SGA: A Festive Right (Elizabeth/Katie)
Written for The First Annual Elizabeth Weir Drabble-a-Thon, as organized by medie.
Title: A Festive Right
Author: voleuse
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Elizabeth Weir/Katie Brown
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Wholly at odds with the claims of reasonable gloom.
Notes: Pre-series
Elizabeth took a breath and leaned back on her elbows, reveling in the shift of earth beneath her body. The glare of light in her eyes was a false promise, she knew--Cheyenne Mountain's botany labs were all clever mirrors and glass miracles. She closed her eyes and pretended she hadn't been trapped in trade negotiations for the past seven hours.
"These laboratories are off-limit to visitors, you know." Elizabeth blinked, and the shadow she found hovering above her stepped back and became a woman. "Diplomats included."
"Ah, well." Elizabeth stood, brushing blades of grass from her slacks. "If it helps, you can pretend I'm just a linguist in disguise."
The woman laughed, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure how that makes things better."
"Certainly more exciting." Elizabeth smiled. "I'm sorry. It just gets so tiring, being trapped in conference rooms for hours on end."
"It's why I trained as a botanist. My name's Katie, by the way." The woman extended a hand, and for a moment, their fingers entwined. "Katie Brown."
"Elizabeth Weir. Tell me, Doctor Brown--"
"Katie."
Elizabeth smiled. "Katie. Tell me, has the cafeteria improved since the last time I was here?"
*
The next day, when Elizabeth made her way to the botany lab, she found a croissant, a worn copy of Persuasion, and a note from Katie waiting on her spot.
Even botanists don't get to play outside all day, the note said. I'm meeting with some biochemists about gene sequencing. Long story. Dinner?
Elizabeth spent her break half-interested in Anne Elliot's regret, but when she left the lab, the only sign remaining was the note, where on its other side, she had scribbled, Yes.
*
As they drove through town, they talked about spontaneous human combustion in Dickensian times, and it was the most ridiculous and wonderful conversation Elizabeth had had in the past week. Then, Katie pulled to the curb on the outskirts of a park. Elizabeth slid out of the car and fought the urge to tug on her skirt's hem. "I'm confused."
"I'm a botanist who lives in a mountain," Katie said, walking around the car. "When I can see real trees, I do." She opened her trunk and pulled out a bottle of wine and two plastic cups. "Could you grab the blanket?"
Elizabeth complied, shaking her head. "I'm still confused," she noted.
Then a station wagon advertising pizza delivery pulled up.
Elizabeth burst into laughter.
"What can I say?" Katie smiled, and even in the lamplight, it was dazzling. "I'm a romantic."
While Katie paid for the pizza, Elizabeth tossed her shoes into the trunk of the car. She felt the earth scratch her feet through the web of her nylons, and she spread the blanket just outside a nearby circle of lamplight, just inside the shadow of a tree. She took a deep gulp of air. When Katie settled on the blanket beside her, she poured the wine, and they looked at the stars.
###
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Denise Levertov's Celebration. Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.
Originally posted here.
Title: A Festive Right
Author: voleuse
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Elizabeth Weir/Katie Brown
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Wholly at odds with the claims of reasonable gloom.
Notes: Pre-series
Elizabeth took a breath and leaned back on her elbows, reveling in the shift of earth beneath her body. The glare of light in her eyes was a false promise, she knew--Cheyenne Mountain's botany labs were all clever mirrors and glass miracles. She closed her eyes and pretended she hadn't been trapped in trade negotiations for the past seven hours.
"These laboratories are off-limit to visitors, you know." Elizabeth blinked, and the shadow she found hovering above her stepped back and became a woman. "Diplomats included."
"Ah, well." Elizabeth stood, brushing blades of grass from her slacks. "If it helps, you can pretend I'm just a linguist in disguise."
The woman laughed, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure how that makes things better."
"Certainly more exciting." Elizabeth smiled. "I'm sorry. It just gets so tiring, being trapped in conference rooms for hours on end."
"It's why I trained as a botanist. My name's Katie, by the way." The woman extended a hand, and for a moment, their fingers entwined. "Katie Brown."
"Elizabeth Weir. Tell me, Doctor Brown--"
"Katie."
Elizabeth smiled. "Katie. Tell me, has the cafeteria improved since the last time I was here?"
*
The next day, when Elizabeth made her way to the botany lab, she found a croissant, a worn copy of Persuasion, and a note from Katie waiting on her spot.
Even botanists don't get to play outside all day, the note said. I'm meeting with some biochemists about gene sequencing. Long story. Dinner?
Elizabeth spent her break half-interested in Anne Elliot's regret, but when she left the lab, the only sign remaining was the note, where on its other side, she had scribbled, Yes.
*
As they drove through town, they talked about spontaneous human combustion in Dickensian times, and it was the most ridiculous and wonderful conversation Elizabeth had had in the past week. Then, Katie pulled to the curb on the outskirts of a park. Elizabeth slid out of the car and fought the urge to tug on her skirt's hem. "I'm confused."
"I'm a botanist who lives in a mountain," Katie said, walking around the car. "When I can see real trees, I do." She opened her trunk and pulled out a bottle of wine and two plastic cups. "Could you grab the blanket?"
Elizabeth complied, shaking her head. "I'm still confused," she noted.
Then a station wagon advertising pizza delivery pulled up.
Elizabeth burst into laughter.
"What can I say?" Katie smiled, and even in the lamplight, it was dazzling. "I'm a romantic."
While Katie paid for the pizza, Elizabeth tossed her shoes into the trunk of the car. She felt the earth scratch her feet through the web of her nylons, and she spread the blanket just outside a nearby circle of lamplight, just inside the shadow of a tree. She took a deep gulp of air. When Katie settled on the blanket beside her, she poured the wine, and they looked at the stars.
###
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Denise Levertov's Celebration. Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.
Originally posted here.