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Still taking prompts, but here are the first two last kisses fics:
John/Ronon
"You could come with me," John says. He runs his thumb over the silver eagles, feels the weight of Ronon's gaze on him. He doesn't mean could, he means should, but he can't say that. He doesn't really mean it anyway, he just wishes he did.
"The SGC would be thrilled to have you on a team," he adds. Under his cheek, Ronon's chest rises and falls, a calm, familiar motion. He's been with Ronon nearly as long as he was with Nancy; he's been with Ronon a hell of a lot longer. "Or the IOA – Bates is still with their field division, you know him."
Ronon holds John closer, doesn't say anything. John closes his eyes, the shape of Ronon's bare chest, the wooden charm that always hangs around his neck imprinted on his eyelids.
"You wouldn't have to stay with the SGC. They'd help you, create an identity for you on Earth, if that's what you wanted."
It's probably true, especially since Landry retired; John's team saved General Harrison's life the first time he came to visit Atlantis, and he seems to actually like them. He tries to imagine Ronon as a civilian on Earth. It's not as hard as it should be.
"We could come back here. Visit. It wouldn't be like –"
Ronon shushes him, very quietly, and John goes still. His throat hurts, and he can feel the sharp edges of the insignia cutting into his palm.
"This is my home," Ronon says, the same way he did when Atlantis was lying outside San Francisco, and no-one knew if they'd even ever leave. "My people died in this galaxy, I can't leave them."
John wants to say, 'I'm still here, can you leave me?' but he won't. Not when he's the one leaving. Not when he knows what Ronon means; Dr Ito, their latest civilian commander, would probably look the other way while John slipped through the gate and got lost in Pegasus, but John emails his brother every week, send birthday and Christmas presents to his nieces, engages in drawn out arguments with Mitchell over football and with Carter over the space program. He won't give up his ties to his home-world either, not even the ones that are dead and long buried.
"If there was any other way," he says instead.
"I know." Ronon's hand closes over John's, easing it open and rubbing at the marks on John's skin. "Me, too."
In his head, John chooses and discards a dozen things he could say: we can still keep in touch, this doesn't have to be the end, I'm still going to love you, someday. None of them mean anything, and he's always known this could happen.
He opens his eyes, lifts his head to look into Ronon's familiar brown eyes, the curls that have framed his face ever since he cut his hair at Torren's ceremony of personhood, when he was two. He doesn't try to imagine not seeing that face every day. He's going to be living it soon enough.
He shifts his weight, raises himself up on one arm, uses the other hand to cup Ronon's cheek. Kisses him, slow and careful, storing up the memory. It's the last one he's ever going to get.
Carolyn Lam/Vala
Carolyn startles when a white mug of coffee appears on her desk. "I don't know how you do that."
Vala hitches her hip on the corner of the desk and grins, swinging one combat boot-clad foot. Even in her tac-vest, she looks young and sweet. "A girl has to have some skills."
"Skills, I understand. Ability to sneak through my infirmary while wearing combat boots, I do not." Carolyn pulls the coffee mug closer with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other. She still can't get used to how much computer work being a doctor, especially a doctor with the SGC, involves.
"Good?"
"Perfect."
Vala swipes the mug and takes a sip, then makes a face. "Too much sugar."
"There's always too much sugar," Carolyn points out, reclaiming her mug. "I always take my coffee the same. You always get it the same for me."
Vala shrugs, her eyes bright. "I'm waiting to get used to the way you drink it."
Carolyn shakes her head. "You're heading out?"
"Soon as Cameron gets done with your father." Vala scrunches her nose up. "I think he might be in trouble."
"I'm sure he's fine," Carolyn says; she prefers to pretend that her father isn't her father, when it comes to work, but Vala hops cheerfully from side to side of that line. "Where are you going?"
"M3X 176," Vala says with relish. Carolyn raises an eyebrow, waiting for some sort of exciting story. Instead, Vala deflates slightly and admits, "First contact, no-one knows anything about the place. It'll probably be boring, and not have any treasure."
"Can't have everything you want."
"Oh, now, that's not true." Vala rests one hand on the desk by Carolyn's, and leans in to kiss her. It's barely more than a brush of her lips against Carolyn's, as much as they allow themselves at the SGC, even if they're not doing anything against the rules. "I'm pretty sure I have everything I want."
Carolyn flushes, looking down. "Go on, get out of here. Some of us have work to do."
Vala kisses her again, hopping off the edge of the desk. "Too much sugar," she calls over her shoulder. "I'm buying dinner tonight."
An hour after SG1 gate off-world, the gate alarm sounds. Carolyn ignores it, since it's not followed up by a call for medical. The infirmary is quiet, her handful of patients all sleeping. Maybe the quiet means she hears movement in the doorway behind her; maybe it's just her sixth sense tingling.
The last thing she sees is the unfamiliar weapon in an unfamiliar hand, and the flash as it goes off.
John/Ronon
"You could come with me," John says. He runs his thumb over the silver eagles, feels the weight of Ronon's gaze on him. He doesn't mean could, he means should, but he can't say that. He doesn't really mean it anyway, he just wishes he did.
"The SGC would be thrilled to have you on a team," he adds. Under his cheek, Ronon's chest rises and falls, a calm, familiar motion. He's been with Ronon nearly as long as he was with Nancy; he's been with Ronon a hell of a lot longer. "Or the IOA – Bates is still with their field division, you know him."
Ronon holds John closer, doesn't say anything. John closes his eyes, the shape of Ronon's bare chest, the wooden charm that always hangs around his neck imprinted on his eyelids.
"You wouldn't have to stay with the SGC. They'd help you, create an identity for you on Earth, if that's what you wanted."
It's probably true, especially since Landry retired; John's team saved General Harrison's life the first time he came to visit Atlantis, and he seems to actually like them. He tries to imagine Ronon as a civilian on Earth. It's not as hard as it should be.
"We could come back here. Visit. It wouldn't be like –"
Ronon shushes him, very quietly, and John goes still. His throat hurts, and he can feel the sharp edges of the insignia cutting into his palm.
"This is my home," Ronon says, the same way he did when Atlantis was lying outside San Francisco, and no-one knew if they'd even ever leave. "My people died in this galaxy, I can't leave them."
John wants to say, 'I'm still here, can you leave me?' but he won't. Not when he's the one leaving. Not when he knows what Ronon means; Dr Ito, their latest civilian commander, would probably look the other way while John slipped through the gate and got lost in Pegasus, but John emails his brother every week, send birthday and Christmas presents to his nieces, engages in drawn out arguments with Mitchell over football and with Carter over the space program. He won't give up his ties to his home-world either, not even the ones that are dead and long buried.
"If there was any other way," he says instead.
"I know." Ronon's hand closes over John's, easing it open and rubbing at the marks on John's skin. "Me, too."
In his head, John chooses and discards a dozen things he could say: we can still keep in touch, this doesn't have to be the end, I'm still going to love you, someday. None of them mean anything, and he's always known this could happen.
He opens his eyes, lifts his head to look into Ronon's familiar brown eyes, the curls that have framed his face ever since he cut his hair at Torren's ceremony of personhood, when he was two. He doesn't try to imagine not seeing that face every day. He's going to be living it soon enough.
He shifts his weight, raises himself up on one arm, uses the other hand to cup Ronon's cheek. Kisses him, slow and careful, storing up the memory. It's the last one he's ever going to get.
Carolyn Lam/Vala
Carolyn startles when a white mug of coffee appears on her desk. "I don't know how you do that."
Vala hitches her hip on the corner of the desk and grins, swinging one combat boot-clad foot. Even in her tac-vest, she looks young and sweet. "A girl has to have some skills."
"Skills, I understand. Ability to sneak through my infirmary while wearing combat boots, I do not." Carolyn pulls the coffee mug closer with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other. She still can't get used to how much computer work being a doctor, especially a doctor with the SGC, involves.
"Good?"
"Perfect."
Vala swipes the mug and takes a sip, then makes a face. "Too much sugar."
"There's always too much sugar," Carolyn points out, reclaiming her mug. "I always take my coffee the same. You always get it the same for me."
Vala shrugs, her eyes bright. "I'm waiting to get used to the way you drink it."
Carolyn shakes her head. "You're heading out?"
"Soon as Cameron gets done with your father." Vala scrunches her nose up. "I think he might be in trouble."
"I'm sure he's fine," Carolyn says; she prefers to pretend that her father isn't her father, when it comes to work, but Vala hops cheerfully from side to side of that line. "Where are you going?"
"M3X 176," Vala says with relish. Carolyn raises an eyebrow, waiting for some sort of exciting story. Instead, Vala deflates slightly and admits, "First contact, no-one knows anything about the place. It'll probably be boring, and not have any treasure."
"Can't have everything you want."
"Oh, now, that's not true." Vala rests one hand on the desk by Carolyn's, and leans in to kiss her. It's barely more than a brush of her lips against Carolyn's, as much as they allow themselves at the SGC, even if they're not doing anything against the rules. "I'm pretty sure I have everything I want."
Carolyn flushes, looking down. "Go on, get out of here. Some of us have work to do."
Vala kisses her again, hopping off the edge of the desk. "Too much sugar," she calls over her shoulder. "I'm buying dinner tonight."
An hour after SG1 gate off-world, the gate alarm sounds. Carolyn ignores it, since it's not followed up by a call for medical. The infirmary is quiet, her handful of patients all sleeping. Maybe the quiet means she hears movement in the doorway behind her; maybe it's just her sixth sense tingling.
The last thing she sees is the unfamiliar weapon in an unfamiliar hand, and the flash as it goes off.
Tags:
- fic,
- lam/vala,
- last kisses,
- meme,
- sg1,
- sga,
- sheppard/dex
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Will you link at
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I will link, assuming I can at both comms, as soon as I finish up - I've still got Lorne/Colby and Lorne/Sheppard to go.
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You're going to break my heart with Lorne/Colby as well, I just know it. (I'm looking forward to Lorne/Sheppard, but I'm less invested there, so I'm not quite so worried. Kill 'em off! I like a good death!fic.)
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Possibly, yeah. It's not going to be happy fic, I just can't decide which version of unhappy I'm going with.
Lorne/Sheppard, on the other hand, I have no idea what to do with - who knows, I might manage moderately happy. Or kill them both
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And then, POW, foothold situation. Carolyn must have been just one of many, but damn. :-(
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I put them altogether in one rec post, the three mini-stories, because, well even though I think the ending is very sudden and sad, they do go together.
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(She was just stunned in the last one. *nods firmly*)
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