MORE CARROTS FOR THE PLOTBUNNIES.

May 03, 2007 16:09

This was harder to write than I thought it would be. I kind of like how it turned out, though.

And what do you all think?

Extra points to the person who figures out the title reference. *winks*



************************

Lorne shook his head a few times, kind of hoping he only needed to clear his ears, and then sighed. “Oh, *Christ*. Why am I not terribly surprised?”

Parrish tried to smile. “Accidents with Ancient technology are more common than you might think,” he offered. “I had just started working with the SGC when it happened. It took them almost five years to figure out how to reverse it. By then, I’d been living as a woman for about four of those years.”

Lorne gulped. “I’m not sure . . . I don’t think I want to do that,” he said quietly. “God, Doc. That takes a hell of a lot of guts.”

Parrish shrugged. “I never felt particularly right in my body, anyway,” he admitted. “In my early twenties, I flirted with the idea of gender reassignment, but I didn’t have strong enough feelings to go through with it. Wasn’t *dedicated* enough,” he finished, almost sneering.

Lorne opened his mouth to speak, couldn’t even imagine what to say, and shut it again.

“The accident seemed like the perfect solution for me in a lot of ways,” Parrish continued, his voice soft and thoughtful. “No lengthy or complicated and painful surgery, just a flash and bang and there I was! All girl, all the time. It was like it was meant to be-I even started using a female first name.”

“Really?” Lorne asked doubtfully. “It was that easy for you?”

Parrish chuckled without any real humor. “I wouldn’t say *that*,” he admitted. “When I made my decision, the SGC arranged counseling for me, but traditional transgender therapy wasn’t terribly helpful for someone who one morning walked into a room as a man and walked out as a woman. And what made it worse was that I could hardly *explain* what had happened-it was the first time anything of the sort had occurred, and no one was prepared; none of the military psychologists were equipped for it.

“I had to fly into Las Vegas, twice a week-once for group, once for a solo session-to be sufficiently anonymous for the SGC’s satisfaction, with a military guard dressed in civilian clothes, pretending he was my brother, or something equally stupid. And then I had to sit in an office and try to figure out ways to discuss something that had never actually happened to me.”

Lorne couldn’t help cringing a bit at the thought of therapy. He avoided Heightmeyer assiduously, seeing her only for the annual psych eval, and that was plenty, thank you very much.

“The funny thing was, though,” Parrish went on pensively, “It took being turned into a woman to realize that I wanted to be a man.

“I was even more uncomfortable in a female body than in a male one. It went deeper than just the surface changes-oh, I was much more obviously female than you are, Major. I moved differently, my voice went up an octave, and somehow, I ended up being a few inches shorter than I am now, still skinny, and I had comparatively enormous breasts.”

Lorne tried to inject some levity into the situation and said cheerfully, “You must have been very popular with the guys.”

For his efforts, he received a look that reminded him that Parrish had already threatened to poison him once today. “I’m a homosexual man, Major. That doesn’t automatically translate into instantaneous comfort within a female body. I was still attracted to men, but everything with them felt wrong. My own body felt wrong.”

“Like your skin doesn’t fit right,” Lorne said, with a feeling of instant, almost blinding understanding. Thank God, *someone* understood what it was like!

“Like *nothing* fit right,” Parrish agreed, with feeling. “I ended up giving up sex altogether. It just wasn’t . . . it wasn’t *right*. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“But didn’t you-you know,” Lorne floundered a bit, then finished, all in a rush, “didn’t you get horny?”

Parrish’s smile, this time, looked more like a grimace. “The men I met only were interested in one thing, Major,” he said, residual anger heating his words. “I got tired of that rather quickly.”

“I’m sure it would have been different with someone you cared about,” Lorne offered, trying his best to make Parrish feel better.

He lifted his shoulders and stared at the floor. “Maybe,” he allowed. “I’d like to think so.”

“Someone who really cared about you would have been better,” Lorne decided firmly. He leaned forward and put one hand on Parrish’s knee, squeezing a little for emphasis. “You’re a good man, Doc.”

He moved away then, a little embarrassed by his own words. “I-um, you know, if it helps at all . . . I’ve been like this for almost a month, now, and I still haven’t worked up the nerve to try touching myself.”

Parrish raised an eyebrow in visible disbelief.

“What?” Lorne yelled, unreasonably irritated. “Okay, first of all-I’m not *that* much of a pig! Second-I’m gay, and I have less than no interest in touching girl parts, even if they happen to be attached to me at the moment! And third, the first time I’ve felt hot and bothered enough to even *want* to touch myself was when you were kissing me a few minutes ago!”

“Whoa,” Parrish said faintly, and blushed, staring at his hands where they clasped his left knee. “Wait . . . me? Kissing me-me?”

“Yes,” Lorne muttered bitterly. He glared up with suspicion and said, “You know, for someone who was so smooth when he was bent on seducing me, you sure have gone to pieces all of the sudden, Doc.”

Parrish shrugged, looking down and away, almost shyly. “Yes, well, I’ve always been at my best in situations when other people are nervous or uncomfortable or panicky,” he said. “It’s only when someone else takes control of the situation that I get awkward and start tripping over my own feet. Literally, in some cases, as you may remember.”

They shared a wry grin, both obviously recalling a mission during which Lorne had been barking out orders and actually leading Parrish around by the elbow. The one time the doctor had been left on his own, as Lorne recalled, he had taken two steps, tangled his feet together in the straps of his own pack, which had been resting nearby, and landed flat on his face.

Lorne rubbed his hands over his face and said, finally, “Okay. So, I’m sorry that I freaked out and practically kidnapped you from botany, especially given the misunderstanding regarding the reason. But, since you’re here, and now that you know everything anyway, and since obviously you have some experience in this area, do you think you could give me a hand?”

Parrish looked like he was thinking about it.

“Oh come on!” Lorne burst out, after he’d counted to ten. “How difficult can it be? Just say yes or no!”

“You are just too easy to bait, Major,” Parrish informed him, with a wicked sparkle in his eyes. “Of course, I’ll help. Although . . . you wouldn’t happen to have any cherry cola in there, would you?”

Lorne grinned, heart pounding with relief. “There are advantages to being the guy who compiles the orders for requisitioning,” he admitted. “I don’t have any right now, but I can get some on the next Daedalus run.”

Parrish smiled, and Lorne caught his breath. He’d never noticed before how Parrish’s entire face lit up when he smiled, like there was sunshine behind his skin. It made Evan feel warm all over again.

“Then I believe we have an arrangement, Major,” Parrish informed him, still with that heart-stopping smile.

************************

champagne like cherry cola, i ficced, fic, sga fic, lorne/parrish

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