All Saints Day by SGAtlantisLight (PG)
Show: SGA
Rec Category: Angst
Characters: Peter Kavanagh, Elizabeth Weir
Pairing: Sumner/ Kavanagh
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash
Warning: canon character death, vague spoilers up to episode "Conversion"
Author on LJ: sgatlantislight
Author's Website: Fic listing on LJ profile
Link: All Saints Day
Why this must be read:
I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a Kavanagh fan. And yet, one just can't help but feel for him in this fantastic fic by SGAtlantisLight. Elizabeth is planning a Commemoration Day celebration to honor the departed of the Atlantis expedition and asks for pics of the various lost personnel. Kavanagh delivers a disk containing some very moving pics. I was tearing up something fierce by the time I got to where it mentioned the Sumner subdirectory of pics. Images of the lost move me like nothing else (seeing the faces of the lost give them humanity to me, and not just a statistic); reading about the pics of Sumner and the Atlantis just made for a fantastic angst fic. Go enjoy this well characterized and written fic; don't forget the hankies!
Story Summary: Weir needs pictures of Atlantis's fallen for a commemoration service.
She sighed. "Too bad you don't have any better shots of Colonel Sumner. Not that I was expecting to find any."
"There's a subdirectory," he said quietly.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked closer. Yes, indeed, there was a subdirectory labeled 'MSpics' that she hadn't noticed. The first picture showed a man who could have been Sumner, bundled against the snow, on skis. Another followed of him building a snowman. A third sitting next to a Christmas tree, opening a gift. Then there was Sumner in his dress uniform, smiling proudly. Sumner digging in the garden came next, then Sumner in a pool somewhere, grinning at the camera. The next, he was laying in a hammock, eyes closed. Then he was hiking through the Rockies.
The last picture showed him in jeans and a flannel shirt, sitting on a front porch somewhere, smiling easily, a light in his eyes, showing off a Jack-o-lantern he had apparently carved. Behind him, the mailbox mounted to the house read 'C. Kavanaugh.'
She looked up at Kavanaugh, seeing him through different eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry. I never knew."
Rec Category: Angst
Characters: Peter Kavanagh, Elizabeth Weir
Pairing: Sumner/ Kavanagh
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash
Warning: canon character death, vague spoilers up to episode "Conversion"
Author on LJ: sgatlantislight
Author's Website: Fic listing on LJ profile
Link: All Saints Day
Why this must be read:
I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a Kavanagh fan. And yet, one just can't help but feel for him in this fantastic fic by SGAtlantisLight. Elizabeth is planning a Commemoration Day celebration to honor the departed of the Atlantis expedition and asks for pics of the various lost personnel. Kavanagh delivers a disk containing some very moving pics. I was tearing up something fierce by the time I got to where it mentioned the Sumner subdirectory of pics. Images of the lost move me like nothing else (seeing the faces of the lost give them humanity to me, and not just a statistic); reading about the pics of Sumner and the Atlantis just made for a fantastic angst fic. Go enjoy this well characterized and written fic; don't forget the hankies!
Story Summary: Weir needs pictures of Atlantis's fallen for a commemoration service.
She sighed. "Too bad you don't have any better shots of Colonel Sumner. Not that I was expecting to find any."
"There's a subdirectory," he said quietly.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked closer. Yes, indeed, there was a subdirectory labeled 'MSpics' that she hadn't noticed. The first picture showed a man who could have been Sumner, bundled against the snow, on skis. Another followed of him building a snowman. A third sitting next to a Christmas tree, opening a gift. Then there was Sumner in his dress uniform, smiling proudly. Sumner digging in the garden came next, then Sumner in a pool somewhere, grinning at the camera. The next, he was laying in a hammock, eyes closed. Then he was hiking through the Rockies.
The last picture showed him in jeans and a flannel shirt, sitting on a front porch somewhere, smiling easily, a light in his eyes, showing off a Jack-o-lantern he had apparently carved. Behind him, the mailbox mounted to the house read 'C. Kavanaugh.'
She looked up at Kavanaugh, seeing him through different eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry. I never knew."