Carpe Noctem (Charlotte, PG)
Title: Carpe Noctem
Author: cloudytea
Characters: Charlotte Lewis, Daniel Faraday. Mentions of Miles, Frank, and Eloise.
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 6 spoilers. Mention of character death.
Summary: She smiles and seizes the opportunity they never had. 821 words. For valhalla37.
Beautiful night, Charlotte notes, approaching the man leaning against the railing.
He is flipping through a notebook frantically, his lips making silent movements, as if he was making mental notes They were traveling at a steady fifteen knots, having lost sight of the northeastern coast just before sundown.
I remember when I was a girl, she continues, peering up at the bright silver orbs that littered the sky. I used to count all the stars in the sky. Never made it very far, of course. She looks over at the man and notices he hasn’t said a word. Excuse me, Daniel is it?
He simply nods and continues to skim his notes.
Alright, Daniel. Just a hint: when someone is addressing you, it’s usually polite to answer.
He looks up for the first time and sighs heavily. Charlotte, right?
The sound of her name sounds exhausted on his tongue, but then again every word did.
Well, Charlotte…You see those stars up there? He lifts his hand and with the pen in his grasp, he motions upwards. Most of those ball of energy are years -- millions of years -- old. Everything you see is a reflection and an example of how the speed of light versus the darkness of outer space. Most of them are dead. You are simply seeing the last of their light travel through the universe from a nonexistent source. Your attempts at counting the every single star in the sky is not only mindless. It’s impossible.
He looks up to find her simply staring at him, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide enough to encompass the entire night sky.
I, uh, sorry. I don’t like to be bothered much. You know, he shrugs his shoulders. From one Oxford alumnus to another.
She is staring at him, dumbfounded. She isn’t sure if she is appalled or awe-struck. Yeah, yeah, no. It’s fine, uh. Yeah. Enjoy your notes, Daniel.
As she pushes herself off the railing and disappears into the shadows of the upper decks, Daniel glances over his shoulder for any signs of life. He takes a deep breath when he doesn’t see the bright-eyed redhead.
The next day, Charlotte is twirling her fork through a mess of casserole while leaning her chin on her hand. Miles and Frank argue about something over their umpteenth round of Texas Hold ’Em. The small galley isn’t crowded, but then again there weren’t more than two dozen crew members aboard anyways.
As she is about to dose off into her food, the chair next to her is pulled out from the table and someone sits down, plate in hand, no notebook in sight.
Beautiful morning, he mutters to her, but she smiles. It’s been raining since just after midnight and isn’t showing any signs of letting up.
So, you went to Oxford? she notes, breaking the tension between them.
Yeah, I uh, my mother…She…wanted me to go. Actually, I got a scholarship, but…She wanted me to go. Thought it was better than what the American schools had to offer, I guess.
What’s your graduating class?
Uh, ‘96.
Oh, really? Same here! Went for my graduate studies. I never saw you around, though.
Big school. Different majors. I’m sure physics and anthropology majors didn’t mingle much.
Yeah, I suppose not.
They start to talk and find they are much more different than she originally thought: he grew up in some suburban town in America, she in the intercity of London. He was an only child, he was the eldest of three girls. But, he didn’t have a father. And neither did she. His mother pushed him to do many things, while her own could bite her nails clean off if she hadn’t returned from the market within the hour.
It isn’t long before she asks if he would ever like to catch some dinner sometime, whenever they get back from this trip.
He is nervous now and shrugs his shoulders. Why would you want to do that?
She smiles at him. You know. Anthropologists and physicists mingling? Making up for loss time, I suppose.
And little did Charlotte know, time is fragile, precious. Limited. And she wouldn’t realize this until it’s too late, when the memories of her youth weigh her to the ground like cement blocks as blood flows from her nose like ruby red from a bottle of aged wine.
As she closes her eyes for the final time, she wonders what she will see when she wakes. When she wakes. If she wakes.
And she does. Time seems to stand still when she sees him again at the concert. She smiles. He nods.
Hi, Charlotte. I’m --
Daniel. She steals the words right out of his mouth.
Would you like to, uh, catch some dinner? After the show? His voice is rickety and matches his movements.
She smiles and seizes the opportunity they never had.
I’d love to, Dan.
Author: cloudytea
Characters: Charlotte Lewis, Daniel Faraday. Mentions of Miles, Frank, and Eloise.
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 6 spoilers. Mention of character death.
Summary: She smiles and seizes the opportunity they never had. 821 words. For valhalla37.
Beautiful night, Charlotte notes, approaching the man leaning against the railing.
He is flipping through a notebook frantically, his lips making silent movements, as if he was making mental notes They were traveling at a steady fifteen knots, having lost sight of the northeastern coast just before sundown.
I remember when I was a girl, she continues, peering up at the bright silver orbs that littered the sky. I used to count all the stars in the sky. Never made it very far, of course. She looks over at the man and notices he hasn’t said a word. Excuse me, Daniel is it?
He simply nods and continues to skim his notes.
Alright, Daniel. Just a hint: when someone is addressing you, it’s usually polite to answer.
He looks up for the first time and sighs heavily. Charlotte, right?
The sound of her name sounds exhausted on his tongue, but then again every word did.
Well, Charlotte…You see those stars up there? He lifts his hand and with the pen in his grasp, he motions upwards. Most of those ball of energy are years -- millions of years -- old. Everything you see is a reflection and an example of how the speed of light versus the darkness of outer space. Most of them are dead. You are simply seeing the last of their light travel through the universe from a nonexistent source. Your attempts at counting the every single star in the sky is not only mindless. It’s impossible.
He looks up to find her simply staring at him, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide enough to encompass the entire night sky.
I, uh, sorry. I don’t like to be bothered much. You know, he shrugs his shoulders. From one Oxford alumnus to another.
She is staring at him, dumbfounded. She isn’t sure if she is appalled or awe-struck. Yeah, yeah, no. It’s fine, uh. Yeah. Enjoy your notes, Daniel.
As she pushes herself off the railing and disappears into the shadows of the upper decks, Daniel glances over his shoulder for any signs of life. He takes a deep breath when he doesn’t see the bright-eyed redhead.
The next day, Charlotte is twirling her fork through a mess of casserole while leaning her chin on her hand. Miles and Frank argue about something over their umpteenth round of Texas Hold ’Em. The small galley isn’t crowded, but then again there weren’t more than two dozen crew members aboard anyways.
As she is about to dose off into her food, the chair next to her is pulled out from the table and someone sits down, plate in hand, no notebook in sight.
Beautiful morning, he mutters to her, but she smiles. It’s been raining since just after midnight and isn’t showing any signs of letting up.
So, you went to Oxford? she notes, breaking the tension between them.
Yeah, I uh, my mother…She…wanted me to go. Actually, I got a scholarship, but…She wanted me to go. Thought it was better than what the American schools had to offer, I guess.
What’s your graduating class?
Uh, ‘96.
Oh, really? Same here! Went for my graduate studies. I never saw you around, though.
Big school. Different majors. I’m sure physics and anthropology majors didn’t mingle much.
Yeah, I suppose not.
They start to talk and find they are much more different than she originally thought: he grew up in some suburban town in America, she in the intercity of London. He was an only child, he was the eldest of three girls. But, he didn’t have a father. And neither did she. His mother pushed him to do many things, while her own could bite her nails clean off if she hadn’t returned from the market within the hour.
It isn’t long before she asks if he would ever like to catch some dinner sometime, whenever they get back from this trip.
He is nervous now and shrugs his shoulders. Why would you want to do that?
She smiles at him. You know. Anthropologists and physicists mingling? Making up for loss time, I suppose.
And little did Charlotte know, time is fragile, precious. Limited. And she wouldn’t realize this until it’s too late, when the memories of her youth weigh her to the ground like cement blocks as blood flows from her nose like ruby red from a bottle of aged wine.
As she closes her eyes for the final time, she wonders what she will see when she wakes. When she wakes. If she wakes.
And she does. Time seems to stand still when she sees him again at the concert. She smiles. He nods.
Hi, Charlotte. I’m --
Daniel. She steals the words right out of his mouth.
Would you like to, uh, catch some dinner? After the show? His voice is rickety and matches his movements.
She smiles and seizes the opportunity they never had.
I’d love to, Dan.