Nora Sergeant (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cortisone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2013-11-09 06:12 pm
cortisone) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-11-09 06:12 pm
Entry tags:
As a moon waned to crescent
CHARACTERS: Nora Sergeant & Josh Levison
LOCATION: His room.
WARNINGS: More fluff than a cotton candy convention.
SUMMARY: Married people are gross, and also space 101.
There aren't any words for the situation she's found herself in. On a spaceship, in an alternate reality- The stuff that Josh's little sci-fi dreams were made of, something she'd have thought was some kind of strange, panic induced hallucination- but was unequivocally real. While she was used to making decisions with a certain pattern (run in head first, keep going, don't look back), even she thought this deserved a little more forethought, a little more planning. The problem was- she had no idea where to go from here. What she should start with. Volunteer in Medbay, maybe, for the sense of something familiar. And Josh-
There aren't any words for the things that have happened to them either. For the fact that he's been here when he was human, that the 'jump' caused him to move forward in time until he was stuck as the wolf, the way she'd left him at home. There aren't any ways to convey the disbelief that an enchanted hoodie, worn out and completely unremarkable in every way, a slowly fading dark red- is the only thing keeping him human, keeping him with her. It's almost enough to wind her with the force of it, the knowledge of just how close she came to losing him, how close she came to doing this without him.
She might still have lost him anyway. Or pieces of him, at least. His room, the sweater- They smell like Josh, but stale. Like he really hasn't been there for long enough for it to truly linger any more. The way his face creases, just around the eyes when he sleeps, not even restful with her- This place, whether they want to think about it now or not, has taken a toll on him. One she's not sure she can reach.
It's why, instead of rolling out of bed and going in search of coffee, of bagels with cream cheese, or whatever passes for a quick and lazy breakfast in space, of going to the medbay and finding out what's needed- She stays right where she is, beneath the blankets. Revels in the warm, heavy weight of his hand on her hip, the way his breathe tickles across her cheek, and let's her eyes roam over his face, taking in every feature until she's sure she could memorize it, recreate it in her minds eye if she had to.
She reaches up and smooths out the creases with the tip of a finger gently, and when it prompts him to finally stir awake, dark brown eyes blinking blearily open before focusing in on her face, she smooths the finger down his cheek and smiles. Completely unrepentant for her creepy, stalker-ish behaviour, her voice is thick with the last hold of sleep and fonder than she wants it to be. It's a whisper, private, even if they're alone. And isn't that a novelty? For once, they're completely alone.
"Hey, doe eyes."
LOCATION: His room.
WARNINGS: More fluff than a cotton candy convention.
SUMMARY: Married people are gross, and also space 101.
There aren't any words for the situation she's found herself in. On a spaceship, in an alternate reality- The stuff that Josh's little sci-fi dreams were made of, something she'd have thought was some kind of strange, panic induced hallucination- but was unequivocally real. While she was used to making decisions with a certain pattern (run in head first, keep going, don't look back), even she thought this deserved a little more forethought, a little more planning. The problem was- she had no idea where to go from here. What she should start with. Volunteer in Medbay, maybe, for the sense of something familiar. And Josh-
There aren't any words for the things that have happened to them either. For the fact that he's been here when he was human, that the 'jump' caused him to move forward in time until he was stuck as the wolf, the way she'd left him at home. There aren't any ways to convey the disbelief that an enchanted hoodie, worn out and completely unremarkable in every way, a slowly fading dark red- is the only thing keeping him human, keeping him with her. It's almost enough to wind her with the force of it, the knowledge of just how close she came to losing him, how close she came to doing this without him.
She might still have lost him anyway. Or pieces of him, at least. His room, the sweater- They smell like Josh, but stale. Like he really hasn't been there for long enough for it to truly linger any more. The way his face creases, just around the eyes when he sleeps, not even restful with her- This place, whether they want to think about it now or not, has taken a toll on him. One she's not sure she can reach.
It's why, instead of rolling out of bed and going in search of coffee, of bagels with cream cheese, or whatever passes for a quick and lazy breakfast in space, of going to the medbay and finding out what's needed- She stays right where she is, beneath the blankets. Revels in the warm, heavy weight of his hand on her hip, the way his breathe tickles across her cheek, and let's her eyes roam over his face, taking in every feature until she's sure she could memorize it, recreate it in her minds eye if she had to.
She reaches up and smooths out the creases with the tip of a finger gently, and when it prompts him to finally stir awake, dark brown eyes blinking blearily open before focusing in on her face, she smooths the finger down his cheek and smiles. Completely unrepentant for her creepy, stalker-ish behaviour, her voice is thick with the last hold of sleep and fonder than she wants it to be. It's a whisper, private, even if they're alone. And isn't that a novelty? For once, they're completely alone.
"Hey, doe eyes."
i'm genuinely disgusted rn we should've rped the sex instead
Josh doesn't even bother keeping on with the topic. He's got his confirmation and there's nothing they can do about it here, anyway; this stupid hoodie is as good as it gets. Instead he opts for running his hand back through her hair gently before repeating the gesture, and it's just as much an excuse to take in the fact that she's solid as it's meant to comfort.
"Hey, we've got bigger fish to fry." Which is a really dumb thing to say, he's aware. He offers a slight smile, somewhere between smug and clearly self-deprecating in the face of his own crappy jokes. "Space, right? Bet you're glad you married a nerd now."
It's that usual combination of completely self-assured and self-aware bad jokes; it doesn't really fit the tone of the conversation, but that's the point. She's here. He can focus on that now and worry about the rest later.
it's not too late! pants off, let's go
She can do this. She can put aside the heavy questions, like she'd originally wanted to, can let them rest even though now that they're out there, she wants to tackle them all at once. Starting slow is good. They're together, properly together and they can start with the easy, can build up to all the things she needs to know. If she can't leave- Well, she's going to make sure they have all the time in the world for the rest of it.
Nora slides in closer, hooks her knee over his thigh beneath the blankets and lets her grip on his wrist ease, follows down the line of his arm to his elbow, brushes past it up to his shoulder and settles there. Makes sure they're connected at every possible point. "If I had known I'd end up in space, I would have held out for an engineer. I'm not sure your knowledge of inter-galactic warfare is going to help if this tin can stops having a life support system."
She's smiling, genuinely- and look at that knowledge by proxy. Spaceships have life support systems she's got this in the bag, and leans forward to press her mouth to his, brief and as full of affection as she can make it. Space or not, terrible future waiting for them at home or not, she is glad she married the man before her. Nothing could possibly change that.