Behind Closed Doors

By Miriel

Written For: Katrin, who wanted Lorne/Novak & Geekiness (Part of the SGA Secondary Characters Ficathon).

Things started innocently enough. The Daedalus was docked, and for once there was no major crisis at hand, so they’d been having a relaxed dinner in the mess ("they" being Lorne, Novak, Brown, and Lieutenant Kingston). When Lorne stood to leave, he turned to Novak, who was sitting beside him. "Listen, I forgot, you want to come by my quarters to pick up that thing?"

She frowned, puzzlement clear. "That thing?"

Lorne cleared his throat meaningfully. "You know, that thing. You know which one."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, that thing. Sure, now’s fine." With a nod, the two headed out the door of the mess, stopping only to drop off their trays.

* * *
“So, was it as good as you remembered?” Lindsey settled into his desk chair with an alarming familiarity.

He grinned in reply, and flopped down onto the bed a few feet away. “Better. I haven’t read the Lensman since I was a kid. Would you believe I named my first ten-speed The Dauntless?”

She giggled, propping her head on one hand as she shifted to watch him more comfortably. “Yeah, that I can believe. I always liked Clarissa, myself.”

He snickered. “Can’t imagine why. Were you, by any chance, a red-headed spitfire as a child?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’ll have you know, I was very mature for my age. Typical engineer’s daughter. Unfortunately, I never grew out of the beanpole phase, so Clarissa I am not.”

“Nah. I don’t think anyone would ever call you typical, Lindsey.” He shifted to peer up at her. “Not to put a damper on discussions of your figure, but you got Children of the Lens with you this run, or am I going to have to make do with more Retief?"

She straightened up, suddenly all business. "You first. It’s still intact, right?”

Lorne resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course it’s intact. We’ve had this discussion before. I do know how to take basic precautions with old books. It's the cost of reading the classics in their natural state.”

She smirked. “Twelve weeks ago.”

Lorne winced, and turned away to dig in the box next to his bed. “You remember the part where that was not my fault?” Silence was his answer. “Right?” He pulled out the object he had been searching for, triumphant, and passed it over.

Lindsey accepted the book carefully, and inspected the binding of the aging paperback before pulling a PDA out of one of her coverall's pockets and making notations. “Second-Stage Lensmen, good condition. So noted.” She slipped the book into a different pocket. "You know your only problem with Retief is that you don't properly appreciate the classics.”

“I appreciate the classics just fine.” He sat up on the bed, swinging his feet over the side. “You’re the one who’s been refusing to provide me with the Stainless Steel Rat. I refuse to believe it’s that much harder to get your hands on.”

She sniffed. “Are you saying you don’t appreciate my efforts? My discretion? Because if that’s the case...”

Lorne was on his feet before she could finish her sentence. “No, no. I appreciate you. I appreciate you immensely. You know what would happen if word got out to the marines about my... preferences. I’m supposed to be the sobering influence on Sheppard, not encouraging his geeky tendencies.”

She nodded. “I’m glad we understand each other. I’ll meet you in SR-6, tomorrow afternoon at 2000; you’re off shift then, right?”

He nodded. “Not a problem. Usual price?”

“Usual price. Don’t be late; I have to start prepping for Thursday’s launch with Hermiod at 2400.” She rose, and shook his hand with a smile. “Pleasure doing business with you, Major.”

* * *
The storage room was darker than he was used to; one of the bulbs had blown that afternoon and storage rooms weren’t exactly at the top of the maintenance queue. Lindsey arrived a few minutes after he did, out of breath. “Sorry.” She bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “Wiring problem. One of the junior techs mis-wired a console and bam!! instant Fourth of July.” She stood and moved to lean against the wall. “I would have called if it had run any longer.”

He shrugged. “No problem. I assume you brought it?”

She nodded, and began systematically patting down the pockets of her coverall. “It’s not exactly what you asked for, but I didn’t think you’d complain. A-ha!” Triumphant, she pulled the object in question out of a pocket he didn’t remember standard coveralls having. It was in a plastic slipcover, so he couldn’t make out the title.

“Well?” She pulled the plastic taut so that the writing on the book was visible. He blinked, then read the title aloud to ensure that he wasn’t hallucinating. “The Stainless Steel Rat’s Revenge?? Where did you?” He paused, frowning. “Wait a minute! You said that you refused to transport such ‘adolescent adventure garbage’!!” He reached for the book, but she pulled it out of reach.

“Uh-uh. Payment first. This is a first edition,” she gave him a moment for that to sink in, “so it’s a bit pricier than normal. Second-Stage Lensmen only covers half the price. The rest will be accepted in the standard currencies - chocolate, Athosian Brandy, or Kameni Ale.”

He reached onto the shelf he had been leaning against and pulled off a bottle, passing it over. “Athosian Brandy, the good stuff.”

She studied the label, then set it down on the floor. “Anything else over there? Because one bottle of brandy isn’t going to cover a first printing paperback. Now, if you’ve got a second hidden away over there, that might clear your tab.”

“You said usual price, yesterday; this is the usual price.” He frowned, and reached for the book again, missing as she stepped away.

“I was mistaken. This is a first edition; if you’ve got somewhere else to acquire these, feel free. But my price stands. Two bottles, or sixteen ounces.” She crossed her arms, and he could tell by the stubborn expression on her face that she wasn’t budging. He wondered how much trouble it had been to come by.

“All right, fine. But I don’t have it on me. You know I’m good for it; I’ll bring it by your place after night-shift.”

She shook her head. “Rules are rules; no product until you’ve paid in full.”

He grabbed for the book; this was ridiculous. He missed, as she held the book off to the side. “Come on, Lindsey. You knew I’d be short.” He lunged, and they fell to the ground; he barely had time to shift so as to cushion her fall (certain elements of chivalry weren't dead, even when they applied to red-headed spitfires, and regardless - she was holding the book), and it hurt like a bitch. Nonetheless, as soon as they were down he was reaching for the book again. She was holding it above her head and grinning smugly.

“Nope, it’s mine until you pay up, Major. Aack!” She squawked as he bucked up and reversed their positions. She managed to slither around to lie on her stomach, book clutched underneath her. He attempted to get an arm, a hand, something under her to get a grip on her, but only succeeded in causing her to break down into giggles; the thought came to him unbidden that she would have made a hell of a high-school wrestler. He paused, and thought about his options, listening to her breathless laughter. That, in and of itself, proved to be the solution.

“You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?” There was no answer, but then he hadn’t really expected one. After another few minutes of careful poking, prodding, and attempting to physically haul her body across the room, he managed to shift her enough that he could get the book out of her hand. He was just about to sit back, battle won, when someone behind him cleared their throat. He and Lindsey froze, and he cautiously turned to see their intruder. It was Colonel Sheppard, who looked more amused than anything else.

Lorne’s first instinct was to stand, but if he did so he’d have to let go of his hard won prize. After a moment, however, duty prevailed and he carefully extricated himself from a now-blushing Lindsey. “Colonel?”

Sheppard slid his hands into his pockets and rocked onto the balls of his feet, expression thoughtful. “So... I guess the rumor mill was right for once...?”

Lorne fought the urge to blush. "Sir, I can explain."

Sheppard shook his head. "I don't want to know."

“Sir-“

“I mean it, Major. I really don’t want to know. Now, I'm just going to go and check if there are any thermal blankets in SR-16. When I come back, I expect to find this room empty. Is that clear?"

Lorne swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

Sheppard’s expression eased into a friendly grin. “Don’t worry, Lorne. I won’t be telling tales out of school. But I don’t want to see this again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Sheppard waved his hand vaguely toward Lindsey where she was now sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Doctor. Major. As you, um, were.” He was out the door before Lorne could think of a response.

Lorne turned to Lindsey, to apologize and offer her a hand getting to her feet, but her headset went off before he could do so. She was on her feet and out the door in moments, muttering something about an accident in one of the labs. As the door closed behind her, Lorne realized that she’d left her bottle of Athosian Brandy behind.

* * *
Lorne didn’t get off-shift that evening until 0200 (which was technically the next morning). It took an additional half hour to stop by his quarters, ditch the tac vest and P-90 from night patrol, and pick up the previously abandoned bottle of brandy and its new companion, a bottle of Athosian fruit wine that he knew Lindsey had a taste for. Lindsey stuck to Daedalus time while she was in the city for short periods, so he felt reasonably confident knocking on her door at 0230.

She answered a moment later in casual clothing, a soft-looking sweater and loose cotton pants, and he realized that he’d never seen her out of uniform before. She cleared her throat, and he realized he’d been staring. “Oh, um, you left the brandy behind this afternoon. I asked around, and Katie said you were fond of the dark Athosian fruit wine, so I brought a bottle of that, too.”

She smiled, and stepped away from the door. “Welcome to my humble abode, my dear Major. You can set the booze on the table while I grab my listing of accounts so we can get you squared away.” He did as asked, and then turned to take in the small room. All of the Daedalus members had been assigned semi-permanent rooms in Atlantis as a courtesy; they were smaller than the regular expedition quarters, but not too bad (all things considered). Lindsey had somehow managed to find the time to decorate hers; there were curtains hanging over the sole window and a braided rug in front of the bed. A bed which, now that he noticed, had a handmade quilt on it.

“How the hell did you manage to get that out here?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken the sentiment aloud until she smirked at him.

“One of the privileges of handling the transporters is being able to squeeze in an extra bit of cargo now and then, you know that.”

“Yeah, but still. I mean, it’s gorgeous, but I can’t believe you used the space for that instead of trade goods.”

She shrugged and took a seat on the quilt, stretching her sock clad feet out in front of her. “My mom made it, when I went off to college. I don’t have room for it in my bunk on the Daedalus, and the bed is the wrong size. Better here than in an apartment on Earth that I don’t use, you know? We're back there every so often, but I never seem to make it off-ship. I moved out when I was twenty, they're still alive and all, but we don't talk to get together or anything. This is one of the only pieces of my 'home' I still have.”

He moved to sit beside her, then thought better of it and settled on the rug next to the bed. “Yeah, I get that.” He shifted, and leaned his head back against the bedframe. “That’s why I love the books so much. When I was a kid, my dad used to read them aloud on Friday nights. He had the best voice...” He closed his eyes, a soft smile on his face.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lindsey reached over to what she had generously dubbed her bedside ‘table’ and picked up the book there. He could hear her moving about, and the sound of pages being turned, but didn’t realize what she was up to until she began to read.

“Diplomat-At-Arms. The cold white sun of Northroyal glared on pale dust and vivid colors in the narrow raucous street. Retief rode slowly-“

Lorne opened his eyes and groaned, cranning his neck to look up at her. “Retief? Haven’t we had this discussion?”

She closed the book and thwapped him on the head. “Yes, and now we’re having a different one. This was the first Retief ever written, and I think you’ll like it if you give it a chance. So shut up and listen, or leave.”

He grumbled, but didn’t get up. Getting up would mean moving, which required more effort than he was sure he wanted to expend at the moment. Resigned to his fate of death-by-60's-science fiction, he closed his eyes and relaxed as she began to read.

* * *
Lorne staggered out of Lindsey’s quarters an hour and change later, blinking heavily. While he would concede that the story had been better than he had thought it would be, her voice and the cadence of her reading had him nearly asleep by the time she had finished. Given the kind of day (week, month, year - was it January yet? His sister was going to kill him if he’d missed her birthday again) he’d been having, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked three steps down the hall and found Colonel Caldwell staring at him speculatively.

“A little late for a stroll, Major. Anything I should be concerned about?” There was something about Caldwell that always made Lorne want to stand up and salute. A lot. And it wasn’t the fact that he was a full-bird colonel; at least, that wasn’t the only reason.

“Um, no. Sir. Lindsey, I mean Doctor Novak, was just showing me something.” Lorne fought down the urge to wince; that had sounded far more believable in his head.

If Caldwell was skeptical, he didn’t let it show. “Well, Major, I suggest that if you plan to spend time off-duty with Doctor Novak that you not do it the night before we launch.”

“Sir, it wasn’t-“

“Good night, Major.” Caldwell nodded once, and vanished down the hallway. Lorne sighed in defeat, and debated the effort it would take to walk to his quarters vs. the effort it would take to throw himself off the closest pier. His quarters won.

* * *
The Daedalus didn’t leave on schedule, due in part to the spectacular antics of Colonel Sheppard’s team and their dire need for rescue (again). Thus, when dinner came around Lorne had no trouble finding Lindsey at a table along one of the walls. He slid into the seat across from her and dropped a Hershey Special Dark onto the table between them. Her eyes lit up, and she looked up at him curiously.

“Consider it a down payment.” She nodded, and reached into her coverall pocket to retrieve the ever-present listing of accounts. She noted the addition, then paused what she was doing as she noticed that he was smirking at her.

“What?”

“You do realize that everyone thinks we’re dating, right?”

She smiled sweetly. “Does this mean you have to buy me dinner?”

He laughed. “Where?”

She made a face at the obvious answer to the question. “Point. Hey, does that mean I can keep the chocolate as a courting gift?” She laid a possessive hand over the candy bar, the equivalent of a week’s worth of coffee rations on the black market.

His hand covered hers with surprising speed. “Don’t. Even. Think about it.”

The sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat caused them both to turn, and Lindsey blushed spectacularly when she realized that Doctor McKay was standing there and pointedly not-staring at their ‘joined’ hands. “I realize that this may be a bad time, but some of us need the wiring schematics for the chair room before the next crisis, Doctor Novak.”

Lorne pulled his hand away, and she slid the chocolate under her tray before bending over to retrieve her laptop and begin what he assumed was a data transfer. He sat there, staring at his dinner tray like it was about to sprout wings (which, given the strange nature of some of the ingredients in the ‘tuna’ casserole, might well be a possibility) until he heard McKay mutter something about lovesick fools and stomp off. He looked up and found her peeling the wrapping off of the valuable candy. At his scandalized look, she raised her eyebrows. “What?” She broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Chocolate is meant to be eaten.”

“You weren’t serious about that whole courtship gifts thing, were you? Because that wasn’t easy to come by.”

She smiled innocently, and then closed her eyes and gave an exaggerated breathy moan. When her eyes reopened, she broke off a small piece and passed it across the table. “Just don’t think this means I’m cutting you a deal on paperback pricing.”

~ Finis ~

Works referenced:

The Lensman Series refers to a 6 book collection written by E.E. Smith, considered by many to be one of the earlier classic ‘space operas’.

The Retief story referenced in this work is Diplomat-At-Arms, and was the first Retief story ever written by Keith Laumer. For a basic overview, Wikipedia is as good as any.

The Stainless Steel Rat’s Revenge is the second in the Stainless Steel Rat series by Harry Harrison.

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