Phrenitis (phrenitis) wrote,
Phrenitis
phrenitis

  • Mood:
  • Music:

To Write Down Everything That Went On

No idea why, but was rewatching "Rising" today - *hearts* - when this drabble idea came to me.




Title: Atlantis Sings
Rating: G
Category: Sheppard/Weir. General
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: No money. Period.

==

a.

It's good for morale, she tells them, green eyes bright with enthusiasm. It reminds him of too-early mornings: his wrinkled white shirt on her two sizes too big, her giggle unable to stay hidden in his pillow.

She needs this idea, needs for it to work, and he stands on her side of the room.

I'm with Dr. Weir, he states, as if anyone doubted otherwise.

There are no objections. Shuffles and muted conversation mark the end of the briefing and they walk to her office together though he has the upcoming mission to prepare for and she is never given the time for a break.

Living and working should be separate, she says to him seriously, somehow repeating his own words without realizing he was the one to say it to her to begin with.


b.

The music is set to a random shuffle, Robert Earl Keen on the bill following Nirvana, and the members of Atlantis take their complaints in silence.

From five 'til nine it's a reminder of sounds they know from a place they used to call home. Neil Young is waited through patiently, Creedence Clearwater Revival applauded when it's revealed someone thought to bring the band to this distant city.

Jazz is a surprisingly popular request.

She listens to their wishes, but makes no list, puts no artist ahead of another, and he's tried begging.


c.

Emmylou Harris songs they all agree on, the soulful melodies fitting in this new galaxy they've found.

It only takes them a couple of bars to recognize it now, and a few people will still look up, catch another's eye and smile.

Elizabeth sings softly, a cross between a hum and a harmony.

She has an incredible voice, they all say.

McKay figured out the wiring on accident. No one has told her, but she's patched into the system.


d.

See, she tells him when she's with him at night; nose against his as she lies contentedly atop him, the morale has improved.

He smiles, agrees with her, runs his fingers through the familiar curls in her hair as she continues.

They hum along to the music now, she says, have you heard?


-Fin.



Must go be productive. Clothes are dirty and Lost/Alias is on tonight. Whee!
Tags: fic
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