118 Days (1/?) [Taylor/Wash]
Title: 118 Days (1/?)
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1939
Genre: AU/pre-series
Summary: What if Wash had been stranded with Taylor 85 million years in the past? A few snapshots of the 118 days they could have spend together.
Author's Note: My first WIP. We shall see how it goes. :D Dedicated to every single one of you most awesome BAMF shippers out there. ♥
Archives: FF.Net | Writing Journal
Their arrival in the past goes anything but as planned. It's a lot less graceful and hurts a lot more than anticipated. The portal literally expels them with such force, they fly several feet through the air before impacting with the hard ground, dirt and leaves exploding around them as they tumble across the floor.
When the world has stopped spinning and the ringing in her ears turns out to be creatures screeching, shrill and angry, for disrupting their peace, Alicia finally dares opening her eyes.
And promptly slams them shut again. It's so damn bright, so many colors and shapes blurring into one big mess and it burns her mind that's used to the muddy and gray shades of the future.
“Wash?” He's somewhere on her left, his voice croaky but still sharp, commanding her to answer him. She tries to but the breath is still knocked out of her and she's badly gasping for air.
“Wash?” There's a rustling close to her ear and then she feels his hand bump against hers, his fingers closing around her wrist in a strong grip. “Damn it, talk to me, Lieutenant!”
There is a note of desperation in his words, poorly veiled, and even though her body screams in protest, she opens her eyes once more, squints into the blinding sunlight and turns her head, inch for excruciating inch, until she finds her commanding officer's fuzzy shape against the green surrounding them and blinks rapidly to bring his face back into focus.
“I'm fine,” Alicia finally manages to wheeze out and maybe it's the play of lights but there is a flash of something in his gaze but then it's gone again and she's not sure if she just imagined it. Taylor nods curtly and rolls into a sitting position, dragging her with him and soon they are on their feet again, still unsteady and swaying but standing nonetheless, soldiers through and through.
A flare of blue at the other end of the clearing catches their attention and they watch with growing unease as the portal flickers once, twice and then shuts down completely, leaving them alone, stranded 85 million years in the past. No one else of their unit came after them, none of the supply carriers, nothing, all they have is each other and the packs on their backs.
Suddenly, Alicia becomes aware of all the different noises around them, the wind rushing high above their heads through the trees, various animal sounds echoing from all directions and her hand slowly slides down to her knife. She does not like how things turned out and if she gets that little bast-
“You're bleeding.” Taylor's words break her out of her grim thoughts and she glances up at him but he's already there, carefully lifting her chin to inspect the injury. His fingers are feather-light as he touches her temple and only when he brushes the wound, her nerve-endings are triggered and she flinches involuntarily.
“Sorry, Wash.”
She waves away his apology and ignores his chuckle when she starts looking around, all tough and business-like. The saying 'Medics are the worst patients' was probably written just for her, Taylor likes to claim, and she just proved it again.
“C'mon, let's find a place to stay and regroup.” He adjusts his backpack and she follows suit. “And take a look at that wound of yours.” She glares at him but he has already his back to her and with a huff, she falls into step beside him.
: : :
“How about that one?” She points at a Banyan tree a few yards ahead of them. His hand clasps her shoulder as he appears at her side, sizing the tree up with a critical eye.
“Not bad, Wash.” Taylor flashes her a smile before making his way towards the large prehistoric plant. “We might turn you into a tree-hugger one of these days.”
Rolling her eyes at his suggestion, Alicia sets down her pack and rummages inside it for the rope, pushes aside her plexpad and the med kit, her voice muffled as she almost sticks her head into the pack. “Not in this lifetime, sir.” A strand of hair escapes her hair tie, falling across her eyes and she blows it out of her face impatiently. “Got it.”
She stands up and there he is, impossible close, scaring the hell out of her with his silent black-ops moves. “Sir!”
Taylor is staring at her, that undefinable but intense look in his pale eyes again, the same one he's been giving her often since the morning after that fateful night, when a Slasher almost got her and only his fast reaction saved her life. “You will climb that tree, Lieutenant.”
“Sir?”
He grips her shoulders and pulls her closer. “You will get up there, even if I have to push you up myself. Is that clear?” His blazing gaze holds hers captive and makes her skin tingle uncomfortable. Alicia is sure she's missing something important here because he has not been this adamant about anything, not since he knocked at her door back in 2141 and told her without much fanfare that she was coming with him and shouldn't even think about declining. It wasn't so much of an offer than an order, one she followed gladly at that time.
Now however, she's getting more irritated with every second that passes without him offering an explanation for his odd behavior. She shakes off his hands, squares her shoulders and fixes him with an icy stare.
“Sir, with all due respect, you have no right to talk to me like that. I will never dance naked around a tree,” she winces at her choice of words but then she catches the darkening of his eyes and the sudden heat surging through her has got nothing to do with the burning sun. Her voice wavers only a little as she continues. “But that doesn't mean I won't climb the tree. It's the only thing standing between us and those creatures and while I am many things, I am certainly not stupid.”
“Never said you were, Wash.” His gaze softens and Taylor gently curves his fingers around her hand that holds the rope. “I just want you to be safe and sound. Who would stitch me up if some-”
“Oh, shut up,” Alicia growls but her bark is missing the bite and Taylor grins smugly as she roughly shoves the rope in his hands before she kneels back down to retrieve other items they need to get up that tree. She hears him turning around and groans, amused and yet annoyed as she realizes she still has no real answer for his attitude towards her.
“You know, Wash, I think I'll put you in charge of survival training once the colonists are here.”
“What?!” Her head snaps up and around so fast, she nearly gives herself whiplash, and stares in horror at the man she once had been proud to call her commanding officer. Right now, not so much.
“Oh, yes. Showing 'em how to make fire the old-fashioned way, how to figure out where north is, what kind of insects are edible, how to climb trees,...”
: : :
The red fish is probably the ugliest one in both the past and the future but it tastes delicious and more importantly, it doesn't hunt them back unlike the other creatures they've come across.
Fishing is something Alicia has never done, not even in the vacation domes back in 2142. So far Taylor caught it and she cooked it (worst cliché ever but his culinary skills are a deadly weapon of their own) but when he presents her with a second hand-carved spear, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, she knows she's in for an adventure. They arrive at the river bank shortly after dawn, the calm and shallow water being the best place to give fishing a try.
Stripped down to their tank tops, their boots and socks abandoned, pants rolled up to their knees, they slowly wade through the river until he gives her a silent signal to stop. “Remember, aim lower.” His voice quiet as he points at the water. “The optical refraction makes the fish appear higher in your line of sight than they really are.”
She nods, determined to not disappoint him and her fingers flex around the spear. It's easier said than done and after her fourth failed stab, she is ready to die from embarrassment and very tempted to simply shoot those damn fish.
From the corner of her eyes, she sees Taylor pulling back his arm, muscles stretching, moving beneath his skin, and she straightens up to watch as his spear finds it target with deadly accuracy once again. He cuts an impressive figure, a true hunter among its kind, and when the first rays of sunlight bath him in golden light, setting his eyes on fire, Alicia feels her body react, shivers racing down her spine at such a display of primal dominance.
“Something on your mind, Lieutenant?”
His voice startles her and she curses under her breath, ducking her head to hide her flaming cheeks, staring at her reflection in the water. Her mind frantically scrambles to find an excuse and she finally settles on, “Thinking about shooting the fish, sir.” It's not exactly a lie and when Taylor coughs to hide his laughter, she thanks whoever is listening that he cannot read her mind. They're in the middle of nowhere, trying to catch food to survive, which she's clearly failing at, and she drools over her commanding officer's arms.
Waves slosh around her as he joins her and she frowns in confusion as he sticks his spear into the ground and moves behind her. Their reflections become one as he lightly encircles her waist and pulls her back against his body, his other hand closing over hers until they are holding her spear together. She stiffens at the contact but Taylor is having none of it. “Relax,” he orders her softly, splays his hand low on her stomach, pressing against her tense muscles there, and she follows his command without hesitation.
“Now, inhale. Slowly. Then let the air out. And again, until you're one with the river.”
They always were more in tune with each other than anyone of their unit and so it only takes a few seconds for them to find the same rhythm, his breath stirring her hair and her back brushing his chest every time they breathe in and out.
“Remember the Chao Phraya watershed?” His cheek grazes hers as he leans forward and Alicia dips her chin in acknowledgment as she recalls that particular mission. “This is almost the same. You are the weapon, the spear is only the extension of your arm,” Taylor explains, guiding her arm back before moving it in a perfect arc towards the water's surface. He repeats the motion twice before he seems to be satisfied with her performance and takes a step back, enough to give her room to move and yet still close enough for her to feel the heat he's radiating.
His hand slides to her hip, giving her an encouraging squeeze, and she uses it to center herself, to focus completely on the task at hand.
When she goes in for the kill this time, she is dead on target.
Chapter Two
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1939
Genre: AU/pre-series
Summary: What if Wash had been stranded with Taylor 85 million years in the past? A few snapshots of the 118 days they could have spend together.
Author's Note: My first WIP. We shall see how it goes. :D Dedicated to every single one of you most awesome BAMF shippers out there. ♥
Archives: FF.Net | Writing Journal
Their arrival in the past goes anything but as planned. It's a lot less graceful and hurts a lot more than anticipated. The portal literally expels them with such force, they fly several feet through the air before impacting with the hard ground, dirt and leaves exploding around them as they tumble across the floor.
When the world has stopped spinning and the ringing in her ears turns out to be creatures screeching, shrill and angry, for disrupting their peace, Alicia finally dares opening her eyes.
And promptly slams them shut again. It's so damn bright, so many colors and shapes blurring into one big mess and it burns her mind that's used to the muddy and gray shades of the future.
“Wash?” He's somewhere on her left, his voice croaky but still sharp, commanding her to answer him. She tries to but the breath is still knocked out of her and she's badly gasping for air.
“Wash?” There's a rustling close to her ear and then she feels his hand bump against hers, his fingers closing around her wrist in a strong grip. “Damn it, talk to me, Lieutenant!”
There is a note of desperation in his words, poorly veiled, and even though her body screams in protest, she opens her eyes once more, squints into the blinding sunlight and turns her head, inch for excruciating inch, until she finds her commanding officer's fuzzy shape against the green surrounding them and blinks rapidly to bring his face back into focus.
“I'm fine,” Alicia finally manages to wheeze out and maybe it's the play of lights but there is a flash of something in his gaze but then it's gone again and she's not sure if she just imagined it. Taylor nods curtly and rolls into a sitting position, dragging her with him and soon they are on their feet again, still unsteady and swaying but standing nonetheless, soldiers through and through.
A flare of blue at the other end of the clearing catches their attention and they watch with growing unease as the portal flickers once, twice and then shuts down completely, leaving them alone, stranded 85 million years in the past. No one else of their unit came after them, none of the supply carriers, nothing, all they have is each other and the packs on their backs.
Suddenly, Alicia becomes aware of all the different noises around them, the wind rushing high above their heads through the trees, various animal sounds echoing from all directions and her hand slowly slides down to her knife. She does not like how things turned out and if she gets that little bast-
“You're bleeding.” Taylor's words break her out of her grim thoughts and she glances up at him but he's already there, carefully lifting her chin to inspect the injury. His fingers are feather-light as he touches her temple and only when he brushes the wound, her nerve-endings are triggered and she flinches involuntarily.
“Sorry, Wash.”
She waves away his apology and ignores his chuckle when she starts looking around, all tough and business-like. The saying 'Medics are the worst patients' was probably written just for her, Taylor likes to claim, and she just proved it again.
“C'mon, let's find a place to stay and regroup.” He adjusts his backpack and she follows suit. “And take a look at that wound of yours.” She glares at him but he has already his back to her and with a huff, she falls into step beside him.
: : :
“How about that one?” She points at a Banyan tree a few yards ahead of them. His hand clasps her shoulder as he appears at her side, sizing the tree up with a critical eye.
“Not bad, Wash.” Taylor flashes her a smile before making his way towards the large prehistoric plant. “We might turn you into a tree-hugger one of these days.”
Rolling her eyes at his suggestion, Alicia sets down her pack and rummages inside it for the rope, pushes aside her plexpad and the med kit, her voice muffled as she almost sticks her head into the pack. “Not in this lifetime, sir.” A strand of hair escapes her hair tie, falling across her eyes and she blows it out of her face impatiently. “Got it.”
She stands up and there he is, impossible close, scaring the hell out of her with his silent black-ops moves. “Sir!”
Taylor is staring at her, that undefinable but intense look in his pale eyes again, the same one he's been giving her often since the morning after that fateful night, when a Slasher almost got her and only his fast reaction saved her life. “You will climb that tree, Lieutenant.”
“Sir?”
He grips her shoulders and pulls her closer. “You will get up there, even if I have to push you up myself. Is that clear?” His blazing gaze holds hers captive and makes her skin tingle uncomfortable. Alicia is sure she's missing something important here because he has not been this adamant about anything, not since he knocked at her door back in 2141 and told her without much fanfare that she was coming with him and shouldn't even think about declining. It wasn't so much of an offer than an order, one she followed gladly at that time.
Now however, she's getting more irritated with every second that passes without him offering an explanation for his odd behavior. She shakes off his hands, squares her shoulders and fixes him with an icy stare.
“Sir, with all due respect, you have no right to talk to me like that. I will never dance naked around a tree,” she winces at her choice of words but then she catches the darkening of his eyes and the sudden heat surging through her has got nothing to do with the burning sun. Her voice wavers only a little as she continues. “But that doesn't mean I won't climb the tree. It's the only thing standing between us and those creatures and while I am many things, I am certainly not stupid.”
“Never said you were, Wash.” His gaze softens and Taylor gently curves his fingers around her hand that holds the rope. “I just want you to be safe and sound. Who would stitch me up if some-”
“Oh, shut up,” Alicia growls but her bark is missing the bite and Taylor grins smugly as she roughly shoves the rope in his hands before she kneels back down to retrieve other items they need to get up that tree. She hears him turning around and groans, amused and yet annoyed as she realizes she still has no real answer for his attitude towards her.
“You know, Wash, I think I'll put you in charge of survival training once the colonists are here.”
“What?!” Her head snaps up and around so fast, she nearly gives herself whiplash, and stares in horror at the man she once had been proud to call her commanding officer. Right now, not so much.
“Oh, yes. Showing 'em how to make fire the old-fashioned way, how to figure out where north is, what kind of insects are edible, how to climb trees,...”
: : :
The red fish is probably the ugliest one in both the past and the future but it tastes delicious and more importantly, it doesn't hunt them back unlike the other creatures they've come across.
Fishing is something Alicia has never done, not even in the vacation domes back in 2142. So far Taylor caught it and she cooked it (worst cliché ever but his culinary skills are a deadly weapon of their own) but when he presents her with a second hand-carved spear, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, she knows she's in for an adventure. They arrive at the river bank shortly after dawn, the calm and shallow water being the best place to give fishing a try.
Stripped down to their tank tops, their boots and socks abandoned, pants rolled up to their knees, they slowly wade through the river until he gives her a silent signal to stop. “Remember, aim lower.” His voice quiet as he points at the water. “The optical refraction makes the fish appear higher in your line of sight than they really are.”
She nods, determined to not disappoint him and her fingers flex around the spear. It's easier said than done and after her fourth failed stab, she is ready to die from embarrassment and very tempted to simply shoot those damn fish.
From the corner of her eyes, she sees Taylor pulling back his arm, muscles stretching, moving beneath his skin, and she straightens up to watch as his spear finds it target with deadly accuracy once again. He cuts an impressive figure, a true hunter among its kind, and when the first rays of sunlight bath him in golden light, setting his eyes on fire, Alicia feels her body react, shivers racing down her spine at such a display of primal dominance.
“Something on your mind, Lieutenant?”
His voice startles her and she curses under her breath, ducking her head to hide her flaming cheeks, staring at her reflection in the water. Her mind frantically scrambles to find an excuse and she finally settles on, “Thinking about shooting the fish, sir.” It's not exactly a lie and when Taylor coughs to hide his laughter, she thanks whoever is listening that he cannot read her mind. They're in the middle of nowhere, trying to catch food to survive, which she's clearly failing at, and she drools over her commanding officer's arms.
Waves slosh around her as he joins her and she frowns in confusion as he sticks his spear into the ground and moves behind her. Their reflections become one as he lightly encircles her waist and pulls her back against his body, his other hand closing over hers until they are holding her spear together. She stiffens at the contact but Taylor is having none of it. “Relax,” he orders her softly, splays his hand low on her stomach, pressing against her tense muscles there, and she follows his command without hesitation.
“Now, inhale. Slowly. Then let the air out. And again, until you're one with the river.”
They always were more in tune with each other than anyone of their unit and so it only takes a few seconds for them to find the same rhythm, his breath stirring her hair and her back brushing his chest every time they breathe in and out.
“Remember the Chao Phraya watershed?” His cheek grazes hers as he leans forward and Alicia dips her chin in acknowledgment as she recalls that particular mission. “This is almost the same. You are the weapon, the spear is only the extension of your arm,” Taylor explains, guiding her arm back before moving it in a perfect arc towards the water's surface. He repeats the motion twice before he seems to be satisfied with her performance and takes a step back, enough to give her room to move and yet still close enough for her to feel the heat he's radiating.
His hand slides to her hip, giving her an encouraging squeeze, and she uses it to center herself, to focus completely on the task at hand.
When she goes in for the kill this time, she is dead on target.
Chapter Two