Fic: Pandora's Box: Find Peace Tonight (2/8)

[gelbes_gilatier]

Title: Pandora's Box: Find Peace Tonight (2/8)
Fandom: Stargate
Rating: T
Genres: drama, romance, smut
Summary: Apocafic/AU - Evan Lorne and Laura Cadman might not have won the war... but maybe at least a battle?
A/N: And here we are, after I didn't publish anything for this little series of one-shots for a while. Please note, though, that from this one on, I agreed with mackenziesmomma to post all the Pandora's Box stories unbetaed. I hope it's still okay for you and I hope you still enjoy reading them :)

( Shards Instead of Glass )

 

Pandora’s Box: Find Peace Tonight 

“Ohne Dich schlaf ich heut Nacht nicht ein,
Ohne Dich fahr ich heut Nacht nicht heim,
Ohne Dich komm ich heut nicht zur Ruh
Das, was ich will, bist Du.”

Münchner Freiheit, “Ohne Dich”

Well… that was close. There had been so many things that could have gone wrong that he still can’t quite believe they’re here now. Laura could have timed the detonator wrong and it could have gone off too early or too late – he still can’t believe Dr. Undhati and she had been able to MacGyver a timed detonator out of their last digital wrist watch and what looked like a wire, a piece of scrap metal and bubble gum – or they could have miscalculated the number of I’kkai waiting for them or the I’kkai could have stationed a back-up team at the ‘Gate or the Replicators could have… but just for once… nothing went wrong.

Well, okay, apart from Jorgensen suffering from a few second grade burns because he’d been a little too close to the explosion and Undhati busting her ankle when they were stumbling through the forest to the ‘Gate and his knee receiving another blow… However, the most important thing is that they all made it through and that they made it – through several jumps to misdirect any pursuers – to one the few planets where no one asks questions or takes notice of the faded pieces of Atlantis uniforms in their attire.

A short laugh escapes him and he isn’t quite sure if it’s disbelieving or relieved. Laura had been right and he has no idea how she did it. They all made it through – Laura, him, Miko, Jorgensen, Dr. Cole, Dhati – even though the odds really hadn’t been in their favor. But then again… when were they ever these days? Questioning a successful extraction would be questioning their luck and he’s got a feeling he really shouldn’t do that if he doesn’t want to jinx it.

What he should do now is lie down on his bed in front of the fire, curl up and sleep for as long as his traumatized mind lets him. It’s even a real one for a change because Dhati who used to be an engineer in the Sanitary Department on Atlantis turned out to be a frighteningly good pickpocket a while ago – additionally to being uncannily well versed with everything having to do with explosives – and this planet is full of people with their pockets full of money.

But someone needs to do the thinking, planning ahead of today… there was a reason why the team unanimously voted for giving him the single room and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t because he snores. And he wishes he could concentrate on doing some actual planning but when the adrenalin had finally dissipated a while ago, he had felt the strain of the day catching up with him. Body aching all over, knee swollen almost stiff again, a weariness that seems to seep through every crevice in his mind…

“What, still not in bed, Major?” God, how does she do that? And why does he let her sneak up on him so often?

He looks up to see her standing in his door frame, arms crossed, a mildly amused look on her face that not even the strange shadows that the flickering fire and the scar throw over her face can hide. “I could ask you the same, Lieutenant.”

Now she rolls her eyes. “I thought we agreed that it should be Captain by now?”

That makes him snort and he can’t help saying, a little grumbling, “No, you agreed on that. With yourself.”

Instead of giving him something back, she walks in and closes the door. Then she… walks over to him and sits down beside him on the bed. Suddenly… he becomes very aware of her presence and he realizes that deep down… he’d been waiting for her, ever since he’d gotten settled down here. Well, waiting for her… but not really being sure what he should expect. Somehow, after the adrenalin rush had passed… somewhere deep inside of him doubts about that kiss from before the extraction had started to churn. Maybe she’d just done it to convince him and didn’t really mean it or maybe she had…

Oh. What’s… what’s that look in her eyes? Like… she wants to do something but doesn’t really… and suddenly, her lips are on his again, though not as hard as the last time she surprised him. In fact it… it’s kind of hesitating… questioning. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s any less enticing. After a second of surprise, he answers her question… tries to reassure her that it’s okay and that he actually waited for her. The kiss lasts delightfully long but eventually she breaks it. He takes a deep breath. “Laura, I…”

“You did great today, Evan,” she softly interrupts him and he thinks he sees that look in her eyes again… the look of being afraid. Afraid of what, he wonders.

But because he’s not quite sure if he isn't too tired for talking about them, he chooses to talk about the mission. “I beg to differ. If I’d been great, Dhati wouldn’t…”

She rolls her eyes and interrupts him again, “Dhati’s fine, Evan. Doc patched her and the Swedish Chef up.” That makes him smile, like every time she calls Jorgensen by the rather unoriginal nickname – after all, he was a chef on Atlantis – they’d come up with a while ago, most of all because the man is Norwegian. She seems to have seen the smile and answers it and that… does strange things to his weary heart and mind. “They’ll live. We’ll all live. Thanks to you.”

Well… nah, that’s not fully correct. Credit where credit is due and all that. Also… he still feels like he has to stall because he still sees that strange look of being afraid in her eyes, even if it’s covered by warmth and mirth which makes him want to kiss her again… among other things. “Not only to me. You can be proud of yourself.”

She grins. “Thanks.” And then she takes a deep breath and the tensed look is back. “But I didn’t come here to hear you praise my C4 super powers. Well, not only.” Another brazen grin but not as openly as usual.

Okay, no more stalling. He’s too tired for any more talking and he’d rather sleep than see her nervous – because that’s how she looks now – in his vicinity because the last thing he wants is to lose the easy comradeship with her because of one moment of apparently misguided passion. “Then why did you come here?”

At first, she doesn’t answer but then she seems to brave herself and says quietly, “Because I’m worried about you, Evan.”

She… what? Why should she be worried about him? It’s not like she’d been worried about him ever bef… no… no, she had. She’d just never let him see it. Or thought she hadn't. Because he does recognize that look on her face now. He remembers that he’s seen it on a lot of occasions. Every time, for example, he’d taken a blow; only a flash of a look and then it had been gone. And he also knows a variation that’s longer and more thoughtful… from nights at campfires in caves or the flickering neon lights of old hide out bunkers, for example. He never liked seeing that look because it meant… it meant she was burdening herself with that worry and he feels guilty for that. He tries to give her a reassuring grin and says, “Look, I’m not…”

“And because I want to take care of you,” she interrupts him, again. Confused, he wants to ask her what she means by that but doesn’t get to do it because… she’s kissing him… again. This time it’s a mixture of… tentative? Apprehensive? He isn't quite sure about that part of the mixture but the other one is definitely… hungry. Whoa.

Responding eagerly, he cups the back of her head with one hand and pulls her close with the other arm. And deep inside of him… something stirs. The same something he’d been feeling for a while now whenever she smiled at him over a campfire or ended up behind a corner in the midst of a retreat with him, all flushed with excitement and adrenalin. A longing, profound and almost primal at times… to be with her, in every sense of the word and it makes him mutter, “That’s how you ‘take care’ of someone?” when breaking the kiss to move his attention from her lips to her throat and neck.

However… she practically throws a bucket of cold water over him because she stills and even moves away from him for a few inches. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… if you don’t want to…” What the…? He catches her eyes again and it finally dawns on him that the anxiety he’d seen there had meant that she was afraid of being rejected by him. Huh. And here he’d thought he knew her inside out by now but apparently… he doesn’t. Until now it never occurred to him that beneath all the bravado and the brazenness there’s a timid and anxious side to Laura Cadman.

Apparently, stealing kisses and being cheeky had been okay but as soon as he showed only the smallest sign of rejection – even if it hadn't been meant as such – all her bravery is gone. But why did she… right. Of course. She was… she is… serious about this. About him. The longing he’d felt flares up again, this time a lot stronger than before and he decides it’s time she stops being the only one to initiate kisses.

Not bothering with a verbal answer, he draws her towards him again and tells her with his lips what he can’t say with words; tries to tell her about the longing and the dread that always grips him when he hears her crying out with pain in combat and how happy it always makes him to see that she has made it through another battle and how proud he is of her… all that, he tries to tell her with just one kiss and is mortally afraid that he won’t manage to tell her at least half of it.

He can feel her surprise and for a moment he’s afraid that he read her completely wrong but then he feels her relax and finally return the kiss. Finally, he can take up where he was interrupted before and hungrily starts trailing kisses from her lips over her jaw right down to her neck. She makes little sounds that are half contentment, half begging him for more and he’s happy to oblige her. In turn, she almost tears at his clothes, filling him with arousal just by tugging and pressing with her fingers. Lord, and those fingers aren’t even on his skin yet.

Finding himself wanting to retaliate, he starts to do the same with her, being satisfied with hearing her breath audibly hitch when he manages to strip her jacket off and feels the surprisingly smooth, soft, warm skin of her bare shoulders under his rough calloused fingers. The feeling is so wonderful that it almost chokes him up. It speaks of all the things he thought he’d never see or do again: lazy evenings in the sun, happily wasting his time with painting, peaceful early Sunday mornings in bed, without another care in the world of what there might be for breakfast… peace.

Oh God, he wants to keep that feeling and he wants her to feel the same… wants those moments with her… wants them so badly and he draws her on the bed with him, letting his fingers wander over every bit of exposed skin he can feel and she answers in the same way and… “Jesus fucking… God… holy crap.”

Dammit, dammit, dammit. Just when he’d wanted to pull his right leg on the bed to encase her with both his legs, he’d felt a sharp pain shoot up from his knee, making his eyes water and his stomach roll with nausea because of the agony it just caused him. Holy… and dammit, now all the passion is gone from Laura’s face and she’s leaning over him, an expression of worry and confusion on her face. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think of your knee and I…”  He wants to tell her that it’s fine and that it’s really not her fault but she’s on a roll now. “I guess I should come back la…”

No. Fucking. Way. Despite the pain that’s still throbbing in his knee there’s something else throbbing and like hell he’ll let her go now. So before she can move too far away he reaches up and pulls her head down to him again, growling, “Suggestion denied, Lieutenant.”

For a moment, it works and she launches into the kiss with renewed vigor but it only lasts so long because after only a moment – or so it seems to him – she breaks the kiss and tries to be reasonable again. “No, look, you’re in pain and I…”

Now he’s the one rolling his eyes and he can’t help growling again because dammit, it’s a safe house and they have a room to themselves and he likes to tell himself that they all survived this thing for a reason and that reason was not that he gets to be treated like an invalid because of some minor irritation. He smirks. “Guess we have to be careful then. Think you can manage that?”

That… makes her smirk back and she has this brazen look again that the scar sometimes gives her and God does he want her right now. “Guess I can.”

At that she sets out to be ‘careful’. And careful she is… almost cruelly so. Slow and tender, she moves her body and touches him, not leaving out any spots on his body where he’d felt pain or weariness creep up on him just moments ago… as if she has a sixth sense for that kind of thing. She even makes him forget about the acute pain in his knee that usually takes much too long for his likening to ebb away into a dull background ache in mere moments because… because she gives him sensations that are far more pleasant and far more overpowering.

He wishes… he wishes he could reciprocate and give her what he should give her – cover her in kisses, make her see how beautiful she is, how much he admires her and everything that’s her, from bruises and scrapes and scars to stunning velvet brown eyes and a gorgeous wide grin and those incredibly long legs – but as it is, all he can do is try and keep her close to him, not let her get away, touch her wherever he can without having to get on top of her… and enjoy her touching him.

And boy, does he do that. She’s… Jesus, she’s almost torturing him, teasing him, pushing him forward… forward… what the… he groans. “I can’t believe you managed to find one of those.”

She grins before she puts the item she just pulled out of her trousers’ pockets to good use. “Never underestimate a Marine’s resourcefulness.” Crap, he certainly never will again. Somehow she even manages to use something as practical as protection to drive him insane with want and arousal. Want her… want her now… oh thank God she finally takes pity on him and takes him in and… all he can think is don’t let her go keep her with you make her stay make it last don’t let it end…

But it does end after what seems like an eternity and she lies down half on top of him. For another few delicious moments, she doesn’t even stir and he closes his eyes, tightens his embrace on her and takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent, feeling her skin against his, all over his body… and then she sighs a very deep sigh, like something deep inside of her settled finally down, was made right… just like he now feels, on the verge of falling asleep. And for the first time in over a year… things are like they’re supposed to be. Maybe, he thinks before finally drifting off, there’s still hope for them after all.

~*~

“Without you, I won’t fall asleep tonight
Without you I won’t go home tonight
Without you I won’t find peace tonight
You’re what I want.”

Münchner Freiheit, “Without You”

~*~

TBC in What You Call Hell.