Unusual Gravitation: Five Kisses Lorne Saw (multiple pairings, PG)
Title: Unusual Gravitation: Five Kisses Lorne Saw
Author: Mirabile Dictu
Fandom: SGA, and a little SG1
Pairing: multiple
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,929
Summary: The SGC was a weird fucking place.
A/N: Wonderful beta by iamrosalita, ciderpress, Mike, and auburnnothenna of the sharp eyes.
Something for dear ciderpress.
Unusual Gravitation: Five Kisses Lorne Saw
if my distance from you were doubled, the attractive force would be quartered
On P4X-304, when Lorne returned from the bushes where he'd relieved himself to check on his civilian charges, Bill Lee was staring at Dr. Jackson in a peculiarly intense way, not that all the scientists and engineers weren't a bit peculiar. But Lee's gaze was powerful.
Lorne backed up silently so as not to disturb whatever was going on. He continued to watch, just in case. Neither man was speaking; they just stared at each other. Then Jackson shook his head. To Lorne's surprise, Lee put a hand on Jackson's face, stilling him, and then leaned forward over the narrow trench separating them and kissed him.
Lorne felt his eyebrows climb into his hairline. He glanced around, but no one else was near. When he looked back, Jackson had his hands on Lee's shoulders, but he wasn't pushing him away, just holding him. Holding him rather gently while they kissed.
At last, Jackson tilted back, away from Lee, so he was sitting on his heels looking sadly at the other man. "I'm sorry," Lorne heard him say. "Bill, I'm so sorry."
"I know, Daniel," Lee said, and exhaled sharply. "Well, one kiss, eh? That was nice."
"It was nice. But really, only one."
"Or I'll get my ass kicked," Lee said cheerfully, and they went back to staring into the trench, poking at the crumbling walls with what looked like dental instruments to Lorne. "See? I told you this was half of a concentric circle. Just like we found on P6T-927."
Jackson hmphed and pushed his glasses up his nose.
~ ~ ~
a wandering star, then, is closer than a fixed wallpaper of points, linked, your orbit to my orbit
"Where's Lorne?" O'Neill asked Jackson.
"Here, sir," Lorne responded.
"There, Jack," Jackson said.
O'Neill gave Jackson a long look, one that Lorne had become accustomed to seeing between them in his years in the SGC. When O'Neill finally nodded at Jackson, he turned his attention to Lorne. "Major," he said. "Daniel seems to think there's indigenous life here that we need to respect."
"Yes, sir," he said uncertainly.
"By which he means don't be shooting the little bunnies."
"They're not bunnies, Jack," Jackson said irritably. "Major, the small mammals in the cages, the ones your men are feeding --"
"The hoppers," Lorne said. "Very tasty fried."
"Ah, yes. The hoppers. Well, I'm recommending a biologist come through to investigate. That's not my area of specialty, but Sam thinks there's some chance they have a tiny amount of naquadah in them."
"We've been eating naquadah." Lorne felt sick to his stomach.
"Possibly. Sam usually can tell."
"Shit," he murmured. He'd eaten them every day since he'd arrived on this planet. "What will that do to us?"
"Not to worry," O'Neill said, sounding remarkably cheerful. Well, he hadn't been eating the equivalent of radioactive alien food.
"Probably nothing," Jackson said more seriously. "But I've also asked Doctor Fraiser to send someone through the gate. It's good to investigate these things right away."
To find out more before they let him and his men go back to Earth, Lorne realized. "Shit," he said again. He felt like puking, but last night's dinner was long digested. It was all psychosomatic, and he wasn't ready to reveal any weakness in front of O'Neill. Jackson would understand, but O'Neill would enjoy it too much.
"I'll go tell the men," he said at last, gesturing toward their camp. O'Neill nodded.
When he turned, he heard Jackson say, "That wasn't very nice of you. You'd worry if you learned you'd been eating naquadah."
"Would not."
"Would, too."
"Would not."
"You would, too, worry, Jack."
"Oh, hell. Think of the shit we've eaten over the years, Daniel. A little bit of naquadah isn't gonna hurt anybody. Probably just go right through 'em."
"Still. You could show a bit more empathy."
"I'll show you empathy," O'Neill said in what Lorne could only describe as a pornographic voice. He paused and, against his better judgment, looked back. Through the heavy scrim of the trees, he could see O'Neill and Jackson kissing, Jackson laughing through it. They kissed for a long time, a dirty kiss that ended with both of them rubbing up against each other. "Daniel," O'Neill said in a strangled voice, and then kissed him again, harder. Jackson kissed back just as hard, holding O'Neill in what must be a bone-bruising grip. Nothing like the sad and gentle kiss Lorne had witnessed him sharing with Lee months ago.
Lorne had overheard rumors, but he didn't joke with his men about things like this. He hurried back to the camp as quietly as he could. He didn't need to know more.
~ ~ ~
your speed is sufficient to prevent your falling
Lorne had liked Ford. They'd served together at the SGC and had been on a number of missions together, usually big ones assisting the scientists, sometimes by guarding their camp, but often pitching in to help dig trenches for the archaeologists and geologists, to lug specimens for the botanists and hydrologists, to prepare and maintain camp, and to safeguard everyone. Ford's good nature and high spirits made everything a bit easier for Lorne, especially at the end of a long two weeks on a sweltering hot or bitterly cold world.
So when Ford disappeared, wraithed-out they said, Lorne was sorry. He'd been a good kid: a hard worker who Lorne knew would have grown up into a fine leader. He sent his own letter to Ford's grandparents as soon as he heard the bad news. But he'd lost other friends and colleagues, and he knew he'd lose more. Military was military, on Earth or in Atlantis.
The SGC was a weird fucking place and he'd met a lot of aliens during his stint there. He'd liked them more than not, even the poor bastards whose souls had been owned by the Goa'uld. He hated the fucking parasites inside them, Goa'uld and Tok'ra alike, but he could work with Jacob Carter -- he still looked like the general Lorne respected, at least when his eyes weren't flashing and Selmak barking out instructions that even O'Neill tended to follow.
Having Ronon in Atlantis didn't bother Lorne; nobody xenophobic lasted long at the SGC, or volunteered for Atlantis even with the promise of a return via the Daedalus. There were plenty of assholes in Atlantis, but they tended to be assholes for different reasons. Ronon outweighed Lorne by a hundred pounds and towered over him, but Lorne was used to that. He knew he was at the low end of the spectrum. That wasn't what bothered Lorne.
What bothered Lorne about Ronon was how quickly Sheppard had invited him to join his team. Not that Lorne had expected to replace Ford on that team; Sheppard had never intended -- nor been intended -- to oversee an entire base. He hated the administrativia and happily delegated it all to Lorne. That was okay. He knew his strengths, and he knew he gained a lot of authority by assuming these responsibilities so willingly. Sheppard was grateful in his easy-going way. But that meant the flagship of Atlantis was composed of two aliens, a scientist, and Sheppard.
Lorne got to know Ronon pretty quickly; they worked out and ran together. Ronon didn't talk much, but that worked for Lorne. He didn't have much to say himself; he was too busy trying to keep up.
He got to know Teyla as well, though not as quickly. She taught her stick fighting class that Sheppard declared mandatory. Lorne agreed it was worth the time, even if it was embarrassing to be knocked to his knees by a slip of a thing with a brilliant and forgiving smile.
He liked them. He still wasn't sure they should both be on Sheppard's first-contact team, but he liked them.
So he only smiled when he walked in on Ronon bending over Teyla, lightly stroking her upturned face. Lorne froze, but neither of them seemed to have heard him. Since Ronon could hear a rustle in the forest on the mainland, Lorne knew how caught up in Teyla he must be.
He watched for a few minutes. He couldn't see Ronon's face, but his hands were gentle on Teyla's face, tracing her smile. She kissed Ronon's fingers and tilted her head; Ronon slowly leaned down and their lips met, softly, sweetly. Lorne heard Ronon groan, an almost painful noise of want and need. When Teyla reached up to wind her arms around Ronon's shoulders, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist.
Lorne tiptoed away, still smiling. He stood in the corridor outside the gym where he'd found them, almost at attention. He knew that, from there, he would hear them when they left and would be able to slip away before they knew he was ever there. From here he could also prevent anyone else from walking in on them.
He wasn't sure what this meant to their team, but he hadn't complained to Sheppard or Weir before and he certainly wasn't going to now. Love and affection was in short supply everywhere, and the Pegasus Galaxy was a hard, hard place. Let Sheppard deal with this development in his own way.
Lorne crossed his arms and waited.
~ ~ ~
watch here this diagram: a balanced reflector can detect a planet through its disc-like appearance or its motion against a background of stars
Lorne got used to Dr. McKay but he never felt entirely comfortable around him. Their senses of humor were too different, McKay talked too much, and he was too openly contemptuous of too many things Lorne cared about. Still, he was a brilliant scientist who'd saved their asses, more times than Lorne liked to know he'd been at risk. McKay had earned Lorne's respect and even his tolerance.
But tolerance wasn't what Sheppard felt, Lorne could tell. Sheppard seemed to delight in urging McKay on to operatic heights of discontent. They snapped at each other, but Lorne saw how much time they spent watching each other, too. No matter what the news, the first person Sheppard checked was McKay, and the first person McKay checked was Sheppard. Only then would they turn to Dr. Weir.
They spent their downtime together, too, which Lorne found inexplicable. Hours trudging offworld with McKay made Lorne feel like he was covered in poison oak. He was always happy to get back to Atlantis and away from the non-stop barrage of grumbling and sarcasm. Lorne prided himself on his patience, but occasionally he'd snap right back. McKay always looked surprised to see him, as if he wasn't sure who Lorne was. That just made him wish even more that he'd kept his mouth shut.
But if his commanding officer wanted to spend what little free time he had with a big-mouthed whining genius, that was his business, not Lorne's. Better Sheppard than him, he told himself, but he couldn't help wonder about it, the way he'd wondered about Jackson and O'Neill's unlikely friendship.
Sheppard was a lot smarter than he liked to let on, Lorne slowly learned. He was canny: he had Lorne doing all his paperwork within a day of Lorne's arrival in Atlantis, and taking pride in the fact that he did, until he'd gone through the prior year's reports. Even though Sheppard hadn't known if he'd ever see Earth or the SGC again, he'd kept impeccable records. He knew his men, and they respected him; that was more than could be said of many of Lorne's COs. He eventually realized that Sheppard was smart in a way that McKay could appreciate; not just canny, but knowledgeable even in McKay's fields.
At the end of Lorne's third year in Atlantis, he realized he'd gotten used to McKay. That was good; no use letting himself be irritated by someone who would clearly never leave. Lorne had known McKay at the SGC, and certainly knew his reputation. He'd been exiled first to Siberia and then to Antarctica, and who did that happen to? Well, Sheppard, Lorne thought. Two misfits who finally found a home.
He stared down at them. He was on a balcony high above the city; his own private place, he thought. He loved it here. The wind was cool and salty against his face, and he could see the curve of the world embracing him. Standing up here was a bit like flying; not the nearly silent puddlejumpers, but a hang-glider, soaring above the water, watching the whitecaps and an occasional jumping fish.
Today, though, he wasn't entirely alone, and what were the odds of that? He'd leaned far out over the railing but this time discovered two people embracing on another private balcony, one below him and closer to the north pylon. At his angle, he could clearly see they were Sheppard and McKay, doing something Lorne could never ask about, and something he'd never tell anyone about.
He crossed his arms on the balcony railing and let himself watch. There was no way they could see him. They weren't having outdoor sex; he was pretty sure he wouldn't have stayed to watch them fuck. But they were kissing and laughing and what could only be described as snuggling.
Lorne discovered he didn't care. His CO was a fag, but he didn't care. O'Neill and Jackson were together now as well; O'Neill had finally retired and moved back to Colorado Springs where they shared a home. Another military man and a scientist, so not a pairing unknown to Lorne, even if he couldn't understand it. He liked Jackson a lot, and had grown accustomed to McKay, but this? Not something he was interested in.
Except he was enjoying watching them. Secure in his invisibility, he let himself enjoy their pleasure. Who knew what they were celebrating? There was so much scary shit in this galaxy that simply taking another breath was worth a celebration.
While he watched they calmed, their laughter grew quieter, and they leaned against each other, kissing. Lorne shook his head, suddenly aware that he was smiling. Well, good for them, he thought. If they can put up with each other, good for them.
After a while, they went indoors, and he went back to studying the distant horizon, enjoying his solitude and freedom so high above the city.
~ ~ ~
each casts its influence upon the other, each orbit moves slightly, each moved
Their mission had been an unqualified success. When Lorne had stepped across the threshold of the stargate in Atlantis, he held Dr. Weir's elbow, as courteous as if they were at their prom, while she carried the ZPM. McKay had screeched, turned pale, turned bright red, and snatched it from her, shouting, "Zelenka! Radek!" over his mic. Sheppard had stared at the ZPM as if it were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, silently watching its transfer from Weir's arms to McKay's, and then looked at Lorne.
"Piece of cake," Lorne said, knowing he was smiling like an idiot.
Weir laughed. "It really was, John. They just, we just --" She looked at Lorne, who shrugged. "Piece of cake," she finally said, and they laughed, really laughed, tears of happiness gleaming on Weir's face.
"Sheppard, come now," McKay's voice echoed through the Operations Center, and Sheppard had obediently taken off, heading toward the ZPM outlet room after McKay while Weir and Lorne tried to calm their laughter.
"Major, I might be a bit hysterical," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
He took out a handkerchief and patted her face dry. "I think you're entitled," he said. "I think we both are." He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was still too thin, he thought, but her smile was more brilliant than he'd ever seen, and he was happy to stand in the middle of the gateroom while Atlantis rejoiced around them.
"Dr. Weir?" one of the gate technicians called.
She said, "Let everyone know. And let Rodney tell them." The technician beamed at her, tapping at his keyboard, and then Lorne heard McKay's voice in his ear saying, "Yes, it's lovely, out of the way please, wasting power, what part of the word move don't you understand?" Then the lights flickered and the floor rumbled, and a wave of pleasure swept through Lorne.
Weir looked at him, still smiling, and he impulsively hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. She felt wonderful, trembling with excitement, and he found he was shaking a bit himself. She smelled so good, as sweet as the air of Atlantis, and she was so warm in his arms. He pulled away just enough to see her face; her eyes immediately dropped to his mouth, and he knew what she wanted. He knew what he wanted.
He kissed her. Right there in the gateroom, in front of the technicians and scientists in the Operations Center, in front of two Marines, Lt. Coughlin, and that new anthropologist whose name he couldn't pronounce. Best of all, she kissed him back enthusiastically, moaning softly into his mouth.
"I'm an idiot," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I am such an idiot."
"I wondered," she said, but she was smiling, tears filling her eyes again. He could see himself reflected there, two tiny majors.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, and kissed her again to the sound of all of Atlantis rejoicing.
Title and section headers from Unusual Gravitation, by Marcella Durand.
Author: Mirabile Dictu
Fandom: SGA, and a little SG1
Pairing: multiple
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,929
Summary: The SGC was a weird fucking place.
A/N: Wonderful beta by iamrosalita, ciderpress, Mike, and auburnnothenna of the sharp eyes.
Something for dear ciderpress.
Unusual Gravitation: Five Kisses Lorne Saw
if my distance from you were doubled, the attractive force would be quartered
On P4X-304, when Lorne returned from the bushes where he'd relieved himself to check on his civilian charges, Bill Lee was staring at Dr. Jackson in a peculiarly intense way, not that all the scientists and engineers weren't a bit peculiar. But Lee's gaze was powerful.
Lorne backed up silently so as not to disturb whatever was going on. He continued to watch, just in case. Neither man was speaking; they just stared at each other. Then Jackson shook his head. To Lorne's surprise, Lee put a hand on Jackson's face, stilling him, and then leaned forward over the narrow trench separating them and kissed him.
Lorne felt his eyebrows climb into his hairline. He glanced around, but no one else was near. When he looked back, Jackson had his hands on Lee's shoulders, but he wasn't pushing him away, just holding him. Holding him rather gently while they kissed.
At last, Jackson tilted back, away from Lee, so he was sitting on his heels looking sadly at the other man. "I'm sorry," Lorne heard him say. "Bill, I'm so sorry."
"I know, Daniel," Lee said, and exhaled sharply. "Well, one kiss, eh? That was nice."
"It was nice. But really, only one."
"Or I'll get my ass kicked," Lee said cheerfully, and they went back to staring into the trench, poking at the crumbling walls with what looked like dental instruments to Lorne. "See? I told you this was half of a concentric circle. Just like we found on P6T-927."
Jackson hmphed and pushed his glasses up his nose.
~ ~ ~
a wandering star, then, is closer than a fixed wallpaper of points, linked, your orbit to my orbit
"Where's Lorne?" O'Neill asked Jackson.
"Here, sir," Lorne responded.
"There, Jack," Jackson said.
O'Neill gave Jackson a long look, one that Lorne had become accustomed to seeing between them in his years in the SGC. When O'Neill finally nodded at Jackson, he turned his attention to Lorne. "Major," he said. "Daniel seems to think there's indigenous life here that we need to respect."
"Yes, sir," he said uncertainly.
"By which he means don't be shooting the little bunnies."
"They're not bunnies, Jack," Jackson said irritably. "Major, the small mammals in the cages, the ones your men are feeding --"
"The hoppers," Lorne said. "Very tasty fried."
"Ah, yes. The hoppers. Well, I'm recommending a biologist come through to investigate. That's not my area of specialty, but Sam thinks there's some chance they have a tiny amount of naquadah in them."
"We've been eating naquadah." Lorne felt sick to his stomach.
"Possibly. Sam usually can tell."
"Shit," he murmured. He'd eaten them every day since he'd arrived on this planet. "What will that do to us?"
"Not to worry," O'Neill said, sounding remarkably cheerful. Well, he hadn't been eating the equivalent of radioactive alien food.
"Probably nothing," Jackson said more seriously. "But I've also asked Doctor Fraiser to send someone through the gate. It's good to investigate these things right away."
To find out more before they let him and his men go back to Earth, Lorne realized. "Shit," he said again. He felt like puking, but last night's dinner was long digested. It was all psychosomatic, and he wasn't ready to reveal any weakness in front of O'Neill. Jackson would understand, but O'Neill would enjoy it too much.
"I'll go tell the men," he said at last, gesturing toward their camp. O'Neill nodded.
When he turned, he heard Jackson say, "That wasn't very nice of you. You'd worry if you learned you'd been eating naquadah."
"Would not."
"Would, too."
"Would not."
"You would, too, worry, Jack."
"Oh, hell. Think of the shit we've eaten over the years, Daniel. A little bit of naquadah isn't gonna hurt anybody. Probably just go right through 'em."
"Still. You could show a bit more empathy."
"I'll show you empathy," O'Neill said in what Lorne could only describe as a pornographic voice. He paused and, against his better judgment, looked back. Through the heavy scrim of the trees, he could see O'Neill and Jackson kissing, Jackson laughing through it. They kissed for a long time, a dirty kiss that ended with both of them rubbing up against each other. "Daniel," O'Neill said in a strangled voice, and then kissed him again, harder. Jackson kissed back just as hard, holding O'Neill in what must be a bone-bruising grip. Nothing like the sad and gentle kiss Lorne had witnessed him sharing with Lee months ago.
Lorne had overheard rumors, but he didn't joke with his men about things like this. He hurried back to the camp as quietly as he could. He didn't need to know more.
~ ~ ~
your speed is sufficient to prevent your falling
Lorne had liked Ford. They'd served together at the SGC and had been on a number of missions together, usually big ones assisting the scientists, sometimes by guarding their camp, but often pitching in to help dig trenches for the archaeologists and geologists, to lug specimens for the botanists and hydrologists, to prepare and maintain camp, and to safeguard everyone. Ford's good nature and high spirits made everything a bit easier for Lorne, especially at the end of a long two weeks on a sweltering hot or bitterly cold world.
So when Ford disappeared, wraithed-out they said, Lorne was sorry. He'd been a good kid: a hard worker who Lorne knew would have grown up into a fine leader. He sent his own letter to Ford's grandparents as soon as he heard the bad news. But he'd lost other friends and colleagues, and he knew he'd lose more. Military was military, on Earth or in Atlantis.
The SGC was a weird fucking place and he'd met a lot of aliens during his stint there. He'd liked them more than not, even the poor bastards whose souls had been owned by the Goa'uld. He hated the fucking parasites inside them, Goa'uld and Tok'ra alike, but he could work with Jacob Carter -- he still looked like the general Lorne respected, at least when his eyes weren't flashing and Selmak barking out instructions that even O'Neill tended to follow.
Having Ronon in Atlantis didn't bother Lorne; nobody xenophobic lasted long at the SGC, or volunteered for Atlantis even with the promise of a return via the Daedalus. There were plenty of assholes in Atlantis, but they tended to be assholes for different reasons. Ronon outweighed Lorne by a hundred pounds and towered over him, but Lorne was used to that. He knew he was at the low end of the spectrum. That wasn't what bothered Lorne.
What bothered Lorne about Ronon was how quickly Sheppard had invited him to join his team. Not that Lorne had expected to replace Ford on that team; Sheppard had never intended -- nor been intended -- to oversee an entire base. He hated the administrativia and happily delegated it all to Lorne. That was okay. He knew his strengths, and he knew he gained a lot of authority by assuming these responsibilities so willingly. Sheppard was grateful in his easy-going way. But that meant the flagship of Atlantis was composed of two aliens, a scientist, and Sheppard.
Lorne got to know Ronon pretty quickly; they worked out and ran together. Ronon didn't talk much, but that worked for Lorne. He didn't have much to say himself; he was too busy trying to keep up.
He got to know Teyla as well, though not as quickly. She taught her stick fighting class that Sheppard declared mandatory. Lorne agreed it was worth the time, even if it was embarrassing to be knocked to his knees by a slip of a thing with a brilliant and forgiving smile.
He liked them. He still wasn't sure they should both be on Sheppard's first-contact team, but he liked them.
So he only smiled when he walked in on Ronon bending over Teyla, lightly stroking her upturned face. Lorne froze, but neither of them seemed to have heard him. Since Ronon could hear a rustle in the forest on the mainland, Lorne knew how caught up in Teyla he must be.
He watched for a few minutes. He couldn't see Ronon's face, but his hands were gentle on Teyla's face, tracing her smile. She kissed Ronon's fingers and tilted her head; Ronon slowly leaned down and their lips met, softly, sweetly. Lorne heard Ronon groan, an almost painful noise of want and need. When Teyla reached up to wind her arms around Ronon's shoulders, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist.
Lorne tiptoed away, still smiling. He stood in the corridor outside the gym where he'd found them, almost at attention. He knew that, from there, he would hear them when they left and would be able to slip away before they knew he was ever there. From here he could also prevent anyone else from walking in on them.
He wasn't sure what this meant to their team, but he hadn't complained to Sheppard or Weir before and he certainly wasn't going to now. Love and affection was in short supply everywhere, and the Pegasus Galaxy was a hard, hard place. Let Sheppard deal with this development in his own way.
Lorne crossed his arms and waited.
~ ~ ~
watch here this diagram: a balanced reflector can detect a planet through its disc-like appearance or its motion against a background of stars
Lorne got used to Dr. McKay but he never felt entirely comfortable around him. Their senses of humor were too different, McKay talked too much, and he was too openly contemptuous of too many things Lorne cared about. Still, he was a brilliant scientist who'd saved their asses, more times than Lorne liked to know he'd been at risk. McKay had earned Lorne's respect and even his tolerance.
But tolerance wasn't what Sheppard felt, Lorne could tell. Sheppard seemed to delight in urging McKay on to operatic heights of discontent. They snapped at each other, but Lorne saw how much time they spent watching each other, too. No matter what the news, the first person Sheppard checked was McKay, and the first person McKay checked was Sheppard. Only then would they turn to Dr. Weir.
They spent their downtime together, too, which Lorne found inexplicable. Hours trudging offworld with McKay made Lorne feel like he was covered in poison oak. He was always happy to get back to Atlantis and away from the non-stop barrage of grumbling and sarcasm. Lorne prided himself on his patience, but occasionally he'd snap right back. McKay always looked surprised to see him, as if he wasn't sure who Lorne was. That just made him wish even more that he'd kept his mouth shut.
But if his commanding officer wanted to spend what little free time he had with a big-mouthed whining genius, that was his business, not Lorne's. Better Sheppard than him, he told himself, but he couldn't help wonder about it, the way he'd wondered about Jackson and O'Neill's unlikely friendship.
Sheppard was a lot smarter than he liked to let on, Lorne slowly learned. He was canny: he had Lorne doing all his paperwork within a day of Lorne's arrival in Atlantis, and taking pride in the fact that he did, until he'd gone through the prior year's reports. Even though Sheppard hadn't known if he'd ever see Earth or the SGC again, he'd kept impeccable records. He knew his men, and they respected him; that was more than could be said of many of Lorne's COs. He eventually realized that Sheppard was smart in a way that McKay could appreciate; not just canny, but knowledgeable even in McKay's fields.
At the end of Lorne's third year in Atlantis, he realized he'd gotten used to McKay. That was good; no use letting himself be irritated by someone who would clearly never leave. Lorne had known McKay at the SGC, and certainly knew his reputation. He'd been exiled first to Siberia and then to Antarctica, and who did that happen to? Well, Sheppard, Lorne thought. Two misfits who finally found a home.
He stared down at them. He was on a balcony high above the city; his own private place, he thought. He loved it here. The wind was cool and salty against his face, and he could see the curve of the world embracing him. Standing up here was a bit like flying; not the nearly silent puddlejumpers, but a hang-glider, soaring above the water, watching the whitecaps and an occasional jumping fish.
Today, though, he wasn't entirely alone, and what were the odds of that? He'd leaned far out over the railing but this time discovered two people embracing on another private balcony, one below him and closer to the north pylon. At his angle, he could clearly see they were Sheppard and McKay, doing something Lorne could never ask about, and something he'd never tell anyone about.
He crossed his arms on the balcony railing and let himself watch. There was no way they could see him. They weren't having outdoor sex; he was pretty sure he wouldn't have stayed to watch them fuck. But they were kissing and laughing and what could only be described as snuggling.
Lorne discovered he didn't care. His CO was a fag, but he didn't care. O'Neill and Jackson were together now as well; O'Neill had finally retired and moved back to Colorado Springs where they shared a home. Another military man and a scientist, so not a pairing unknown to Lorne, even if he couldn't understand it. He liked Jackson a lot, and had grown accustomed to McKay, but this? Not something he was interested in.
Except he was enjoying watching them. Secure in his invisibility, he let himself enjoy their pleasure. Who knew what they were celebrating? There was so much scary shit in this galaxy that simply taking another breath was worth a celebration.
While he watched they calmed, their laughter grew quieter, and they leaned against each other, kissing. Lorne shook his head, suddenly aware that he was smiling. Well, good for them, he thought. If they can put up with each other, good for them.
After a while, they went indoors, and he went back to studying the distant horizon, enjoying his solitude and freedom so high above the city.
~ ~ ~
each casts its influence upon the other, each orbit moves slightly, each moved
Their mission had been an unqualified success. When Lorne had stepped across the threshold of the stargate in Atlantis, he held Dr. Weir's elbow, as courteous as if they were at their prom, while she carried the ZPM. McKay had screeched, turned pale, turned bright red, and snatched it from her, shouting, "Zelenka! Radek!" over his mic. Sheppard had stared at the ZPM as if it were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, silently watching its transfer from Weir's arms to McKay's, and then looked at Lorne.
"Piece of cake," Lorne said, knowing he was smiling like an idiot.
Weir laughed. "It really was, John. They just, we just --" She looked at Lorne, who shrugged. "Piece of cake," she finally said, and they laughed, really laughed, tears of happiness gleaming on Weir's face.
"Sheppard, come now," McKay's voice echoed through the Operations Center, and Sheppard had obediently taken off, heading toward the ZPM outlet room after McKay while Weir and Lorne tried to calm their laughter.
"Major, I might be a bit hysterical," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
He took out a handkerchief and patted her face dry. "I think you're entitled," he said. "I think we both are." He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was still too thin, he thought, but her smile was more brilliant than he'd ever seen, and he was happy to stand in the middle of the gateroom while Atlantis rejoiced around them.
"Dr. Weir?" one of the gate technicians called.
She said, "Let everyone know. And let Rodney tell them." The technician beamed at her, tapping at his keyboard, and then Lorne heard McKay's voice in his ear saying, "Yes, it's lovely, out of the way please, wasting power, what part of the word move don't you understand?" Then the lights flickered and the floor rumbled, and a wave of pleasure swept through Lorne.
Weir looked at him, still smiling, and he impulsively hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. She felt wonderful, trembling with excitement, and he found he was shaking a bit himself. She smelled so good, as sweet as the air of Atlantis, and she was so warm in his arms. He pulled away just enough to see her face; her eyes immediately dropped to his mouth, and he knew what she wanted. He knew what he wanted.
He kissed her. Right there in the gateroom, in front of the technicians and scientists in the Operations Center, in front of two Marines, Lt. Coughlin, and that new anthropologist whose name he couldn't pronounce. Best of all, she kissed him back enthusiastically, moaning softly into his mouth.
"I'm an idiot," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I am such an idiot."
"I wondered," she said, but she was smiling, tears filling her eyes again. He could see himself reflected there, two tiny majors.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, and kissed her again to the sound of all of Atlantis rejoicing.
Title and section headers from Unusual Gravitation, by Marcella Durand.