Stargate Atlantis Fanfiction - Gravity
Disclaimer: Not mine, I know it, you know it, we all agree. No money made, no infringement intended. Any similarity to any story not my own is unintentional. Pure fluff previously posted in john_elizabeth
The two poems quoted and used within this ficlit are inspired/adapted from a poem by A.S. Byatt and "Song of Solomon" from the bible.
Title: Gravity
Genre: Stargate Atlantis; Sparky AU fluff
Rating: G through PG-13
Timeline: AU; Sometime between Season three and "Sunday" of season four.
Author's Note: Sooo... to re-cap: This is my longer Sparky ficlit. I originally wrote and posted it as a WIP, not something I normally do, but well, that was just how this one was. It started as a small drabble named "Curls" and was initially inspired by the promo pics that first came out for season three as it was just starting.
Oh, and btw, the yoga that Elizabeth does in the ficlit is Hatha yoga which is generally the most commonly practiced in the West. Asana are the position/poses. And in English the asanas that she does, in order are: Eagle Pose; The Tree; The Mountain; The Salutation; The Wheel; and King of the Dance
Gravity
~Curls~
John sat across from Elizabeth as she finished reading his latest tactical report. For a moment, he was distracted by the sight of her absently twirling a stylus in her hand. He watched as she deftly twitched the device, almost mesmerized by the rapid movements of her graceful fingers. Then she suddenly pursed her lips and blew a puff of air upwards in an attempt to shift a curling tendril of hair away from her eyes. Immediately, John’s gaze returned to the original focus of his attention.
He wasn’t entirely certain as to when he had first noticed that Elizabeth’s dark, curling hair had grown longer, but once he had, John had begun to find it nearly impossible at times to draw his eyes away from it, or the beautiful face that it framed. It had become increasingly difficult to ignore the way the soft curls would sometimes caress her cheek. Or the way that a few tendrils would always seem to fall loose from behind her ear, causing her to either brush them back absently, or to do as she was now; try and blow them back with small puffs of air from between her pursed lips.
Irresistibly, his eyes were drawn to her mouth.
“Pppttt,” another small puff of air, and Elizabeth licked her bottom lip briefly.
John found himself fascinated by the gesture, unconsciously mimicking her, his own mouth going suddenly dry. And still, the rebellious curl fell near her downcast eyes.
“Pppttt.”
John was surprised to discover that his fingers were tingling as he fought the urge to reach across the desk and brush the gentle curl back. Even more, he wanted to bury in his hands in her hair and John wondered if the soft curls would tangle with his fingers, cling to them.
“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice rasping slightly.
“Almost done, Colonel,” she assured him, not looking up from the report and tilting her head slightly as she read. The movement caused another rebellious curl to slip loose from behind Elizabeth’s ear and she blew another puff of air upwards in their direction.
For a moment, John wondered if she was trying to drive him crazy.
“Pppttt,” the breath danced lightly from her lips once more.
"Lizabeth,” he said, and the tender use of her name finally drew her eyes up to his.
Impulsively, John rose and reached across the desk to lightly brush at the soft tendrils of her hair with his hand, pleased to feel the curls tangle gently around his fingertips.
The unexpected intimacy surprised them both a little.
“Have I ever told you how much I like your hair longer?” He asked suddenly in a thick voice, unable to stop himself.
“No,” she replied, her voice quietly bemused and softly wondering.
“I like it longer,” he murmured, impulsively slipping his fingers through a few of the soft tendrils, pleased to feel them curl gently around his fingers. “Very much,” he practically whispered as he traced his fingers along her cheek and his eyes locked with hers.
He reached his hand back up so that Elizabeth’s soft curls briefly twined about his fingers once more before he finally brushed them back behind her ear. His fingertips ghosted along her cheek, dancing along the trembling line between them, hesitated. He meet her eyes. “I just thought that you should know,” he said, his voice low as he finally pulled his hand away and sat back down.
“I see,” she replied softly, smiling quietly.
He returned her smile with a lopsided grin of his own. “Good,” he said, laughter in his voice as the rebellious curl slipped free once more…
Gravity:Part One: Curls
Gravity:Part Two: A Gift
Gravity:Part Three: Yoga
Gravity:Part Four: The Garden
Gravity:Part Five: The Gathering
Gravity:Part Six: Together
Gravity:Part Seven: Alone in the Storm
Gravity:Part Eight: Stronger than Death
Gravity:Part Nine: Destiny
The two poems quoted and used within this ficlit are inspired/adapted from a poem by A.S. Byatt and "Song of Solomon" from the bible.
Title: Gravity
Genre: Stargate Atlantis; Sparky AU fluff
Rating: G through PG-13
Timeline: AU; Sometime between Season three and "Sunday" of season four.
Author's Note: Sooo... to re-cap: This is my longer Sparky ficlit. I originally wrote and posted it as a WIP, not something I normally do, but well, that was just how this one was. It started as a small drabble named "Curls" and was initially inspired by the promo pics that first came out for season three as it was just starting.
Oh, and btw, the yoga that Elizabeth does in the ficlit is Hatha yoga which is generally the most commonly practiced in the West. Asana are the position/poses. And in English the asanas that she does, in order are: Eagle Pose; The Tree; The Mountain; The Salutation; The Wheel; and King of the Dance
Gravity
~Curls~
John sat across from Elizabeth as she finished reading his latest tactical report. For a moment, he was distracted by the sight of her absently twirling a stylus in her hand. He watched as she deftly twitched the device, almost mesmerized by the rapid movements of her graceful fingers. Then she suddenly pursed her lips and blew a puff of air upwards in an attempt to shift a curling tendril of hair away from her eyes. Immediately, John’s gaze returned to the original focus of his attention.
He wasn’t entirely certain as to when he had first noticed that Elizabeth’s dark, curling hair had grown longer, but once he had, John had begun to find it nearly impossible at times to draw his eyes away from it, or the beautiful face that it framed. It had become increasingly difficult to ignore the way the soft curls would sometimes caress her cheek. Or the way that a few tendrils would always seem to fall loose from behind her ear, causing her to either brush them back absently, or to do as she was now; try and blow them back with small puffs of air from between her pursed lips.
Irresistibly, his eyes were drawn to her mouth.
“Pppttt,” another small puff of air, and Elizabeth licked her bottom lip briefly.
John found himself fascinated by the gesture, unconsciously mimicking her, his own mouth going suddenly dry. And still, the rebellious curl fell near her downcast eyes.
“Pppttt.”
John was surprised to discover that his fingers were tingling as he fought the urge to reach across the desk and brush the gentle curl back. Even more, he wanted to bury in his hands in her hair and John wondered if the soft curls would tangle with his fingers, cling to them.
“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice rasping slightly.
“Almost done, Colonel,” she assured him, not looking up from the report and tilting her head slightly as she read. The movement caused another rebellious curl to slip loose from behind Elizabeth’s ear and she blew another puff of air upwards in their direction.
For a moment, John wondered if she was trying to drive him crazy.
“Pppttt,” the breath danced lightly from her lips once more.
"Lizabeth,” he said, and the tender use of her name finally drew her eyes up to his.
Impulsively, John rose and reached across the desk to lightly brush at the soft tendrils of her hair with his hand, pleased to feel the curls tangle gently around his fingertips.
The unexpected intimacy surprised them both a little.
“Have I ever told you how much I like your hair longer?” He asked suddenly in a thick voice, unable to stop himself.
“No,” she replied, her voice quietly bemused and softly wondering.
“I like it longer,” he murmured, impulsively slipping his fingers through a few of the soft tendrils, pleased to feel them curl gently around his fingers. “Very much,” he practically whispered as he traced his fingers along her cheek and his eyes locked with hers.
He reached his hand back up so that Elizabeth’s soft curls briefly twined about his fingers once more before he finally brushed them back behind her ear. His fingertips ghosted along her cheek, dancing along the trembling line between them, hesitated. He meet her eyes. “I just thought that you should know,” he said, his voice low as he finally pulled his hand away and sat back down.
“I see,” she replied softly, smiling quietly.
He returned her smile with a lopsided grin of his own. “Good,” he said, laughter in his voice as the rebellious curl slipped free once more…
Gravity:Part One: Curls
Gravity:Part Two: A Gift
Gravity:Part Three: Yoga
Gravity:Part Four: The Garden
Gravity:Part Five: The Gathering
Gravity:Part Six: Together
Gravity:Part Seven: Alone in the Storm
Gravity:Part Eight: Stronger than Death
Gravity:Part Nine: Destiny