With Intent

[l57371]

Title: With Intent
Author l57371
Pairing: Lorne/Parrish
Wordcount: 5044
Rating: NC17
Warning: Gratuitous use of berries
Spoilers: Ha, no
Disclaimer: Legally meaningless
Summary: Parrish flirted. Sure, he did, he flirted with everyone to some degree or other.
Beta: fififolle, whom I just realised did this for me a decade ago too!

Boxes. Boxes and boxes and boxes. And more boxes. An army may travel on its stomach, but apparently this mission travelled on multitudinous boxes full of ammunition.

Major Evan Lorne sighed and shuffled a huge stack of paper, attempting to line up edges and corners before he addressed the assembled marines. Finally he cleared his throat and looked up at the shuffling soldiers, waiting until most of the talking had died down.

“Alright everyone, you know the drill, same as last month,” he said, separating the papers into manageable chunks and handing them off. “Everyone take their section, inventory and cross check and with any luck we'll be out of here in time for lunch.”

“Pfft, yeah, right,” came a voice from the middle of the ranks. The other grunts snorted in laughter.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lorne returned. “And the longer you stand here gabbing the longer this is going to take.” He turned to go to his own section. “So let's go. Dismissed.” The marines dispersed, pairing off and rattling their papers as they all found their assigned shelves. Eventually the sounds of actual work being done began to replace the laughing and joking that preceded it.

Every month it was the same, thought Lorne. Count the boxes, count the bullets, report it to Colonel Shepherd and calculate the usage, request replacements in the vain hope that Stargate Command would actually listen and fulfill the requisition in a timely manner for once, and then do it again. And again. And again. He sighed heavily, looking around at the marines industriously counting, calculating, taking notes. They could be happy doing this for him, it was only one morning out of a month for them. For Lorne, recently put in charge of making sure that the Atlantis base was adequately armoured, it meant counting bullets incessantly.

He missed his team. He missed regularly going through the gate and seeing what was out there. He missed the adventure, the adrenalin, the simple not knowing all the time. Every day was something new. Now, after his promotion - well, “promotion” -- Lorne was feeling more stuck than anything, tied down, tethered. Sure, he had responsibilities, rank, even a staff, but what he didn't have was what he'd signed up for: Fun. At least, not as much as he used to. Even if half the time he got to be with his team off-world, the other half, he was in here.

Resolutely he turned back to his assigned bank of shelves, counting off boxes of P90 bullets and comparing the number to his sheets. Yup, everything matched. He kept a clean supply, every box and every bullet and every weapon counted, present and accounted for. How boring.

“Major?” Sergeant Blodel's voice carried across the ranks of shelving, a questioning lift at the end of the word. Lorne put his papers down, marking his place on the rack, and made his way across the crowded room to the stacks of sonic grenades.

“Yes, Sergeant?” Lorne asked, picking his way through stacks of ammo canisters.

“We have all the boom bombs,” Blodel said, her voice a pleasant lilt of laughter, “but the flower is new. Do we start a new sheet for it?”

Lorne's eyebrows came together in a puzzled frown. “Flower?” He nearly tripped over a stray shoulder strap that had come loose from the bundle. He looked down as he disentangled his foot, and when he lifted his gaze again the sergeant's hand was right in front of his face.

“Flower, sir.” Her smirk was evident in her voice, even if he couldn't see her full lips stretched into a smile.

In her hand was a small purple blossom, no more than four inches high. Its petals were a deep violet colour, and its leaves were a verdant green, fat and succulent with sharp tips. It looked something like an African violet crossed with a small cat. But its roots were the really interesting feature, they were moving, stretching and poking at the sergeant's hand as if searching for dirt. Or an escape.

“... flower,” Lorne said wonderingly. “Huh. Where was it?”

“In behind the crates, close to the wall,” Blodel replied. “I don't know how it could have gotten here, there's no dirt anywhere, just the flower.”

Lorne took the flower from the sergeant's hand, bringing it close to his face and peering down at it. Immediately the roots began exploring the folds and edges of his palm, levering itself up and shuffling over to the edge of his hand before Lorne brought his other hand up and let it make its way over, letting it walk across first one palm and then the other.

“Maybe it wandered in on its own,” Lorne said wonderingly.

“A flower got through your security system and into the weapons storage?” Blodel asked. The other marines laughed softly. “Well, I can see why the colonel put you in charge then.”

“Very funny, marine,” Lorne said, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Okay then, do you have any better ideas?”

“No, sir,” she said, coming to a lazy imitation of attention. “Permission to get back to counting?”

Lorne laughed. “Yeah, get on that.” He turned away and coddled the flower in his cupped hands. “I'm going to find someone to do something about this.”

He left the armoury and started down the spacious hall, heading to the transporter alcove at the end. As he walked he tapped his radio. “Lorne to Doctor Parrish.”

After a moment he got an answer. “Parrish here. What can I do for you, Major?” The botanist's voice trickled into his ear like honey, a soft, low purr.

Lorne blinked. “I have something here you may be interested in.”

“I'll just bet you do, Major,” Parrish said. Lorne could just about the see the wicked grin on the doctor's face. He could feel a flush creeping up his chest in response.

“A flower, doc,” Lorne said. “Small purple thing. Sound familiar?”

“No, I don't think so,” Parrish replied. “Why don't you bring it on down and we'll see what we can do about making it comfortable. Where'd you find it, anyway?”

“In my armoury.” Lorne watched as the flower made its way up his sleeve. “Any idea how it may have gotten there?”

“None at all, Major,” Parrish answered. Lorne could hear the smile in his voice.

“I'll be there in a few minutes,” said Lorne. “You may want to get a pot with a lid, this thing is a wanderer.”

“I'll be waiting, Major.”

Lorne rounded the corner and entered the Botany lab favoured by his teammate. The warm, humid air and lush greenery always made him feel slightly removed from time and place, so different from the rest of his Atlantis life. Everywhere else was ancient steel and the spare ascetic design favoured by the Ancients, or primitive planets that all seemed to look like a state park in Washington. The Botany lab, now that was a piece of Hawaiian paradise. The oxygen-rich air and huge leaves on the tropical-esque plants put him in an island frame of mind. The only thing missing was a sandy beach and drinks with pineapple and little umbrellas.

“Major, welcome to my lair.” Parrish’s voice came from so close behind him Lorne could feel his breath ruffle the hair on his neck. The taller man slid sideways around Lorne, carrying seedling trays in both hands, moving to the work bench and setting them down. “What did you bring me?”

Lorne had to breathe in twice before he could answer. “This,” he said finally, holding out his hands with the little flower in them. “It’s a … we found it in the armoury. Flower. It’s a flower.” He held his hands out and proffered the little sprout. Parrish plucked it from his palms.

Parrish huffed a small chuckle. “So I see. And you found it in the armoury with no soil around, nothing at all it could have rooted in or fallen out of. That’s very …”

“Odd,” Lorne blurted, nodding.

“Yes. Odd,” Parrish agreed, nodding along, a half-smile curving his lips on one side. He leaned casually back onto the planting table behind him, examining the specimen closely.

“Yes,” Lorne said. Smooth, he thought to himself. Real smooth. He forced himself to stop nodding.

“It seems to be ambulatory,” Parrish said. He watched as the flower used its roots to shimmy over the fingers of first one hand, then the other. “Fascinating.” He looked at Lorne with a delighted grin on his face, then went back to watching the flower.

“Y- yeah,” Lorne stuttered. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Yes, I just can’t figure out where it walked from and how it ended up in the armoury.”

Parrish leaned in close and whispered, as if sharing a confidence. “Sounds like we have a mystery on our hands, Major.” He reached for one of Lorne’s hands and let the flower move from his hand to Lorne’s. “Maybe we could do a little … sleuthing … together.”

Lorne’s entire body flushed at the suggestive emphasis Parrish put on the word. Even though there was nothing inherently suggestive about it, Lorne’s mind went to the places he tried so hard to avoid where the scientist was concerned. He scooted the little flower back onto Parrish’s hand and disentangled his fingers, pulling away.

“I’m not sure how it found its way into the armoury but I’ll do some checking around,” he said quickly, rubbing his palms on his thighs and backing toward the door. “I’ll check in with you later, Doc.” Lorne turned and fled.

“Promise?” Parrish’s low, throaty voice reached him just before the doors slid shut.

Lorne halted his retreat a few corridors away, leaning back against the wall in a deserted corridor, thumping his head lightly. This had to stop.

Parrish flirted. Sure, he did, he flirted with everyone to some degree or other. With the other botanists, with the gate techs, with the nurses, the doctors, and the servers in the mess hall. Everyone else just laughed with Parrish and enjoyed the joke. But Lorne, no, his treacherous brain had to go and catch every bit of woo Parrish was pitching. Whenever Parrish’s sultry, teasing voice caressed his ears, Lorne couldn’t help but go weak, his stomach fluttering and jumping with every word.

Lorne leaned over, hands on his knees. He had to get a handle on this, and soon. On the now infrequent occasions that they went off-world he would come back frazzled and aching. Spending time one on one with Parrish left Lorne wanting more and more, and he always ended up in his room, curled over on his bed, pulling frantically while replaying Parrish’s teasing words in his head. In a way, it was good the team was no longer in the regular rotation. In other ways it was just torture.

He groaned and raked his hands through his hair, then headed for his quarters.

“Okay, try it again please, Blodel,” Lorne called down the hall to the sergeant waiting at the closed armoury doors. The soldier waved her hand in front of the door sensor and immediately a shrieking wail filled the halls.

“I think it’s working, Major,” Blodel shouted, hands over her ears, retreating from the door.

Lorne tapped out a code on his PDA and the noise cut off mid-whoop. He frowned back at the door, the alarm, and Sergeant Blodel. Obviously the mad flower dropper didn’t get in by the door or he would have known about it, and so would most of the rest of the city.

“Major, Sergeant,” Doctor Parrish said as he sauntered down the hall toward them. “I could hear the alarm from a mile away, what’s going on?”

“We’re trying to figure out how someone got that flower into the armoury,” Blodel answered, sidling up to the botanist. “And how are you this fine day, Doc? I see those off world hikes are doing you some good, eh?” A smile crept across her face as she looked him up and down, admiring the view. Lorne took a step back and away from other two, eyes down, turning his face away.

“Oh, Sergeant, I bet you say that to all the scientists,” Parrish returned, leaning toward her and laughing softly.

“Maybe so, Doctor Parrish, but you’re still my favourite,” Blodel laughed. “Major, do you need anything else?” She turned to Lorne and waited to be dismissed.

“No thank you, Sergeant,” Lorne answered, waving her off. “Dismissed, and thanks for acting the guinea pig.” He stared resolutely at his data pad and willed his heart to slow down.

Blodel sketched a salute and turned to go. “Doc,” she said with a wink, turned to walk backwards a couple of steps, then smiled and walked away.

“Major Lorne,” Parrish said, turning his grin on Lorne, “I may have an answer for you.” He put his hands in his pocket and leaned back against the wall, head tilted to one side.

Lorne glanced up at the lounging man and immediately regretted it. The lopsided smile on Parrish’s lips was captivating, and he felt his breath catch in his chest. His mind emptied of all thought as his gaze stopped at the curved, smirking lips. He clutched at the data pad with both hands, holding it in front of himself like a tiny shield.

“Answer?” he asked, a little breathlessly. “To what?”

“How your little buddy invaded your armoury,” Parrish said, leaning forward a little and grinning wider, like he knew the best party in town and was inviting Lorne along.

“H- … how?” Lorne asked.

“Does that room have a duct?” Parrish asked, moving toward the locked doors. Lorne touched his pad and disarmed the room. Parrish looked back over his shoulder and winked, “Thanks.”

The two men moved through the doors together, looking up toward the high ceilings. “When I got into my lab this morning,” Parrish continued, “I found your leafy friend half way up the wall and heading toward one of the air ducts.”

Lorne headed down one wall of the cavernous room while Parrish took the other, raising his voice to continue being heard.

“It turns out that your little buddy can propel himself across surfaces and up walls. I’ll bet it was using the ducts to move around, maybe looking for something it could root itself into.” Parrish’s voice echoed through the shelving. “Though I’m surprised it didn’t like my lab. Lots of dirt there.”

“But where did it come from in the first place?” Lorne couldn’t help asking. “It’s not like there’s a lot of live plants in the city. Dead ones, sure, but no live ones.” Lorne paused. “Except yours, I guess.”

Parrish chuckled. “Couldn’t even begin to guess, Major.” He rounded the end of the shelving and started back toward Lorne along the far side of the room. “A-ha!” he cried, pointing upward. “Ducts.”

Lorne looked up. Sure enough, an air duct, with a grate over the opening, and holes large enough for a small plant to fit through. “I guess that answers that question.”

“You going to put an alarm on the duct work too, then?” Parrish asked, coming up behind Lorne, close enough that he could feel the other man’s heat.

Lorne shut his eyes and breathed through his nose, scenting the earthy smell of fresh tilled dirt and petrichor of Parrish. He swallowed. “I guess I’ll have to, yes.”

Parrish leaned toward Lorne’s ear, putting his lips almost close enough to touch. “Maybe it just wanted to be close to you,” he whispered. Lorne felt a shiver go through his scalp and down his back. He took a step forward.

“Ha, ha, Doc. Funny.” He slid the data pad into his pocket and hunched his shoulders a bit, keeping his face turned away. “I don’t think flowers want anything except sunshine. Companionship isn’t on their radar.” He started back toward the door.

“It’s on mine!” Parrish called, turning to follow.

Part 2...