A Natural Disaster 3
Title : A Natural Disaster Ch 3
Rating : PG13
Spoilers : thru S2
Disclaimer : Owned by BBC
Beta :
commodoreschick
Summary : Nature is unpredictable, an adventure set in Pete's world after Doomsday.
Previous parts : here at Teaspoon
A Natural Disaster
Chapter 3
Sweat ran down his face unheeded, falling into his eyes mixing with salty tears of exhaustion and grief before dripping off the end of his thin nose. Dusty, wet trails mapped uneven lines over his angular features, pooling below his chin, then crawled down his neck, sliding below his flannel shirt, and the material soaked up the sweat, creating dark stains covering front and back and clinging tightly to his gangly body like a second skin.
His chest heaving as he fought to gasp lungfuls of air, every breath searing his lungs, the heavy smoke instilled a harsh cough deep within him, and sent a spiking jolt of pain through his right side. His left arm pistoned up and over, bringing the thin blanket over his shoulder, dropping it onto the hungry flames, again and again, in a seemingly futile effort as the small blaze continued creeping just beyond his reach as he swathed an ashen path behind.
The pain in his right shoulder had long since developed into a deep throb, threatening to engulf him in blackness. He forced himself to continue amidst the pain, the hopelessness. He wouldn't stop, he couldn't stop. He owed them at least that much.
Behind him Max paced, silently. Tension visible throughout his lean body, his eyes warily shifting between the man and the chaotic environment, refusing to leave despite the overwhelming primal fear coursing through his blood. He stopped, lifted his nose into the air catching a faint scent, and turned towards another figure approaching.
++drwhodrwho++
Red converse trainers were propped on the very edge of the console. Long legs stretching across the open space, his body reclining in the wide captain's chair, arms folded across his chest rumpling the brown pinstriped suit, making it more disheveled. His tie hung loosely, undecided if it was coming on or off, and slightly tucked into the top of his half unbuttoned shirt.
His head was cocked to the side, eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. Thick brown hair in its usual state of mussed confusion lay haphazardly against his forehead and outlined his face, dark-rimmed glasses rested crookedly at the end of his nose.
The glowing green light bathed the open room in a minty pastel, as the central core rose and fell steadily. A relaxing hum reverberated quietly throughout the ship.
A mauve light cut through the dimness, persistently. A silent warning alarm, unnoticed by the prone figure.
++drwhodrwho++
The sound of laughter echoed down the hallway, unusual in the daily somber business normally conducted on the premises. The aged Colonel removed his hat, placing it under his left arm, still clutching a thin, metallic briefcase. Without hesitation, he strode with the air of authority towards the closed door where the noise issued from. His assistant, fumbling slightly in the attempt to reach the obstruction before his superior, was brushed off as the Colonel stepped into the room.
The first occupant sat with his back to him, legs propped upon the desk, animatedly waving his arms. "And then, all five of us are standing there, mouths open, no one willing to make the first move--" His voice faltered as he saw the look of surprise cross his audience's face. Glancing over his shoulder, he did a double take, leaping from his chair to face the visitors.
"Colonel, Sir!" He snapped to attention, surreptitiously sliding the drink onto the desk, and saluted the the other. The Colonel nodded, touched two fingers to his forehead in a lazy, half salute and tossed his briefcase onto the desk, laying his hat atop.
"Bit early in the day for celebrating?" The deep southern drawl accusing. Jack began to wonder, just how he was going to explain this.
"Well, Sir--"
"Shut up, Captain." Closing his mouth, Jack stared at a spot on the wall behind the officer. "And you," he directed his finger and glare at the junior officer behind him, "run along." Not needing to be told twice, the young man bolted for the door, and quickly closed it behind himself, shutting out the angry Colonel and his two culprits.
The Colonel, eyeballing Jack as he walked past him, giving him a quick once over, satisfied that the Captain would remain still, plonked himself into the other chair. Turning his attention to the silent witness behind the desk, he gave her a small smile. "How've you been Sam?" Jack saw a small shrug of shoulders from his periphal vision, pondering this strange turn of events, and smiling inwardly at learning her first name.
"Do you want a drink, Sir?" Stressing the last word like an angry jab, she stood and stepped out of his sight.
"Still upset with me, I see." The Colonel's voice had softened somewhat, yet Jack decided against moving for the time being. Instead, he acted like a silent stone vigil.
"Did you really expect me not to be?"
There was a slight pause, ice being dropped into a glass, the sound of a bottle, then a murmur of thanks. Sam reclaimed her seat, holding her own glass.
Minutes seemed to drag. No one spoke. The only sounds, of ice against glass as each person waited for the other. Jack could feel the tension mounting in the room, and patiently waited for the storm to break.
++drwhodrwho++
tbc
Rating : PG13
Spoilers : thru S2
Disclaimer : Owned by BBC
Beta :
commodoreschick
Summary : Nature is unpredictable, an adventure set in Pete's world after Doomsday.
Previous parts : here at Teaspoon
A Natural Disaster
Chapter 3
Sweat ran down his face unheeded, falling into his eyes mixing with salty tears of exhaustion and grief before dripping off the end of his thin nose. Dusty, wet trails mapped uneven lines over his angular features, pooling below his chin, then crawled down his neck, sliding below his flannel shirt, and the material soaked up the sweat, creating dark stains covering front and back and clinging tightly to his gangly body like a second skin.
His chest heaving as he fought to gasp lungfuls of air, every breath searing his lungs, the heavy smoke instilled a harsh cough deep within him, and sent a spiking jolt of pain through his right side. His left arm pistoned up and over, bringing the thin blanket over his shoulder, dropping it onto the hungry flames, again and again, in a seemingly futile effort as the small blaze continued creeping just beyond his reach as he swathed an ashen path behind.
The pain in his right shoulder had long since developed into a deep throb, threatening to engulf him in blackness. He forced himself to continue amidst the pain, the hopelessness. He wouldn't stop, he couldn't stop. He owed them at least that much.
Behind him Max paced, silently. Tension visible throughout his lean body, his eyes warily shifting between the man and the chaotic environment, refusing to leave despite the overwhelming primal fear coursing through his blood. He stopped, lifted his nose into the air catching a faint scent, and turned towards another figure approaching.
++drwhodrwho++
Red converse trainers were propped on the very edge of the console. Long legs stretching across the open space, his body reclining in the wide captain's chair, arms folded across his chest rumpling the brown pinstriped suit, making it more disheveled. His tie hung loosely, undecided if it was coming on or off, and slightly tucked into the top of his half unbuttoned shirt.
His head was cocked to the side, eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. Thick brown hair in its usual state of mussed confusion lay haphazardly against his forehead and outlined his face, dark-rimmed glasses rested crookedly at the end of his nose.
The glowing green light bathed the open room in a minty pastel, as the central core rose and fell steadily. A relaxing hum reverberated quietly throughout the ship.
A mauve light cut through the dimness, persistently. A silent warning alarm, unnoticed by the prone figure.
++drwhodrwho++
The sound of laughter echoed down the hallway, unusual in the daily somber business normally conducted on the premises. The aged Colonel removed his hat, placing it under his left arm, still clutching a thin, metallic briefcase. Without hesitation, he strode with the air of authority towards the closed door where the noise issued from. His assistant, fumbling slightly in the attempt to reach the obstruction before his superior, was brushed off as the Colonel stepped into the room.
The first occupant sat with his back to him, legs propped upon the desk, animatedly waving his arms. "And then, all five of us are standing there, mouths open, no one willing to make the first move--" His voice faltered as he saw the look of surprise cross his audience's face. Glancing over his shoulder, he did a double take, leaping from his chair to face the visitors.
"Colonel, Sir!" He snapped to attention, surreptitiously sliding the drink onto the desk, and saluted the the other. The Colonel nodded, touched two fingers to his forehead in a lazy, half salute and tossed his briefcase onto the desk, laying his hat atop.
"Bit early in the day for celebrating?" The deep southern drawl accusing. Jack began to wonder, just how he was going to explain this.
"Well, Sir--"
"Shut up, Captain." Closing his mouth, Jack stared at a spot on the wall behind the officer. "And you," he directed his finger and glare at the junior officer behind him, "run along." Not needing to be told twice, the young man bolted for the door, and quickly closed it behind himself, shutting out the angry Colonel and his two culprits.
The Colonel, eyeballing Jack as he walked past him, giving him a quick once over, satisfied that the Captain would remain still, plonked himself into the other chair. Turning his attention to the silent witness behind the desk, he gave her a small smile. "How've you been Sam?" Jack saw a small shrug of shoulders from his periphal vision, pondering this strange turn of events, and smiling inwardly at learning her first name.
"Do you want a drink, Sir?" Stressing the last word like an angry jab, she stood and stepped out of his sight.
"Still upset with me, I see." The Colonel's voice had softened somewhat, yet Jack decided against moving for the time being. Instead, he acted like a silent stone vigil.
"Did you really expect me not to be?"
There was a slight pause, ice being dropped into a glass, the sound of a bottle, then a murmur of thanks. Sam reclaimed her seat, holding her own glass.
Minutes seemed to drag. No one spoke. The only sounds, of ice against glass as each person waited for the other. Jack could feel the tension mounting in the room, and patiently waited for the storm to break.
++drwhodrwho++
tbc