Secret Santa: "Just What Do These Plants Eat?" by fififolle for planetkiller; T
Title: Just What Do These Plants Eat?
Author: fififolle
Rating: T
Pairing, characters: Kavanagh/Parrish, LeBeau(OC)
Spoilers: none
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I write this for fun or something, make no money, etc.
Wordcount: 2425
Summary: Kavanagh and LeBeau find something unusual, and along with Parrish they get caught up in a sticky situation...
Author Notes: Written for planetkiller who wanted French, Kav saves the day, and Chuck or Parrish :) Corporal LeBeau belongs to them, I hope they don't mind me borrowing him for a little adventure! Thanks to missyvortexdv for the beta. Merry Christmas planetkiller!! *hugs*
"Is this the door?" Corporal LeBeau asked.
Doctor Kavanagh made a face and checked his manifest. "I think so."
"Well, can you double check? 'Cos I don't want Major Lorne on my ass because we opened some virus containment unit." Beau gripped his P90 rifle nervously.
"Relax, Beau." Kavanagh liked the Cajun, and oddly, the Marine didn't seem to mind him. Maybe that's why he always got the man assigned to him when he needed a military escort.
They were helping to check the flood damage on the East Pier, including several sections that had never been visited before. Kavanagh checked his pad again.
"This is definitely it. Open it up."
Beau shrugged and touched the panel beside the door. Nothing happened. After a cursory glance he stepped back. "After you, Doc."
Kavanagh sighed. "You're about as useful as a screen door on a submarine, Beau. I could have done this on my own." He examined the panel, slid off the cover and removed a crystal, attaching the cable from his pad to the unit. A few taps on his keyboard, and the enormous Ancient doors slid apart with an echo of a groan.
Beau and Kavanagh both took a step back, the Marine with his weapon poised.
The huge chamber behind the door looked like a botanical gardens, a sea of greenery from high ceiling to floor.
It even smelled like a tropical paradise, moist air drifting into the corridor to meet them.
Kavanagh and Beau looked at each other, eyes wide.
“What was you expecting in there, Doc?”
Kavanagh shrugged. “Not this.”
Beau smiled at him and they stepped into the large cavernous room, brushing palm fronds aside as they moved in to examine the chamber. Trees and shrubs grew from long beds of loamy soil laid out along the floor.
“C'est lagniappe...” breathed Beau.
“I beg your pardon?” Kavanagh liked the way Beau would lapse into some slurred version of French from time to time, but he wished the Marine would provide a translation sometimes.
“I said it was a nice surprise, Doc. Look at this place.” Beau was almost whispering. They were both in awe.
“I know. I also know someone who'll want to see this,” Kavanagh said quietly, and keyed his radio. “Doctor Parrish, respond, please.”
David Parrish was the principle botanist on the expedition, and Kavanagh thought he was pretty cute. Not that he'd ever tell him. He would probably prefer to tell Beau he was cute, and enjoy the punch in the face after. Telling Parrish he was cute would be too embarrassing.
“Hello?” The voice in his earpiece sounded confused, as if he couldn't imagine why anyone was calling him.
“Parrish? Is that you?” He grinned at Beau, who was poking a blue flower with his P90.
“Dr Kavanagh?”
“Yes, it's me, Kav. Are you busy, David? I've found something you really want to see.” Kavanagh slapped Beau's hand away from the plant, earning a glare.
“What kind of thing? A living thing?” Parrish sounded interested, but confused.
“Yes, living things. Lots and lots of big, green, living things. Get down to the East Pier now. We're in Section 8b. Bring something to take samples and whatever else you need.”
There was a moment of silence on the radio, then Parrish responded excitedly. “I'll be right there.”
Kavanagh couldn't help smiling, knowing that Parrish would be along soon. “He's coming. He knows about trees and... things.” He looked down as he tucked his pad into his shoulder bag, hoping he wasn't blushing like a teenager.
Beau raised an eyebrow. “I heard.” The Marine looked like he was going to say something else, but refrained. “Come on, Doc, let's check out the rest of this place while we wait for the plant man to arrive.”
They fought their way through tangled vines and spiky bushes that were encroaching on the paths, and Kavanagh noted the presence of small control stations dotted among the beds. Perhaps they regulated water or feed to the plants. This whole set-up was probably designed for growing plants for medicines or something. They could discuss it with the medical team later.
“Look at this, Doc!”
Beau was staring at the end wall of the chamber, what would have been a wall of windows looking out on to the end of the pier, but some of them had been smashed by the violent storm. Fragments of blue, green and red transparent panels lay around their feet. Kavanagh was still analyzing the nature of the window material in the city as one of his ongoing projects. It certainly wasn't glass.
“What a shame,” mumbled Kavanagh, leaning down to pick up a piece of pale green material, intending to add it to his collection of samples. He tucked it into a pocket.
They moved outside, picking their way over the twisted frame and followed the creeping plants that had taken advantage of the broken windows.
“They sure grew fast,” noted Beau. “That window must only have blown out last night...”
As they reached the edge of the pier, they could see the jumble of debris. The plants were almost engulfing the grey body of the wharf. They seemed to be growing as the two men watched them...
“Oh shit...” Beau took a step back, and Kavanagh's eyes widened as he realized what Beau had seen.
“Out of here. Now!”
They turned, and found themselves faced with a wall of spiky green tendrils snaking over the broken window frames.
“The plants are eating the pier!” cried Beau.
“I know,” snapped Kavanagh. “We need to stop them.”
“They'd better not eat my pants!” squealed Beau, and drew his knife, ready to cut through the nearest vines.
Kavanagh gave him a strange look. Sometimes the Cajun could be a little off the wall. He reached out his hand and grabbed Beau. “Don't cut them, we don't know what will happen.”
They looked around quickly, considering their options. Climb over the plants, or climb down the wharf and try and get back onto the pier further along.
“Kav?” Parrish called hopefully from inside the garden room.
Kavanagh's stomach lurched. “David? The plants are eating the pier, we're trapped out here. Get out of there!”
“These plants are amazing!” called Parrish.
Kavanagh groaned. “I said they're eating the pier! You have to leave!”
Beau was speaking rapidly into his radio. Kavanagh didn't know how the person he was speaking to could understand him. Then he heard the familiar word - Chuck.
“Mais oui, mon frère. Much obliged to you.”
Since when had Chuck been Beau's brother? “Is he sending help?”
Beau nodded and winked. “Yep.”
They was an almighty crash from inside the building, and Kavanagh's heart started thumping. “David? Are you out of there yet?”
There was no sound, other than the rustle of leaves.
“We have to get back in there,” insisted Kavanagh, but Beau had already shouldered his P90 and was testing hand and footholds on the remaining intact panels of the windows.
Looking up, Kavanagh could see how it might be possible to climb up and through the broken panel above and drop down into the fast-encroaching jungle.
Beau looked down. “Don't just stand there! Allons! Suivre moi.”
Kavanagh racked his brain for his pitiful French, moulding it into the Cajun drawl. Looking up at Beau, halfway up the sheer window, he had the awful feeling the Marine wanted him to climb up too. Sighing, and trying to remember that David Parrish might be in trouble out there, he flexed his hands and began to climb.
The next time he looked up, Beau had disappeared, and the deck was pretty far below him. “Beau!”
“Icitte,” called Beau, who had clearly slipped into his native tongue with all the adrenaline.
Kavanagh looked over the top of the broken panel and down to the jungle below, where the Marine was crouched down beside a sitting Parrish with his head in his hands. Kavanagh threw his leg over the panel frame, and began to shimmy down the other side of the window, his boots struggling to grip the thin metalloid encasing the still-intact windows.
He stumbled down the last couple of feet and hurried across. “David, are you okay?”
Parrish blinked up at him, a weak smile on his face. “I tripped over one of these consoles and must have hit my head. Sorry, I'm okay.”
Kavanagh reached out instinctively and brushed away the hair on Parrish's forehead, wincing at the nasty cut on the man's temple. His brow pinched in concern. “We need to get out of here. We have to lock this place down and get you to the infirmary.”
Beau was looking around - the floor was hardly visible now - and he muttered to himself, “Them tatailles is gonna eat my pants.”
Kavanagh was torn between trying to figure out a way of shutting down this hothouse, and wanting to grab Beau's trauma kit and attend to Parrish.
Beau seemed to sense his dilemma. “Doc, go and check out that console, see if we can do anything from in here. I'll take good care of Dr Parrish.”
Kavanagh nodded, and gave Parrish's shoulder what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. Parrish looked anxious, pale, but smiled back, and Kav's heart missed a beat.
He hurried over to the console and pulled his pad out. Plugging his cable into the data port, he willed the connection to speed up. These damn plants were starting to trail around his legs.
Maybe they did eat pants after all.
Kavanagh studied the schematics of the room, and suddenly it struck him. He exited the page and linked to the main utilities controls for Atlantis.
“Doctor Kavanagh! What the hell have you done?”
Kavanagh winced. The voice of Rodney McKay in his ear was the last thing he needed right now.
“Is there a problem, Dr McKay?”
“City-eating plants are eating my city!” complained McKay. “Why did you let them out?”
With a deep breath, he answered, “They were out already, McKay. I've got a plan. Give me five minutes, then you can shoot me.”
A huff. “Five minutes, Kavanagh. Don't let my city get eaten.”
He typed frantically, overriding the command barriers at least once. He had to shut down any chance of anywhere other than this room getting the outflow, and he had to allow the tank to be contaminated in the first place.
“How you doing, Doc?” called Beau. He sounded a little worried now, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the Marine kicking at a persistent bush.
“Almost... there.” Kavanagh entered the last command, and looked around him.
“What have you done?” asked Parrish quietly.
It suddenly struck him just what he had done. “I'm sorry, David. I didn't have much choice. Maybe some of them will survive.”
They gazed about as the plants around them began to shrink back, tendrils shriveling and turning brown, leaves curling and dropping from stems. As foliage withered, window frames and floor tiles were revealed, gashed and pitted as though attacked by a machete dripping acid.
Parrish reached out to the plants, his face horrified. “What have you done?” he asked again.
Kavanagh could only regret his drastic action as he saw David's sad face, but it wasn't his fault that the plants were eating the pier.
“I contaminated one of the main water tanks with the acid we pump into the sewage plant. Then I rerouted the water from that tank to flood the beds here. I'm really sorry, David. Maybe some of them will recover. We can build a... containment unit.”
“Kavanagh!!” The shout made him jump.
“What is it, McKay?”
“Now you've fixed the plant problem, I expect the water supply to be purged and restored within four hours!”
Beau stood up, grinned at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Nice work, Doc,” he whispered.
“Fine, McKay. Also, you're welcome. Next time I'll let the plants eat the pier. And all our pants.”
There was a slight spluttering noise on the other end of the line, then McKay cut off. Kavanagh, Parrish and Beau watched as a group of Marines turned up, led by Major Lorne.
“You take Dr Parrish to the infirmary, Doc,” suggested Beau. “I'll deal with things here.”
“Don't kill the plants!” Parrish took Kavanagh's hand and staggered to his feet.
“I'll see to it,” winked Beau. “Go on, get. Make sure you have a long coffee break and recover. Hey, Parrish, maybe he'll even show you his collection of glass.”
Parrish blinked owlishly at Beau, and pointedly didn't meet Kavanagh's eye.
“It's a transparent material collection.” Kavanagh threw him an annoyed scowl, followed by a shrug and a grateful smile. By deliberately not denying the fact that he'd like nothing better than to show David Parrish his transparent material collection, amongst other things, he had effortlessly given the botanist the indication that he might in fact be interested in showing him his transparent material collection, amongst other things. This could only be a good thing.
He'd give Beau a stern talking to later anyway.
They picked their way towards the exit, through the debris and brown heaps of dying plant matter, Kavanagh helping Parrish with a steadying arm.
“Um... Kav?” Parrish looked at him, the temporary dressing on his temple making him look adorably vulnerable.
“Yes, David?” Kavanagh felt Parrish hold his arm tighter.
“Do you really have a transparent material collection?” The smile was genuine, the tone just the right side of teasing.
Kavanagh smiled back. “Maybe. Would you like to see it sometime?”
They reached the door of the botanical room, and turned left towards the infirmary. Parrish let go of Kavanagh's arm, but there was no distance between them as they kept walking.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Really?”
Parrish bumped against Kavanagh as he walked, probably concussion affecting his balance, Kavanagh concluded.
“Of course. I've been thinking for a while that it might be nice to see your... transparent material collection.”
Kavanagh turned to him in surprise, and was met with a calm smile. He couldn't help but make a rather girly squeaking sound, and blushed furiously.
Parrish chuckled, and Kavanagh really hoped that the man wasn't concussed.
They arrived at the infirmary, and Parrish paused in the doorway, his hand brushing Kavanagh's. “I think you'll find I'm not concussed, Kav. Will you stay while they check me over, then we could get that coffee?”
Kavanagh nodded, smiling. Parrish really did like him. “Sure. Why not?”
FIN
Cajun French glossary
lagniappe - a nice surprise
Mais oui, mon frère - of course, my brother
Allons! Suivre moi - Come on! Follow me.
Icitte - Here
tatailles - monsters
Author: fififolle
Rating: T
Pairing, characters: Kavanagh/Parrish, LeBeau(OC)
Spoilers: none
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I write this for fun or something, make no money, etc.
Wordcount: 2425
Summary: Kavanagh and LeBeau find something unusual, and along with Parrish they get caught up in a sticky situation...
Author Notes: Written for planetkiller who wanted French, Kav saves the day, and Chuck or Parrish :) Corporal LeBeau belongs to them, I hope they don't mind me borrowing him for a little adventure! Thanks to missyvortexdv for the beta. Merry Christmas planetkiller!! *hugs*
"Is this the door?" Corporal LeBeau asked.
Doctor Kavanagh made a face and checked his manifest. "I think so."
"Well, can you double check? 'Cos I don't want Major Lorne on my ass because we opened some virus containment unit." Beau gripped his P90 rifle nervously.
"Relax, Beau." Kavanagh liked the Cajun, and oddly, the Marine didn't seem to mind him. Maybe that's why he always got the man assigned to him when he needed a military escort.
They were helping to check the flood damage on the East Pier, including several sections that had never been visited before. Kavanagh checked his pad again.
"This is definitely it. Open it up."
Beau shrugged and touched the panel beside the door. Nothing happened. After a cursory glance he stepped back. "After you, Doc."
Kavanagh sighed. "You're about as useful as a screen door on a submarine, Beau. I could have done this on my own." He examined the panel, slid off the cover and removed a crystal, attaching the cable from his pad to the unit. A few taps on his keyboard, and the enormous Ancient doors slid apart with an echo of a groan.
Beau and Kavanagh both took a step back, the Marine with his weapon poised.
The huge chamber behind the door looked like a botanical gardens, a sea of greenery from high ceiling to floor.
It even smelled like a tropical paradise, moist air drifting into the corridor to meet them.
Kavanagh and Beau looked at each other, eyes wide.
“What was you expecting in there, Doc?”
Kavanagh shrugged. “Not this.”
Beau smiled at him and they stepped into the large cavernous room, brushing palm fronds aside as they moved in to examine the chamber. Trees and shrubs grew from long beds of loamy soil laid out along the floor.
“C'est lagniappe...” breathed Beau.
“I beg your pardon?” Kavanagh liked the way Beau would lapse into some slurred version of French from time to time, but he wished the Marine would provide a translation sometimes.
“I said it was a nice surprise, Doc. Look at this place.” Beau was almost whispering. They were both in awe.
“I know. I also know someone who'll want to see this,” Kavanagh said quietly, and keyed his radio. “Doctor Parrish, respond, please.”
David Parrish was the principle botanist on the expedition, and Kavanagh thought he was pretty cute. Not that he'd ever tell him. He would probably prefer to tell Beau he was cute, and enjoy the punch in the face after. Telling Parrish he was cute would be too embarrassing.
“Hello?” The voice in his earpiece sounded confused, as if he couldn't imagine why anyone was calling him.
“Parrish? Is that you?” He grinned at Beau, who was poking a blue flower with his P90.
“Dr Kavanagh?”
“Yes, it's me, Kav. Are you busy, David? I've found something you really want to see.” Kavanagh slapped Beau's hand away from the plant, earning a glare.
“What kind of thing? A living thing?” Parrish sounded interested, but confused.
“Yes, living things. Lots and lots of big, green, living things. Get down to the East Pier now. We're in Section 8b. Bring something to take samples and whatever else you need.”
There was a moment of silence on the radio, then Parrish responded excitedly. “I'll be right there.”
Kavanagh couldn't help smiling, knowing that Parrish would be along soon. “He's coming. He knows about trees and... things.” He looked down as he tucked his pad into his shoulder bag, hoping he wasn't blushing like a teenager.
Beau raised an eyebrow. “I heard.” The Marine looked like he was going to say something else, but refrained. “Come on, Doc, let's check out the rest of this place while we wait for the plant man to arrive.”
They fought their way through tangled vines and spiky bushes that were encroaching on the paths, and Kavanagh noted the presence of small control stations dotted among the beds. Perhaps they regulated water or feed to the plants. This whole set-up was probably designed for growing plants for medicines or something. They could discuss it with the medical team later.
“Look at this, Doc!”
Beau was staring at the end wall of the chamber, what would have been a wall of windows looking out on to the end of the pier, but some of them had been smashed by the violent storm. Fragments of blue, green and red transparent panels lay around their feet. Kavanagh was still analyzing the nature of the window material in the city as one of his ongoing projects. It certainly wasn't glass.
“What a shame,” mumbled Kavanagh, leaning down to pick up a piece of pale green material, intending to add it to his collection of samples. He tucked it into a pocket.
They moved outside, picking their way over the twisted frame and followed the creeping plants that had taken advantage of the broken windows.
“They sure grew fast,” noted Beau. “That window must only have blown out last night...”
As they reached the edge of the pier, they could see the jumble of debris. The plants were almost engulfing the grey body of the wharf. They seemed to be growing as the two men watched them...
“Oh shit...” Beau took a step back, and Kavanagh's eyes widened as he realized what Beau had seen.
“Out of here. Now!”
They turned, and found themselves faced with a wall of spiky green tendrils snaking over the broken window frames.
“The plants are eating the pier!” cried Beau.
“I know,” snapped Kavanagh. “We need to stop them.”
“They'd better not eat my pants!” squealed Beau, and drew his knife, ready to cut through the nearest vines.
Kavanagh gave him a strange look. Sometimes the Cajun could be a little off the wall. He reached out his hand and grabbed Beau. “Don't cut them, we don't know what will happen.”
They looked around quickly, considering their options. Climb over the plants, or climb down the wharf and try and get back onto the pier further along.
“Kav?” Parrish called hopefully from inside the garden room.
Kavanagh's stomach lurched. “David? The plants are eating the pier, we're trapped out here. Get out of there!”
“These plants are amazing!” called Parrish.
Kavanagh groaned. “I said they're eating the pier! You have to leave!”
Beau was speaking rapidly into his radio. Kavanagh didn't know how the person he was speaking to could understand him. Then he heard the familiar word - Chuck.
“Mais oui, mon frère. Much obliged to you.”
Since when had Chuck been Beau's brother? “Is he sending help?”
Beau nodded and winked. “Yep.”
They was an almighty crash from inside the building, and Kavanagh's heart started thumping. “David? Are you out of there yet?”
There was no sound, other than the rustle of leaves.
“We have to get back in there,” insisted Kavanagh, but Beau had already shouldered his P90 and was testing hand and footholds on the remaining intact panels of the windows.
Looking up, Kavanagh could see how it might be possible to climb up and through the broken panel above and drop down into the fast-encroaching jungle.
Beau looked down. “Don't just stand there! Allons! Suivre moi.”
Kavanagh racked his brain for his pitiful French, moulding it into the Cajun drawl. Looking up at Beau, halfway up the sheer window, he had the awful feeling the Marine wanted him to climb up too. Sighing, and trying to remember that David Parrish might be in trouble out there, he flexed his hands and began to climb.
The next time he looked up, Beau had disappeared, and the deck was pretty far below him. “Beau!”
“Icitte,” called Beau, who had clearly slipped into his native tongue with all the adrenaline.
Kavanagh looked over the top of the broken panel and down to the jungle below, where the Marine was crouched down beside a sitting Parrish with his head in his hands. Kavanagh threw his leg over the panel frame, and began to shimmy down the other side of the window, his boots struggling to grip the thin metalloid encasing the still-intact windows.
He stumbled down the last couple of feet and hurried across. “David, are you okay?”
Parrish blinked up at him, a weak smile on his face. “I tripped over one of these consoles and must have hit my head. Sorry, I'm okay.”
Kavanagh reached out instinctively and brushed away the hair on Parrish's forehead, wincing at the nasty cut on the man's temple. His brow pinched in concern. “We need to get out of here. We have to lock this place down and get you to the infirmary.”
Beau was looking around - the floor was hardly visible now - and he muttered to himself, “Them tatailles is gonna eat my pants.”
Kavanagh was torn between trying to figure out a way of shutting down this hothouse, and wanting to grab Beau's trauma kit and attend to Parrish.
Beau seemed to sense his dilemma. “Doc, go and check out that console, see if we can do anything from in here. I'll take good care of Dr Parrish.”
Kavanagh nodded, and gave Parrish's shoulder what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. Parrish looked anxious, pale, but smiled back, and Kav's heart missed a beat.
He hurried over to the console and pulled his pad out. Plugging his cable into the data port, he willed the connection to speed up. These damn plants were starting to trail around his legs.
Maybe they did eat pants after all.
Kavanagh studied the schematics of the room, and suddenly it struck him. He exited the page and linked to the main utilities controls for Atlantis.
“Doctor Kavanagh! What the hell have you done?”
Kavanagh winced. The voice of Rodney McKay in his ear was the last thing he needed right now.
“Is there a problem, Dr McKay?”
“City-eating plants are eating my city!” complained McKay. “Why did you let them out?”
With a deep breath, he answered, “They were out already, McKay. I've got a plan. Give me five minutes, then you can shoot me.”
A huff. “Five minutes, Kavanagh. Don't let my city get eaten.”
He typed frantically, overriding the command barriers at least once. He had to shut down any chance of anywhere other than this room getting the outflow, and he had to allow the tank to be contaminated in the first place.
“How you doing, Doc?” called Beau. He sounded a little worried now, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the Marine kicking at a persistent bush.
“Almost... there.” Kavanagh entered the last command, and looked around him.
“What have you done?” asked Parrish quietly.
It suddenly struck him just what he had done. “I'm sorry, David. I didn't have much choice. Maybe some of them will survive.”
They gazed about as the plants around them began to shrink back, tendrils shriveling and turning brown, leaves curling and dropping from stems. As foliage withered, window frames and floor tiles were revealed, gashed and pitted as though attacked by a machete dripping acid.
Parrish reached out to the plants, his face horrified. “What have you done?” he asked again.
Kavanagh could only regret his drastic action as he saw David's sad face, but it wasn't his fault that the plants were eating the pier.
“I contaminated one of the main water tanks with the acid we pump into the sewage plant. Then I rerouted the water from that tank to flood the beds here. I'm really sorry, David. Maybe some of them will recover. We can build a... containment unit.”
“Kavanagh!!” The shout made him jump.
“What is it, McKay?”
“Now you've fixed the plant problem, I expect the water supply to be purged and restored within four hours!”
Beau stood up, grinned at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Nice work, Doc,” he whispered.
“Fine, McKay. Also, you're welcome. Next time I'll let the plants eat the pier. And all our pants.”
There was a slight spluttering noise on the other end of the line, then McKay cut off. Kavanagh, Parrish and Beau watched as a group of Marines turned up, led by Major Lorne.
“You take Dr Parrish to the infirmary, Doc,” suggested Beau. “I'll deal with things here.”
“Don't kill the plants!” Parrish took Kavanagh's hand and staggered to his feet.
“I'll see to it,” winked Beau. “Go on, get. Make sure you have a long coffee break and recover. Hey, Parrish, maybe he'll even show you his collection of glass.”
Parrish blinked owlishly at Beau, and pointedly didn't meet Kavanagh's eye.
“It's a transparent material collection.” Kavanagh threw him an annoyed scowl, followed by a shrug and a grateful smile. By deliberately not denying the fact that he'd like nothing better than to show David Parrish his transparent material collection, amongst other things, he had effortlessly given the botanist the indication that he might in fact be interested in showing him his transparent material collection, amongst other things. This could only be a good thing.
He'd give Beau a stern talking to later anyway.
They picked their way towards the exit, through the debris and brown heaps of dying plant matter, Kavanagh helping Parrish with a steadying arm.
“Um... Kav?” Parrish looked at him, the temporary dressing on his temple making him look adorably vulnerable.
“Yes, David?” Kavanagh felt Parrish hold his arm tighter.
“Do you really have a transparent material collection?” The smile was genuine, the tone just the right side of teasing.
Kavanagh smiled back. “Maybe. Would you like to see it sometime?”
They reached the door of the botanical room, and turned left towards the infirmary. Parrish let go of Kavanagh's arm, but there was no distance between them as they kept walking.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Really?”
Parrish bumped against Kavanagh as he walked, probably concussion affecting his balance, Kavanagh concluded.
“Of course. I've been thinking for a while that it might be nice to see your... transparent material collection.”
Kavanagh turned to him in surprise, and was met with a calm smile. He couldn't help but make a rather girly squeaking sound, and blushed furiously.
Parrish chuckled, and Kavanagh really hoped that the man wasn't concussed.
They arrived at the infirmary, and Parrish paused in the doorway, his hand brushing Kavanagh's. “I think you'll find I'm not concussed, Kav. Will you stay while they check me over, then we could get that coffee?”
Kavanagh nodded, smiling. Parrish really did like him. “Sure. Why not?”
FIN
Cajun French glossary
lagniappe - a nice surprise
Mais oui, mon frère - of course, my brother
Allons! Suivre moi - Come on! Follow me.
Icitte - Here
tatailles - monsters