen that he was staring at the television with a perplexed look on his face, but she hadn’t changed the channel. Then he’d said the magical words that had charmed her forever.
“That Dawson chap’s got a very big forehead… I don’t think that’s normal.”
Surprised, she’d laughed, and by the time Janet joined them, a slightly amazed expression on her face, the two of them were talking like they’d known one another for years. Cassie was sure she heard Janet whisper to Carson before he left that night, “What did you say to her?” in a tone of amazement, and she still remembers the blush that had stolen across her mother’s cheeks when she’d told her the next morning, “He’s a keeper Mom.”
Nothing she’s seen over the last few months has changed Cassie’s mind about that, and standing here now, looking at the two of them, she’s already picking out the colour of her bridesmaid’s dress.
“Are ye gonna stand there all night lass, or are ye going to bed?”
The voice, whispered though it is, makes her jump, and there’s a flash of amusement in the blue slits that are Carson’s eyes. She opens her mouth to make an excuse, but he speaks before she can.
“We’ll not mention this to your mother… unless you wake her… but we’ll talk about it ourselves in the morning, aye?”
It’s unmistakeably not a question, and Cassie nods, accepting the favour for what it is. “Night Carson,” she whispers, turning on her heel, heading for her bedroom.
“Night lass,” he whispers after her, and she knows that he’s going to be asleep before she’s reached her bedroom door. Gambling on as much, she turns back to take one more look at them, for some reason wanting to impress the picture into her memory.
That much done, she leaves them to their slumber, trying to decide what would suit her better, lavender or teal. She’s still trying to decide, still smiling, as she falls asleep.
