Atlantis fic: Dream about you
Title: Dream about you
Fandom: Atlantis
Characters: Jason/Pythagoras, Hercules/Medusa
Rating: PG
Word count: 1000
Summary: Jason dreams. Probably. Maybe.
AN: Total fluff. Written for the trope bingo square: future fic.
AN2: I cut loads out to keep this to 1000 words. Sorry, there’s probably a less confusing fic trying to get out. Otoh, a story. Yay!
*
DREAM ABOUT YOU
It was definitely a dream. Jason knew this because there was no way his friends could be here with him. But it felt real, from the phone in his hand, to the smell of beer, and the rough-hewn warmth of the wooden barstools. Jason could read the specials chalked on the blackboard by the bar. He’d never been able to do that in a dream before.
He was home.
Back home, that is.
He was in the Bricklayer’s Arms with Hercules and Pythagoras. They were celebrating Hercules’s forthcoming marriage.
Pythagoras rolled his beer mat between his fingers. “This is all wrong.”
Jason breathed out in relief. Definitely a dream.
Pythagoras continued. “Hercules should be marrying Medusa. They are made for each other, and if it hadn’t been that thing with the Pandora restaurant they would have married years ago. If he marries Sophia it’ll ruin three people’s lives. We have to do something.”
“Mmmmmm,” mumbled Jason. He was mentally congratulating his dream-self at inventing such a detailed backstory.
“We. Have. To. Do. Something,” repeated Pythagoras. “Agreed?”
Jason was silent, distracted by Pythagoras’s loose fitting white shirt (formal enough for teaching and yet still showcasing deliciously sharp collarbones) and arse-moulding jeans. More kudos to his subconscious. Pythagoras met his gaze with a familiar expression compounded of intelligence, humour and a touch of impatience. “Jason?”
“Yes,” said Jason, finally realising that some response was expected. He couldn’t quite remember the question but there was no way he was saying ‘no’ to anything Pythagoras suggested.
Pythagoras’s mouth curved into a grin.
“Great,” he said. “So you’ll talk to Herc.”
“Me?” yelped Jason, belatedly recalling the business at hand. “You’re his oldest friend. Also, it’s his stag party - not exactly a tactful location.”
“You’ll think of something.”
Jason thought. In this dream reality he knew Hercules and Pythagoras were neighbours. Hercules was some years older than Pythagoras but the younger man’s quick wits more than made up the gap. Herc had always been average at school except for getting into trouble. At that he excelled. Pythagoras was a genius, of course. But he was also clumsy and awkward and the target for every bully around. Hercules protected Pythagoras. As later did Jason. Hercules went to catering college, before being employed as a sous-chef where he met, fell in love and broke up with Medusa. Jason headed to Portsmouth for an environmental sciences degree. Pythagoras did brainy things with numbers at Cambridge, first as an undergraduate, and now as a lecturer.
Except, not, because this wasn’t real. Reality was a mythical island thousands of years in the past. Probably. Maybe.
Pythagoras was still smiling and looking at Jason trustingly. “I know you can make this work,” he said.
Jason thought of a plan. Instantly everything was sorted. This was his dream. Naturally he had fortune’s favour. It was rough and ready but it would do.
The private room at the Bricklayers Arms held 15 comfortably, 25 at a squeeze, and absolutely no more than 30 according to fire regulations. There were 40 drunken men crowded in there now. Jason refused to tell Pythagoras exactly what ‘the plan’ involved reasoning that if it all went wrong Hercules could blame only one of them.
“I’m bored. When’s the stripper arriving?” asked Hep, breathing beerily into their faces.
“Soon,” said Jason.
“You booked a stripper?” Pythagoras turned to Jason as Hep wobbled away. “That’s totally degrading.” He paused, and added, “Herc will love it.”
“We’ll see,” said Jason.
Pythagoras lit up. “I get it! Sophia finds out and kills Hercules!”
“Oh,” said Jason. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
“Great plan!” said Pythagoras approvingly. And, because this was a dream, he leaned in and kissed Jason.
Funny. Jason’s waking fantasies had always involved making the first move. Not that he was complaining. Far from it.
There was an approving roar as the stripper arrived dressed in a saucy police uniform complete with hat tipped cheekily over her face.
“Hello Boys,” she called pulling a truncheon from a belt at her waist.
Hercules pushed to the front of the crowd. He looked both mortified and horrified. “Medusa,” he croaked.
The stripper dropped her truncheon.
Things got a little muddled after that. Hercules ripped the tablecloth off the buffet and wrapped it around Medusa before escorting her out. Deprived of entertainment the guests started fighting amongst themselves. A bread roll hit Jason on the shoulder.
Ow! That hurt! The party was descending into familiar scenes of chaos. It was time to go.
Jason took Pythagoras’s hand and led him out of the pub.
In the car park they passed a curtain-wrapped Medusa and Hercules perched on the back bumper of a van bearing the logo ‘Atlantis Strippers: Legends come to life.’. Their knees were touching, faces turned into each other and hands just inches apart. Interrupting was unthinkable. Just looking felt like an intrusion. If only this weren’t a dream and Herc and Medusa’s relationship could be fixed as easily in real life.
Pythagoras tightened his fingers around Jason’s. “You did good.”
“Think they’ll be alright?” asked Jason.
“I’m not an oracle. But, yes, I think they’ll be fine. Did you know?”
“Yes,” said Jason. “We kept in touch but she wouldn’t accept my help. I just hoped that seeing her again, and in such a vulnerable position would bring Hercules to his senses. Poor Sophia, I hope she’s being looked after.”
“Better now than later,” pointed out Pythagoras, “Hercules and Medusa are meant to be together.”
“Like we are.”
“Jason!”
“Han and Leia, Merlin and Arthur, Jason and Pythagoras…”
“Jason! Wake up!” Pythagoras’s hands were warm on his bare shoulders. “Good news. Hercules and Medusa are back together. Who are all those people?”
“Famous couples,” answered Jason sleepily.
“And we’re there because….?”
“You are or will be,” said Jason. “We could be.”
Pythagoras blushed, laughed and snuggled close. “You are strange. Who wants to be famous?”
Awake or asleep, Jason decided it didn’t really matter. Dreams could come true.
*