Fic: Spectroscopy
Jul. 24th, 2006 11:55 amLa la la lunchbreak fic!
Title: Spectroscopy
Rating: PG
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Length: ~1300 words
Summary: A binary star is a stellar system consisting of two stars orbiting around their center of mass. For each star, the other is its companion star.
Spectroscopy
Alcor fell in beside him in the corridor. “I have a surprise for you.”
Mizar glanced down to hide his smile. “What?”
“I want to show you.”
“You built me something?” Alcor was always building things. Since they were both very young, he had displayed an inventive mind and clever hands. (Mizar suspected that he was perhaps the only one to know precisely how clever those hands were.) When they were still boys, Alcor’s “meddling” had irritated the elders almost as much as some of Mizar’s own stunts, but Janus had always encouraged him—both of them, really—and now some spoke of Alcor as their last great hope against defeat.
“Not exactly.” Alcor grinned, lips slanting upward into a familiar crooked smile. He reached out a hand and Mizar took it, palm sliding into palm, as habitual as breathing. “Come on.”
Mizar allowed himself to be led, although his legs were longer and he was—as he had always been—the faster and stronger one. Alcor jerked him into a transporter and pressed a careless hand against the screen. As the doors slid shut they came together. When they were little, Trebal had teased them, telling horror stories of transporter accidents in which the occupants had rematerialized with their bodies meshed together, or each possessed of the other’s arms and legs. Mizar had never put much faith in these stories, but he’d always perversely enjoyed watching Alcor listen to them, his knowledge of the science behind the transporters warring with the state of awe in which he held Trebal, and every word that passed between her slow-smiling lips.
But now they were grown up and Trebal’s smiles came ever slower, and Mizar and Alcor had both decided that there were worse fates than transporter accidents, than being bound together forever and ever.
The doors slid open on another level and they drew apart, the whole thing so fast that they might never have touched. But Mizar’s hand was still in Alcor’s, and Mizar squeezed it as Alcor led him around the bend. Alcor turned back and smiled. “Look,” he said.
Mizar looked. They were in a residential section, standing in front of one of many closed doors. Mizar’s brow furrowed. “What? What is it?”
Alcor inclined his head and the door slid open. He gave Mizar’s arm a tug, coaxing him inside. The room was of a medium size—not meant for a family, but not one of the tiny, ascetic chambers that some of the scientists and most of the Ascension nuts preferred. It was clean and white, with a large, comfortable bed, and of course, a beautiful view of the ocean.
Alcor grinned at him, although Mizar could see the creases of worry around his eyes. “What do you think?”
“Uh.” Mizar realized that his shock and confusion must be showing on his face, because they were reflected right back at him in the growing apprehension in Alcor’s eyes. “Are you—are you seriously asking me—“
“To make a joint requisition of quarters, yes.” Alcor gave his chin a brave tilt. “I—I think we’re old enough—“
“We’re seventeen.”
“Old enough,” Alcor repeated, mouth set. “In times like these…”
“You don’t need to remind me.” Mizar let his hand drop. “Alcor…you know I…”
He trailed off. Alcor looked at him, then after a moment, sat down heavily on the bed. “You don’t have to say it.”
“I do, though,” Mizar insisted. “It’s just…you’re the only one I’ve ever—“
“And you are likewise the only one I have been with. In any sense, Mizar. There is no one else.”
“There’s Trebal,” Mizar joked, awkwardly. It was meant to be awkward, an intentionally lame attempt to make Alcor smile. But Alcor’s eyes darkened, his gaze turning toward his hands, folded in his lap.
“Trebal has invited me to join the crew of the Aurora.”
Mizar felt cold. “No. No, you’re needed here!”
Alcor glanced up. “Captain Brieuse says I could be of great use to him,” he said stiffly. Then he lowered his voice, leaning forward. Mizar leaned closer to meet him, almost inexorably.
“There are a few things that Trebal told me in confidence. This mission—it could be of the gravest importance—“
A sudden flush, and Mizar felt heat replace coolness. “Then why are you asking me to share quarters with you? If you are just going to be leaving, why bother with a pointless, symbolic gesture that doesn’t change anything…”
“It’s not pointless.” Alcor watched him with wide eyes. “And I haven’t made up my mind yet. About going. I was hoping that you could convince me, one way or the other.”
Mizar’s fists clenched. “This isn’t fair!” he spat.
“No, it’s not.” Alcor’s gaze had returned to his lap, to the hands twisting there. “I am so scared, Mizar. We’ve lived our whole lives in the shadow of this war. I just want it to be over.” He looked up. “I want to make it end.”
He was exhausted, Mizar realized, all the energy and mirth he had displayed in the hallway drained from him like— He looked much older than his seventeen years. They both did.
Mizar sucked in a breath, then knelt down beside him. “There are other ways,” he said. “You’ve seen the schematics I’ve been working on, for the jumper improvements—“
“Gateships,” Alcor said. As habitual as breathing, “They’re called gateships.”
“Mine are puddlejumpers.” Mizar’s smile was almost genuine. “And with the work you and Janus are doing, maybe soon…”
“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to work with Janus,” Alcor said, willfully biting back a sigh. “Even if I don’t go on the Aurora, Moros has asked me to transfer my focus to Project Arcturus…”
Mizar managed another grin. He also put a hand on Alcor’s knee, and that came much easier. “You’re going to build me a superweapon, Alcor?”
Alcor rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips was quirking up. “Maybe.”
“You always make the best toys.” Mizar’s hand slid along Alcor’s thigh. “See? You should stay.”
Alcor covered Mizar’s hand with his own, forcing his gaze upward. They regarded each other. Mizar looked at Alcor: his best friend, his childhood partner-in-crime, his adult lover. He thought about that moment when the transporter doors slid closed and they existed together in nothingness. He thought it really wouldn’t be so bad, to remain that way forever.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said. “I promise.”
Alcor’s face broke out into a wide, relieved grin.
“But you have to promise me, too,” Mizar said, with a sudden intensity that surprised even him. He took a breath, then pulled himself up until he was straddling Alcor’s legs, cupping his cheek. “That no matter what happens, you’ll find a way. We’ll find a way. Do you understand me? We’ll find a way to—“
“Yes,” Alcor said. Kissing him, “Yes, yes. I promise, Mizar.” They held each other up for a long moment before collapsing back onto the bed. “I promise.”
Then they lay together in their bright white room, and forgot about the world and the war for a little while.
John woke with his body curled in on itself, tight up against the far side of the bed. He got up and stretched, showered, dressed. He strapped on his gear with mechanical precision, though his mind felt distant, elsewhere. He shook his head to clear it, then went out into the hallway.
In the corridor he fell into step beside Rodney. “McKay.”
“Colonel.”
John flexed his fingers. “I hope you’re not too busy,” he said after a moment, and with the ease of great practice, rode right over Rodney’s protests explaining exactly how busy he was. “Because I don’t know about you, but today feels like the perfect day to go exploring.”
They stepped into the transporter. John tapped the map, then turned. The last thing he saw before the doors slid shut was Rodney’s face as it lit up, excitement and joy as familiar to him as breathing.
NOTES:
1. Summary from Wikipedia, “Binary Stars.”
2. And yes, I think this is part of a larger thing, but I don’t have the attention span at the moment to do it in anything other than little bits. I hope that’s all right.
Title: Spectroscopy
Rating: PG
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Length: ~1300 words
Summary: A binary star is a stellar system consisting of two stars orbiting around their center of mass. For each star, the other is its companion star.
Spectroscopy
Alcor fell in beside him in the corridor. “I have a surprise for you.”
Mizar glanced down to hide his smile. “What?”
“I want to show you.”
“You built me something?” Alcor was always building things. Since they were both very young, he had displayed an inventive mind and clever hands. (Mizar suspected that he was perhaps the only one to know precisely how clever those hands were.) When they were still boys, Alcor’s “meddling” had irritated the elders almost as much as some of Mizar’s own stunts, but Janus had always encouraged him—both of them, really—and now some spoke of Alcor as their last great hope against defeat.
“Not exactly.” Alcor grinned, lips slanting upward into a familiar crooked smile. He reached out a hand and Mizar took it, palm sliding into palm, as habitual as breathing. “Come on.”
Mizar allowed himself to be led, although his legs were longer and he was—as he had always been—the faster and stronger one. Alcor jerked him into a transporter and pressed a careless hand against the screen. As the doors slid shut they came together. When they were little, Trebal had teased them, telling horror stories of transporter accidents in which the occupants had rematerialized with their bodies meshed together, or each possessed of the other’s arms and legs. Mizar had never put much faith in these stories, but he’d always perversely enjoyed watching Alcor listen to them, his knowledge of the science behind the transporters warring with the state of awe in which he held Trebal, and every word that passed between her slow-smiling lips.
But now they were grown up and Trebal’s smiles came ever slower, and Mizar and Alcor had both decided that there were worse fates than transporter accidents, than being bound together forever and ever.
The doors slid open on another level and they drew apart, the whole thing so fast that they might never have touched. But Mizar’s hand was still in Alcor’s, and Mizar squeezed it as Alcor led him around the bend. Alcor turned back and smiled. “Look,” he said.
Mizar looked. They were in a residential section, standing in front of one of many closed doors. Mizar’s brow furrowed. “What? What is it?”
Alcor inclined his head and the door slid open. He gave Mizar’s arm a tug, coaxing him inside. The room was of a medium size—not meant for a family, but not one of the tiny, ascetic chambers that some of the scientists and most of the Ascension nuts preferred. It was clean and white, with a large, comfortable bed, and of course, a beautiful view of the ocean.
Alcor grinned at him, although Mizar could see the creases of worry around his eyes. “What do you think?”
“Uh.” Mizar realized that his shock and confusion must be showing on his face, because they were reflected right back at him in the growing apprehension in Alcor’s eyes. “Are you—are you seriously asking me—“
“To make a joint requisition of quarters, yes.” Alcor gave his chin a brave tilt. “I—I think we’re old enough—“
“We’re seventeen.”
“Old enough,” Alcor repeated, mouth set. “In times like these…”
“You don’t need to remind me.” Mizar let his hand drop. “Alcor…you know I…”
He trailed off. Alcor looked at him, then after a moment, sat down heavily on the bed. “You don’t have to say it.”
“I do, though,” Mizar insisted. “It’s just…you’re the only one I’ve ever—“
“And you are likewise the only one I have been with. In any sense, Mizar. There is no one else.”
“There’s Trebal,” Mizar joked, awkwardly. It was meant to be awkward, an intentionally lame attempt to make Alcor smile. But Alcor’s eyes darkened, his gaze turning toward his hands, folded in his lap.
“Trebal has invited me to join the crew of the Aurora.”
Mizar felt cold. “No. No, you’re needed here!”
Alcor glanced up. “Captain Brieuse says I could be of great use to him,” he said stiffly. Then he lowered his voice, leaning forward. Mizar leaned closer to meet him, almost inexorably.
“There are a few things that Trebal told me in confidence. This mission—it could be of the gravest importance—“
A sudden flush, and Mizar felt heat replace coolness. “Then why are you asking me to share quarters with you? If you are just going to be leaving, why bother with a pointless, symbolic gesture that doesn’t change anything…”
“It’s not pointless.” Alcor watched him with wide eyes. “And I haven’t made up my mind yet. About going. I was hoping that you could convince me, one way or the other.”
Mizar’s fists clenched. “This isn’t fair!” he spat.
“No, it’s not.” Alcor’s gaze had returned to his lap, to the hands twisting there. “I am so scared, Mizar. We’ve lived our whole lives in the shadow of this war. I just want it to be over.” He looked up. “I want to make it end.”
He was exhausted, Mizar realized, all the energy and mirth he had displayed in the hallway drained from him like— He looked much older than his seventeen years. They both did.
Mizar sucked in a breath, then knelt down beside him. “There are other ways,” he said. “You’ve seen the schematics I’ve been working on, for the jumper improvements—“
“Gateships,” Alcor said. As habitual as breathing, “They’re called gateships.”
“Mine are puddlejumpers.” Mizar’s smile was almost genuine. “And with the work you and Janus are doing, maybe soon…”
“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to work with Janus,” Alcor said, willfully biting back a sigh. “Even if I don’t go on the Aurora, Moros has asked me to transfer my focus to Project Arcturus…”
Mizar managed another grin. He also put a hand on Alcor’s knee, and that came much easier. “You’re going to build me a superweapon, Alcor?”
Alcor rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips was quirking up. “Maybe.”
“You always make the best toys.” Mizar’s hand slid along Alcor’s thigh. “See? You should stay.”
Alcor covered Mizar’s hand with his own, forcing his gaze upward. They regarded each other. Mizar looked at Alcor: his best friend, his childhood partner-in-crime, his adult lover. He thought about that moment when the transporter doors slid closed and they existed together in nothingness. He thought it really wouldn’t be so bad, to remain that way forever.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said. “I promise.”
Alcor’s face broke out into a wide, relieved grin.
“But you have to promise me, too,” Mizar said, with a sudden intensity that surprised even him. He took a breath, then pulled himself up until he was straddling Alcor’s legs, cupping his cheek. “That no matter what happens, you’ll find a way. We’ll find a way. Do you understand me? We’ll find a way to—“
“Yes,” Alcor said. Kissing him, “Yes, yes. I promise, Mizar.” They held each other up for a long moment before collapsing back onto the bed. “I promise.”
Then they lay together in their bright white room, and forgot about the world and the war for a little while.
John woke with his body curled in on itself, tight up against the far side of the bed. He got up and stretched, showered, dressed. He strapped on his gear with mechanical precision, though his mind felt distant, elsewhere. He shook his head to clear it, then went out into the hallway.
In the corridor he fell into step beside Rodney. “McKay.”
“Colonel.”
John flexed his fingers. “I hope you’re not too busy,” he said after a moment, and with the ease of great practice, rode right over Rodney’s protests explaining exactly how busy he was. “Because I don’t know about you, but today feels like the perfect day to go exploring.”
They stepped into the transporter. John tapped the map, then turned. The last thing he saw before the doors slid shut was Rodney’s face as it lit up, excitement and joy as familiar to him as breathing.
NOTES:
1. Summary from Wikipedia, “Binary Stars.”
2. And yes, I think this is part of a larger thing, but I don’t have the attention span at the moment to do it in anything other than little bits. I hope that’s all right.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-24 09:33 pm (UTC)Yes. Young Ancients are interesting *because* they feel implausible :)
*goes off AT LAST to post