Blaise in Space! fanfic100 prompt 15 (Blue)
Squeaking one in before the end of the year. I had a notion of doing a holiday edition of Blaise in Space, but it just didn't happen. But this did.
Clocking in at 899 words. Whoa. That means behind a cut.
Special thanks to karitawyr who had some very helpful advice and who also flogged me into finishing this before midnight.
~*~
The guard at the first security checkpoint was appropriately scrutinizing. He checked Blaise’s identification - twice. Once to ensure it matched the person standing in front of him, again to see if it matched the paperwork he was handed. Blaise endured it patiently, resisting the urge to check his watch or tap his foot; he knew he was behind schedule, but it just would not do to get held up at security (like that cretin back at O’Hare. Blaise had watched as some git tried to hurry his way through security and got carted off by armed policeman for it).
The next checkpoint was just as secure. At this stop, Blaise’s bag was searched, and he himself was checked for weapons. The guard (airman, he was told later) directed him to the elevator he was to take to the lowest level available; there would be one final security checkpoint there.
Blaise had his papers, passport, and now a plastic visitor’s badge all ready for the airman at the desk. The airman took one glance at Blaise’s bag and badge before pushing a clipboard with a sign-in sheet toward him. It bore the legend “Atlantis Expedition” in black sharpie across the top. In the column for ‘time out’, ‘TBD’ had been filled in all the way down the page.
Perusing the rest of the sheet as he signed his name, Blaise noticed it had been some time since the last person had shown up. He wasn't so late as to miss the departure, but it was going to be a near thing.
He pushed the clipboard back across the desk when he was done. The airman raised an eyebrow, presumably at Blaise's penmanship (impeccable, as always). Gesturing with his left hand, he shot off the spiel he had likely been giving all day.
"Around the corner to the right, your right, take the elevator down to sublevel 28. Exit the elevator and follow the green line to your left. Take it until it dead-ends. Take a right, following the red line. After the second turn, two doors down on your left is the locker room. You can change there. Exit the locker room to the right. Follow the blue line straight to the gate room." The airman finally paused and looked up at Blaise. "Got that?"
Blaise blinked. "Yes, thank you." Not the simplest directions, but given that there were no stairs or corridors that were going to move on him, as it could do in a magical place, he wasn't concerned. He picked up his bag and walked around the corner to the lift.
He made it to the locker room without further event. He looked around the room. Metal lockers instead of wooden cabinets found in the Quidditch changing rooms at Hogwarts, but apparently the lingering odour of sweaty socks was universal.
Uniform donned and Muggle clothes stowed in his bag, Blaise was just lacing up his boots when someone else came in to the room. The stranger didn't seem to notice Blaise's presence, going straight to a locker and rummaging inside.
Blaise was just standing up when someone else stuck their head in and called, "Daniel, today would be good."
"Just another second, Jack!" Daniel's voice carried out from the inside of the locker. Jack rolled his eyes in response before noticing Blaise. He shrugged and closed the door behind him.
Daniel closed his locker door as Blaise hefted his bag. "Oh, hi," Daniel said distractedly. "I didn't notice you there."
"Quite alright," Blaise said. He pointed at the door. "Jack? As in General Jack O'Neill?"
"The one and only." Daniel replied, and Blaise realized he knew who this stranger must be.
"He seemed a bit impatient."
"With good reason, what with the Expedition leaving today. Speaking of which," Daniel paused and gestured at Blaise's uniform, then at the door. "Shouldn't you be in the gate room already?"
"Indeed." Blaise nodded at Daniel. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doctor Jackson." He turned and walked out the door, straight into General O'Neill. Before he could apologize, Daniel's exited the locker room and barrelled into Blaise.
"I do beg your pardon, sir," Blaise said to the General, bowing slightly.
O'Neill raised an eyebrow as he looked from Blaise to Daniel and back to Blaise again. "And you are?" Daniel turned to look at Blaise as well.
"Blaise Zabini, sir." He stood straight, effectively at attention.
"You're Zabini?" O'Neill asked incredulously. At Blaise's nod, he turned to Daniel. "I was telling you about that yesterday. The last minute addition." He turned back to Blaise. "You must have friends in high places."
"Just my stepfather, sir," Blaise acknowledged. "But I rather think he did it to get rid of me." He glanced from O'Neill to Daniel, seeing nothing in the General's expression, and something resembling sympathy in Daniel's. "Well, I guess I'd best get to the gate room." He pointed to the right and then at the lines on the floor. "Blue line takes me there, yes?"
"Yeah," O'Neill replied, setting his hand briefly on Blaise's shoulder. "Good luck out there." He turned and walked off in the opposite direction.
Daniel reached out to shake his hand. "Maybe I'll see you there."
Blaise nodded and shook hands before heading off to the gate room, concentrating on the blue line and not whether he'd ever see anybody from Earth again.
The big damn table is here.
Clocking in at 899 words. Whoa. That means behind a cut.
Special thanks to karitawyr who had some very helpful advice and who also flogged me into finishing this before midnight.
~*~
The guard at the first security checkpoint was appropriately scrutinizing. He checked Blaise’s identification - twice. Once to ensure it matched the person standing in front of him, again to see if it matched the paperwork he was handed. Blaise endured it patiently, resisting the urge to check his watch or tap his foot; he knew he was behind schedule, but it just would not do to get held up at security (like that cretin back at O’Hare. Blaise had watched as some git tried to hurry his way through security and got carted off by armed policeman for it).
The next checkpoint was just as secure. At this stop, Blaise’s bag was searched, and he himself was checked for weapons. The guard (airman, he was told later) directed him to the elevator he was to take to the lowest level available; there would be one final security checkpoint there.
Blaise had his papers, passport, and now a plastic visitor’s badge all ready for the airman at the desk. The airman took one glance at Blaise’s bag and badge before pushing a clipboard with a sign-in sheet toward him. It bore the legend “Atlantis Expedition” in black sharpie across the top. In the column for ‘time out’, ‘TBD’ had been filled in all the way down the page.
Perusing the rest of the sheet as he signed his name, Blaise noticed it had been some time since the last person had shown up. He wasn't so late as to miss the departure, but it was going to be a near thing.
He pushed the clipboard back across the desk when he was done. The airman raised an eyebrow, presumably at Blaise's penmanship (impeccable, as always). Gesturing with his left hand, he shot off the spiel he had likely been giving all day.
"Around the corner to the right, your right, take the elevator down to sublevel 28. Exit the elevator and follow the green line to your left. Take it until it dead-ends. Take a right, following the red line. After the second turn, two doors down on your left is the locker room. You can change there. Exit the locker room to the right. Follow the blue line straight to the gate room." The airman finally paused and looked up at Blaise. "Got that?"
Blaise blinked. "Yes, thank you." Not the simplest directions, but given that there were no stairs or corridors that were going to move on him, as it could do in a magical place, he wasn't concerned. He picked up his bag and walked around the corner to the lift.
He made it to the locker room without further event. He looked around the room. Metal lockers instead of wooden cabinets found in the Quidditch changing rooms at Hogwarts, but apparently the lingering odour of sweaty socks was universal.
Uniform donned and Muggle clothes stowed in his bag, Blaise was just lacing up his boots when someone else came in to the room. The stranger didn't seem to notice Blaise's presence, going straight to a locker and rummaging inside.
Blaise was just standing up when someone else stuck their head in and called, "Daniel, today would be good."
"Just another second, Jack!" Daniel's voice carried out from the inside of the locker. Jack rolled his eyes in response before noticing Blaise. He shrugged and closed the door behind him.
Daniel closed his locker door as Blaise hefted his bag. "Oh, hi," Daniel said distractedly. "I didn't notice you there."
"Quite alright," Blaise said. He pointed at the door. "Jack? As in General Jack O'Neill?"
"The one and only." Daniel replied, and Blaise realized he knew who this stranger must be.
"He seemed a bit impatient."
"With good reason, what with the Expedition leaving today. Speaking of which," Daniel paused and gestured at Blaise's uniform, then at the door. "Shouldn't you be in the gate room already?"
"Indeed." Blaise nodded at Daniel. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doctor Jackson." He turned and walked out the door, straight into General O'Neill. Before he could apologize, Daniel's exited the locker room and barrelled into Blaise.
"I do beg your pardon, sir," Blaise said to the General, bowing slightly.
O'Neill raised an eyebrow as he looked from Blaise to Daniel and back to Blaise again. "And you are?" Daniel turned to look at Blaise as well.
"Blaise Zabini, sir." He stood straight, effectively at attention.
"You're Zabini?" O'Neill asked incredulously. At Blaise's nod, he turned to Daniel. "I was telling you about that yesterday. The last minute addition." He turned back to Blaise. "You must have friends in high places."
"Just my stepfather, sir," Blaise acknowledged. "But I rather think he did it to get rid of me." He glanced from O'Neill to Daniel, seeing nothing in the General's expression, and something resembling sympathy in Daniel's. "Well, I guess I'd best get to the gate room." He pointed to the right and then at the lines on the floor. "Blue line takes me there, yes?"
"Yeah," O'Neill replied, setting his hand briefly on Blaise's shoulder. "Good luck out there." He turned and walked off in the opposite direction.
Daniel reached out to shake his hand. "Maybe I'll see you there."
Blaise nodded and shook hands before heading off to the gate room, concentrating on the blue line and not whether he'd ever see anybody from Earth again.
The big damn table is here.