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slashing_lorne2008-12-21 11:00 pm
archae-ology.livejournal.com) wrote in slashing_lorne2008-12-21 11:00 pm
Entry tags:
Twelve days of Lorne, Day Eight. (Fun, only not: G, Lorne/McKay)
Title: Fun, only not
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
archae_ology
Rating: G
Pairing: Lorne/McKay
Summary: Days off, meetings, and ratty old sweaters.
Author's notes: Much thanks toscifinut for the speedy beta and encouragement.
Evan had been in his first year of university when he had bought the oversized sweatshirt from the campus store. Sleeves hanging down over his hands, it was more than three sizes too large even after he put it through the wash, but it was comfortable and he loved it. Whenever it became too cold, he would dig it out of his closet, or wherever it happened to be stored, and he would pull it on, feeling himself begin to warm up under the thick material.
Hugging his knees to his chest, Evan yawned as he stared out over the water. Sometimes he really enjoyed his time off duty. He could relax, think, paint, really do whatever he wanted and after all the things they dealt with on a daily basis, he really enjoyed what little time he got to himself.
But he realized as his com went off, it was not going to be one of those days.
“Major Lorne?” Chuck’s voice was clear over the channel. “Sorry to interrupt you, but we need you in the command centre.”
Reaching up, he activated his end. “Understood, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Thank you sir, I’ll let Colonel Carter know.”
Evan pushed himself up from the floor and began the long walk back to the centre of the city.
It seemed to take a lot longer than it actually did, but by the time he actually made it up to the control tower a grand total of twenty minutes had passed.
The tower was mainly empty, which was surprising, but then he saw that there was a meeting currently occurring in the board room.
Catching Chuck’s eye, Evan gestured toward the board room, and his suspicions were confirmed with a nod.
“Shit.” He whispered to himself. Looking down at what he was wearing he mentally cursed himself, this was going to be fun. Only not. Shaking his head, he realized that there was no choice. He had to go in there, ratty old sweater and all. “Here we go.” He muttered to himself.
Walking into the room, Evan forced himself to stay calm, to stay professional. They had called him during his down time, they couldn’t expect him to wander around in his uniform at all times.
“Sorry I’m late.” He cleared his throat, ignoring the stares that were being directed at him.
“Major?” Carter spoke up as she eyed Evan pointedly. “What in the world are you wearing?”
“A sweater, ma’am.” He flushed brightly. “I was out at the north pier and it was cold, so I brought it out with me.”
“Alright then. Well, take a seat and we’ll continue the discussion.” Carter’s lips quirked up for a moment before settling back down.
“Yes, ma’am.” Balling his hands up inside the sleeves of his sweater, he headed for the lone seat left at the end of the row. Right next to Rodney. Rodney hated the sweater with a passion, he'd tried to convince him to throw it out time and again, but he'd refused every single time, now he was never going to live it down. Like he’d thought earlier, fun, only not.
Author:
archae_ologyRating: G
Pairing: Lorne/McKay
Summary: Days off, meetings, and ratty old sweaters.
Author's notes: Much thanks to
scifinut for the speedy beta and encouragement. Evan had been in his first year of university when he had bought the oversized sweatshirt from the campus store. Sleeves hanging down over his hands, it was more than three sizes too large even after he put it through the wash, but it was comfortable and he loved it. Whenever it became too cold, he would dig it out of his closet, or wherever it happened to be stored, and he would pull it on, feeling himself begin to warm up under the thick material.
Hugging his knees to his chest, Evan yawned as he stared out over the water. Sometimes he really enjoyed his time off duty. He could relax, think, paint, really do whatever he wanted and after all the things they dealt with on a daily basis, he really enjoyed what little time he got to himself.
But he realized as his com went off, it was not going to be one of those days.
“Major Lorne?” Chuck’s voice was clear over the channel. “Sorry to interrupt you, but we need you in the command centre.”
Reaching up, he activated his end. “Understood, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Thank you sir, I’ll let Colonel Carter know.”
Evan pushed himself up from the floor and began the long walk back to the centre of the city.
It seemed to take a lot longer than it actually did, but by the time he actually made it up to the control tower a grand total of twenty minutes had passed.
The tower was mainly empty, which was surprising, but then he saw that there was a meeting currently occurring in the board room.
Catching Chuck’s eye, Evan gestured toward the board room, and his suspicions were confirmed with a nod.
“Shit.” He whispered to himself. Looking down at what he was wearing he mentally cursed himself, this was going to be fun. Only not. Shaking his head, he realized that there was no choice. He had to go in there, ratty old sweater and all. “Here we go.” He muttered to himself.
Walking into the room, Evan forced himself to stay calm, to stay professional. They had called him during his down time, they couldn’t expect him to wander around in his uniform at all times.
“Sorry I’m late.” He cleared his throat, ignoring the stares that were being directed at him.
“Major?” Carter spoke up as she eyed Evan pointedly. “What in the world are you wearing?”
“A sweater, ma’am.” He flushed brightly. “I was out at the north pier and it was cold, so I brought it out with me.”
“Alright then. Well, take a seat and we’ll continue the discussion.” Carter’s lips quirked up for a moment before settling back down.
“Yes, ma’am.” Balling his hands up inside the sleeves of his sweater, he headed for the lone seat left at the end of the row. Right next to Rodney. Rodney hated the sweater with a passion, he'd tried to convince him to throw it out time and again, but he'd refused every single time, now he was never going to live it down. Like he’d thought earlier, fun, only not.