#audiolettertober fic

[audioletter]

Day Twenty-Two: Fake Dating (McShep)

"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

Rodney is sitting up straight in bed, his hair crazy and John feels very confused for a moment. They'd been sleeping together for at least two months now, in secret of course, because if there was anything the Atlantis Crew loved it was gossip - but to say they'd had any conversation about what it meant would be a huge lie.

Since Rodney had broken up with Jennifer in a fit of confessions and "I'm sorry"s that lead to John and Rodney finally finding each other in the dark of the galaxy, John admits he didn't mind the secrecy, but knew that Rodney - well, Rodney was a proud man and wanted the world to know when he had "won" something. That made John a little uncomfortable, because he wasn't exactly a prize in his mind, and a little bit proud - but after almost six years he knew Rodney's thought processes almost as well as his own.

But this request? "What?" was all John could manage, untangling his legs from Rodney and sitting up to face him. "You need me to be your fake boyfriend?"

"Well," and Rodney stands, and the pacing begins in his boxer shorts and no shirt, "I'd told Jennifer I was in - well, love with someone else and it would look a bit suspicious if I went to the Return to Pegasus party tomorrow alone so I just thought that we could, y'know, pretend to be together for the night. Just the night, no-one will know the real story and we don't have to even touch, just be together -"

"Okay, okay, I get it," John said, putting a hand up to stop Rodney spiralling. "Fake boyfriends, seems a little redundant."

"Well we're not boyfriends, are we?"

The bluntness of the statement kind of hit John hard - he'd been in love with Rodney for almost as long as he'd known him, but the secrecy of their relationship seemed important to Rodney's self-preservation and Rodney was important to John so - "no, not boyfriends, but I can pretend for the evening."

Rodney's face lit up like a Christmas tree, a huge grin on his face. "Excellent! I'll pick you up at your quarters at 7pm Atlantis time and you don't have to overdo it on the affection just…I don't know, hand-holding? Is that what fake boyfriends do?"

"I don't know, Rodney," John drawled, rolling his eyes. "This is the first time I've fake dated the man I'm fucking in secret."

Rodney either didn't think his pithy response required one of his own or he'd zoned out, clicking his fingers in thought and muttering "yes, yes, this'll work."

"I'll see myself out," John sighed, getting up and putting his clothes back on to sneak back to his quarters before anyone saw him leave Rodney's quarters.

"7pm!"

John waved and rolled his eyes, triggering the door to open and leaving in a haze of confusion.

—

"Isn't he handsome?" and Rodney is laying it on thick, to Woolsey, Teyla, Ronon (both of which were in absolute shock at this sudden "boyfriend" situation) and, of course Jennifer, who they were currently talking to. "I mean, you're beautiful too, but I just couldn't hide my true feelings anymore. I'm sorry for all that -"

"Rodney." Jennifer put up her hand and smiled. "I'm happy for both of you, seriously."

"Thank you, Jennifer, that's very big of you," Rodney replied, smugly, putting his arm around John's waist in a huge gesture that seemed very over the top. Jennifer's face said it all - fuck me, help me - and John suddenly couldn't take the farce any longer.

He swiveled in Rodney's arms and, as obnoxiously as he could, he grabbed Rodney's face and kissed him hard, almost pornographically. It was almost catharsis after a night of being paraded around like a fake-for-hire boyfriend, and he disconnected from Rodney's lips with a large, sloppy smack. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

"You know," Jennifer laughed suddenly, "everyone knows you've been together for ages now."

"Yes, that's why we broke up! John's my man!" Rodney stammered, trying to recover from John's kiss.

"No, we know you're together-together," and Ronon and Teyla sauntered up behind Jennifer, amused looks on their faces. Ronon waved his beer at them. "It's pretty obvious and Teyla's quarters are right between the two of yours."

"Yes, we are aware of your relationship but very confused by the secrecy and the 'fake boyfriends' game of tonight," continued Teyla, her face a mask of concern suddenly. "Is this common for Earth people? Or just John and Rodney?"

"Everyone knows," Woolsey called out from behind them, over his shoulder, before returning to conversation with several Atlantis crew members who nodded in agreement.

"You - what? You all knew?"

More nods, and John stifles a laugh.

"Good luck, Rodney, you made the right choice," and Jennifer pats him on the back before leaving, not hiding her laughter.

"So am I still on fake boyfriend duty tonight, McKay?"

Rodney rolled his eyes and slumped. "Oh shut up, real boyfriend."

You couldn't have kept the smile off John's face as Teyla and Ronon cackled at Rodney's crestfallen then happy expression.

[audioletter]

Day Eleven: Bluff (for @spurious) John x Rodney (McShepish)

The lifesigns detector drew John closer to the cliff, obvious scuff marks from a fight drawing him closer and closer to the edge.

"No, he couldn't be -" John muttered, but the lifesigns detector had him almost squarely on top of what John assumed was Rodney. "McKay?"

"Sheppard - I'm - yeah help?"

The mission to MPX-331 had gone badly - the locals assuming they were Wraith-adjacent and they'd fought back, separating AR1 quickly. He knew Teyla and Ronon were safe back at the Jumper thanks to their radios, but Rodney had been dragged away by an elder and out of John's sight almost immediately.

And now, he saw as he crawled to the edge of the cliff, Rodney was hanging, sweating buckets, from a very, very steep cliff that lead into a very, very deep looking ocean. Shit.

"It's okay, McKay, I got you." John surveyed the situation and Rodney's hands gripping the luckily solid looking rock. "We gotta get you up off this cliff, hang on."

"It's -" a grunt, Rodney pulling himself up with obvious pain. "A bluff."

"What?"

"It's not a cliff, it's a bluff, if I drop I'll slide so that's not so bad, I guess but it's a steep slide so -"

John almost wanted to scream because, midst mortal peril, Rodney still found a way to play semantics. "Okay, I have to get you off this bluff, so grab my hand."

Rodney strained himself forward, and John could finally see his face, red from exersion. He reached for John's hand, the sweat from Rodney's hands making it hard to grasp but eventually, a tether.

"Can you get a foot hold on the cliff to pull yourself up with your legs?" John grunted, pulling.

"Bluff. A cliff is up and down, a bluff is rounded and -" Rodney coughed - "we're on the coast, which is -"

"Are you really lecturing me on rock formations while you're about to fucking fall to your doom, McKay?"

More grunts, and John felt relief as Rodney seemed to find a way to push himself up and give his other slippery hand to John. "It's just - it's a bluff and I'm -"

"Shut up, I'm going to pull you, push yourself up on the count of three, okay?" Rodney responded with a small cry of pain, John's heart beating a million miles an hour. "1…2…3!"

A mess of dirt blew up around them as John pulled and Rodney pushed, but with their mixed effort, eventually they were both safely on the ground, side by side, breathing heavily.

"Thanks," Rodney choked out. "I'd kiss you and say you're my hero but I…give me a minute." John reached over and patted Rodney on the leg in response, exhausted.

"John?" Teyla's voice crackled through his earpiece. "Where are you?"

"Rescuing Rodney from a cliff, but we're coming back now."

"A cl- nevermind, explain when you arrive. I'm glad you're both safe. See you soon," and the radio ceased. John's breathing began to regulate and he sat up, pulling Rodney with him.

"Bluff."

"What?

"It was a bluff, not a cliff."

"For fuck's sake, Rodney."

"I'm just saying!"

[audioletter]

Day Twenty-Nine: Formalwear (McShep for @spurious)

It was peak Woolsey to request everyone wear black tie formal for his birthday celebrations - the man did have a penchant for the finer things in life, after all, but John felt less like a human and more like a penguin in his tuxedo.

He pulled at the bow-tie, his hand playfully slapped away by a beautifully gowned Teyla. "Unsightly, John," she tsked, taking a small sip of champagne. "You can certainly deal with it for one night at Woolsey's behest, correct?"

John shuffled from foot to foot and groaned a little. "I'm just used to dress blues and haven't worn one of these -" he waved his hands down at his tux - "things since my wedding."

"It could be worse, you could be Ronon right now." They both turned to where Ronon was standing with Amelia, uncomfortably in his tux that had to be personally fitted by a tailor sent in from Colorado. "He looks very handsome, despite his reservations."

"Yeah well, he has that whole Ronon thing going on and…" the bluster went out of John suddenly. "Sure, if he can do it, so can I, and here's to Woolsey." He clinked glasses with Teyla, before looking around the room at the gorgeously clad Atlantis crew celebrating their boss.

"Everyone having fun?" Rodney's voice almost made John jump six feet in the air, coming up behind them and receiving a smile from Teyla in response. He stepped to stand between them and John - well, John tried not to Looney Tunes mouth-drop at how good Rodney looked in a tux.

"You - uh…you're late, where…penguin suits, hey?" John inwardly kicked himself, especially when Rodney fixed him with a quizzical look. "Oh, you wore one when -"

"I was on Earth with Jennifer, yeah," he finished, rolling his eyes and not looking at the direction of his ex-girlfriend who was dancing with Chuck at that very moment. "Still not my favourite form of clothing, but for Woolsey, right?"

"We were just saying!" Teyla beamed, and John sensed the tell-tale signs of Teyla-and-the-Champagne-Hitting-Hard. She could drink them under the table most days, but something about champagne affected her in such a way, it was almost cute. "I…think I'll go sit down with Miko for a bit, excuse me gentlemen." She departed with a wobbly bow, bizarrely, and Rodney chuckled.

"Champagne and Teyla," and John nodded, taking a swig and looking everywhere but at how distractingly good-looking Rodney was tonight. It was moments like these where John wanted nothing more than to drag him out on the balcony, tell Atlantis to open the lock to no-one but him and - well, that was a fantasy that was never going to happen.

"Attention, all!" Woolsey stepped up to the podium with his own glass, and John sighed, turning his attention to the birthday boy and away from the distraction of a human beside him.

—

Two hours later, and frankly, everyone was plastered, even usually stoic Ronon, who was currently making out with Amelia in a dark corner. John and Rodney, however, were simply tipsy; playing prime/not prime and rock, paper, scissors to kill time before Woolsey dismissed them for the evening.

"You know," Rodney said, nonchalantly as he presented scissors to John's rock, "you look really hot in that tuxedo."

John dropped his hand rock in shock, staring at Rodney like he'd said the most bizarre thing in the Pegasus Galaxy. Which, he basically had, and he cleared his throat. "Pardon?"

Rodney snerked. "You know you look good, Sheppard, don't deny it. I've only seen you in dress blues, and you look damn fine in those, but -" he shook his hand in preparation for another round of rock, paper, scissors (twice, because John was too shocked to follow suit) - "a tuxedo really - yeah."

"You uh…look really hot in your tux, too."

Silence fell between them, and a sudden electrical charge came through the air. "Yeah?" Rodney choked out, his cheeks going red. "I thought I looked fat and this seems to be choking me and it's so constricting -"

"You wanna get out of here?" John's desperation was fueled by lust, opportunity and champagne, but when Rodney's wide-eyed nod came back as a confirmation that something was finally going to happen between them, John wasn't going to let this pass him by for all the Johnny Cash bootlegs in the dual universes.

--

They made it to John's quarters - barely - before beginning a combative making out session; John knew Rodney was competitive but by the way he was kissing, it was like there was a race to be won that John didn't know about.

"Hey, Rodney, slow down - we've got time."

Rodney was still wide-eyed and shocked-faced, but he nodded, lips swollen from kissing. Kissing me, John thought, and he dived forward, pressing his mouth to Rodney's with less gusto but more meaning. "Can I…touch you?"

"Yes, please," and non-tipsy Rodney would have hated the whine he let out, but John didn't care, palming Rodney's cock through the smooth tuxedo material. Rodney was already semi-hard, John getting even harder at finally being tactile together, as Rodney began grinding into his hand. "More. John. More."

"Pants off?"

"No." Rodney's eyes were less wide now, and heavy with lust. "I want to do this with the tuxes on."

"A formalwear kink, whodda thunk," John smirked, undoing Rodney's fly and pulling down his pants and boxers past his ass. His cock sprung free, fully erect now, and John eagerly got down on his knees and looked up at Rodney expectantly. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah - Jesus, you look good down there."

John smiled, before taking Rodney into his mouth, short mouthfuls to begin with, teasing the head and licking the shaft as he learnt what Rodney liked. One thing he did learn very quickly - Rodney was vocal, his hums, groans and "yes"es almost certain to be heard out in the hall but frankly? At that point John didn't give two fucks.

"The bed," Rodney spluttered out as John released Rodney from his mouth. "I'm going to fuck your face if we don't lay down and - I don't - Jesus, John I never thought -"

It was almost like he'd said too much, the patented Rodney shutdown embarrassment face settling, and John got up, cupping Rodney's face in his hands and making him look him in the eye. "I want this if you want this," he muttered, kissing him almost chastely, and Rodney groaned against his mouth.

"I want this, just…I want it properly. Sharing, I don't know."

That could possibly be the hottest thing John's ever heard, from a man in a tuxedo no less, and he leads Rodney to the bed - smiling a little at the literal penguin shuffle he had to do to follow John there - and he laid down beside Rodney, stroking his face.

"Sharing is caring after all," and John took Rodney's mouth again, this time with an obvious meaning behind it.

[audioletter]

Day Two: Tattoos (one of two, because @spurious knows the hold this prompt would have on me) McShep

"Your wrist band."

"Hmmm?"

Rodney points at the black cotton encasing John's wrist with his fork, slighly exasperated. "Wrist band, y'know, the thing you never take off, not even when we…y'know."

"You can say 'make out', Rodney, you're forty years old." John swallows his food, puts his fork down and crosses his arms. "It's full of secrets, McKay."

It's worth it for the frustration and blustering that comes at John from across the table. "This - why - why can't you just -" and Rodney drops his voice to a whisper despite the overwhelming din of the mess, "- let me in a bit more?"

The question lies heavy under John's brow - mainly because he doesn't know the answer himself - and he bows his head slightly. "Rodney, I…"

"Nevermind. Nevermind! It's fine," and Rodney abruptly stands, picks up his tray and makes to leave. John panicks a bit; the fact a wrist band seemed to be standing between his need for self-preservation and the new, exciting life he was building with Rodney seemed stupid and mundane, but he can't find the words to explain this while being surrounded by clattering cutlery and conversations about what others missed on Earth.

"Can you…just come to my quarters, later, Rodney?"

Rodney hesitates, pulling his chin up. "Maybe," and he's gone, just like that.

—

The door opens at Rodney's whim and John jumps up from his bed. "You came."

Rodney holds his arms open indigantly. "I came, I'm here, what about it?"

"Here." John pushes his exposed wrist towards Rodney's face in a near frenzy, a need to be closer to this person he cared too much for - a person that made him crazy with want and the need to take all his known neuroses about being alone and not bottle them away. To share them, to bear them all heart and soul, and John almost feels scared.

"It's - a paper plane? Tattoo?" John drops his wrist, but Rodney catches it before it falls too far. "It's…why do you keep it a secret?When did you get it?"

"Eighteen. I wanted to fly, and the closest I got before the Air Force was making these with Dave on the back porch. And it's a not a secret per se, it's…a reminder, a -" he groans, running his free hand through his hair in frustration - "a piece of me. There, now you know."

Rodney follows him across the room to where John had left his black wrist band, pulling it from his hands before he put it back on. "No, no, I love it."

"What?"

"I - I love it. I can just see young you throwing paper planes and probably not knowing the aerodynamic theories behind them, of course, but -"

"Rodney."

Rodney straightened and cleared his throat in the way John had learnt was his way of apologising. "I just mean that you shouldn't hide it away. Because it's a part of you."

John almost keels over when he feels Rodney's lips on the thin lines of the inked paper plane - gentle, tentative and welcome - and the wrist band stays off for the rest of the evening.

[audioletter]

Day Nineteen: Shopping Trip (John, Rodney, Teyla & Ronon)

It's the small things that become annoyances when Atlantis is grounded in San Francisco. Getting a phone plan without explaining why they'd been "out of the country" for five years, a bank card because all of theirs were expired, and housing that wasn't attuned to their every move like Atlantis was.

Luckily, the government helped them with most things - Teyla and Ronon being given official IDs and passports with a strange amount of ease - and they're all shocked when they can finally check their bank accounts to see how much money had accumulated.

"Holy shit," John muttered, mirroring Rodney at the next ATM with a grin on his face. "Gathering interest isn't just a myth."

"Well, I suppose this is sufficient for the amount for the danger we were in and the work we did," was the curt response, but John can hear Rodney humming as he pulled out fresh hundred dollar notes from the machine and put them in his rarely-used wallet.

After talking Ronon and Teyla through the process of automated banking, John turned to the three of them, his hands on his hips. "Well, I suppose now we go shopping."

"Shopping?" Teyla's eyes lit up. "I suppose I do need some more Earth-like clothing."

John waved his hand, grinning. "I'll leave that for Sam to help you with, or Amelia and Jennifer - for today, we fill our houses with the bounty of Trader Joe's."

"Trader Joe's? Sounds like some outpost somewhere," Ronon said, sounding suspicious.

Rodney sighed. "It's a supermarket, which -" he paused and looked at the sky. "I suppose is kind of like a trading outpost, just more expensive and hideously American."

"I'm sorry we have to offend your Canadian senses being stuck in San Fran, but I missed Trader Joe's and Teyla and Ronon need to experience something a little higher end than Wal-Mart for their first grocery shopping experience."

Rodney shrugged and crossed his arms, a sure sign John had won; victoriously he lead them to the SUV the government had organised for them to use whilst on Earth and drove them to the nearest store.

The smell was overwhelming - like coming home, and John knows like most expats (were they expats?), food was the thing he missed the most. The lights, the sounds, the ambience, he turns to his group and opens his arms in glee. "Trader Joe's lady and gentlemen. Grab a cart, we're gonna need one."

"Cart?" Teyla looks confused, and Rodney sighs, taking a cart from the stack at the door opening and handing it to her. "Oh, you push it and put the food inside it, clever." She began pushing it, obviously enjoying it from the outset. "There's a seat for Torren, too!"

"Okay, what do you guys want to eat?" John asked, clapping his hands together.

"Meat."

"Vegetables and grains."

"Coffee."

Expected responses, and they began to navigate the aisles deftly, filling the cart with both functional and whimsical items ("Joe O's?" Ronon asked, holding up the box. "Are they made of Joes?" "It's cereal and you'll love it, put it in the cart.").

Eventually, the cart overflowing, they reached the end of the aisles and Teyla and Rodney both looked vaguely overextended. "This is a lot of food, Sheppard, do we need this much?"

Smiling and ignoring Rodney's sharp tone - the dude wasn't a "shopper", his words - "our houses are empty, and now we check out."

"Check out is where we purchase the items?" Teyla ventured. John nodded. "Much easier than trading. And we use the card Woolsey gave us to pay?"

"Pay way too much," Rodney grumbled, but helped John load the copious amounts of food onto the conveyer belt. "Next time we hit Wal-Mart or Target."

"Is there booze?" Ronon asks suddenly, and John pulls him back to the register.

"We'll get some on the way back to the apartments, get your cards ready."

Finally, the checkout girl finished ringing them up - annoyed they wanted to use four different payments, naturally - but eventually they found themselves in the bright light of day, the typical Trader Joe's eco bags a sign of success.

They head for the car, and Teyla speaks. "John?"

"Hmmm?"

"How do we cook this food?"

John began loading the bags into the back of the SUV and ignored Rodney's smothered chuckle. Earth was going to be a learning curve for all of them, but it was going to be worth it until they could reach the Pegasus Galaxy again.

[audioletter]

Day Twenty-Eight: Confession (Kokomi/Kaeya) (Two of Two) (EXTREME FLUFF WARNING and inspired in part by this post from @moraxsthrone)

Kaeya stepped out of the teleport, the letter summoning him to Watatsumi Island safely in his back pocket. He'd been doing this trip for months now - he and Kokomi hadn't yet labeled their relationship, but many a night in her quarters in the shrine, her private secret area and Kaeya's home in Mondstadt leant to exclusive.

Well, he knew he was treating it as exclusive, and a small well of panic pooled in his stomach. Surely that's not what this summons was about, was it? She was breaking up with him? He tentatively walked up the steps of the shrine, when she stepped out of the doors trailed by two Shrine Maidens behind her.

She was sunshine and light, everything bright in his life; her Divine Priestess robes sparkling in the daylight as she walked down to him, a shy smile on her face. Kokomi was always a little shy whenever they met, before giving away to the secret woman he had come to - well, love, and the anxiety in his stomach did a flip as she greeted him, her hands crossed in front of her.

"I got your note, General," he started, trying to fill the dead air in his brain with bravado. "It's a little cryptic, I must admit."

Kokomi opened her mouth, looked to her Shrine Maidens and closing it before gesturing them to leave, which they did with haste and a bow. "Let's go to my private quarters."

"Ooh cave time," he smiled, trying to posture, and she frowned, seeing right through him.

"Come on, please, I have something we need to speak on." She opened her glider, gesturing him to follow suit. They flew, hand in hand, down to the cave she kept so sacred, landing on the rock just outside and entering. The cave was, as always, a mess of papers and strategy books mixed with light novels and the tiny notebook she had admitted she used to track her moods and as a journal. How much did she write about me? he wondered, but her sudden pacing distracted him.

"Kokomi, if you want to break up -"

"I'm pregnant." And it hangs in the air, the anxiety in Kaeya's stomach growing into an ocean and he almost feels faint. "I'm having - we're having a baby."

So they were exclusive was, weirdly, the first thing that entered his mind before holy Archons, I'm going to be a father?

Kokomi twisted her hands together nervously, and began pacing again. "I - Kaeya, I don't expect you to be a part of this because we never discussed exactly what the status of our relationship was, and you live in Mondstadt with a rather important job and I simply cannot leave my people, as you can understand, but I will have this child and if you wish me well that's all I -"

Kaeya cut her rambling off by swooping across the room and grabbing her face in his hands. "I love you," he muttered, kissing her gently and purposefully. "I'm yours, if you - if you'll both - have me."

A smile broke out across Kokomi's lips, still pressed lightly against Kaeya's. "Of course," she whispered. "But it will be hard. I cannot teleport while in this state."

"Then I'll come here. And the Shrine Maidens will help! And Klee! Klee is going to be so excited, and Jean too - she always said despite everything I'd be a good dad and -" he trailed off, suddenly nervous again. "Do you think I'll be a good dad?"

She wrapped herself around him like an octopus, sighing. "I think you'll be an excellent father."

—

What followed was eight months of back and forth from Mondstadt to Watatsumi Island - the teleports sent his head spinning every time, but it was worth it to see her grow and glow more and more every time he saw her. He sometimes brought Klee - who promised not to let the baby learn about Jumpy Dumpties - who would press her head to Kokomi's stomach to hear and feel the baby before singing off-tune lullabies Kaeya assumes she learnt from Alice.

Nothing - nothing - prepared him for the big day, a summons coming direct in Mochizuki's hand via teleport to Mondstadt. "It's happening," she gasped, like she'd run to his quarters, and he quickly followed her back to the teleport to Watatsumi Island.

"You wait out here," Izumi Naki barked at him, rushing into Kokomi's quarters. He'd learnt from Mochizuki that it was customary for the Divine Priestess to give birth alone - and he almost collapsed into Diluc's arms when his brother appeared through the shrine's doors.

"I thought you might need some support," Diluc said formally, and Kaeya hugged him, completely against their normal routine, surprised when Diluc hugged him back. "You're going to be a father, which is completely unbelievable to me."

"Way to ruin the mood, Luc," Kaeya groaned, leaning out of the hug and returning to his pacing. "A father! My child -" he pointed to the quarters, almost sideswiping Miwa carrying towels as he did so - "Is being born in there."

Diluc sat down on a couch, directed so by Tsuyuko, who then also disappeared into Kokomi's quarters in a hurried state. "So, are you going to marry her?"

Kaeya snapped his head towards his brother. "What?!"

"You're doing this the opposite way around, I suppose, but I wouldn't expect any less of you."

Marriage - where would they live? Where would they - and his thoughts were interrupted by Tsuyuko sticking her head out of Kokomi's quarters, a soft smile on her face.

"Someone would like to meet you, Mr. Alberich," she said softly, gesturing to him. He almost broke into a run, barely feeling Diluc's pat on his shoulder, bursting into Kokomi's room where - oh.

She looked exhausted but beautiful, surrounded by her Shrine Maidens who all looked ecstatic. And in her arms, squirming and red, was the tiniest human Kaeya had seen since Klee was born.

"She's a girl," Kokomi smiled tiredly, but Kaeya knew how happy she was.

"A girl," and he reached the bedside, bending down on his knees so to better see both of his girls. "A girl." Kaeya kissed Kokomi softly, before tentatively kissing the baby on the forehead. "Nice to meet you, young lady, I'm your father."

His whole life changed in an instant - he didn't think he could love two human beings as much as he did right then, taking the small little girl when Kokomi offered her to him. "Careful with her head."

She was so small in his arms, her eyes closed and her body wriggling with the sense of being in Papa's arms. It wasn't a word he used often, but the baby was perfect, a perfect amalgamation of Kokomi and Kaeya (and, Kaeya noted, didn't seem to be anything but a human despite their shared pasts of lost civilisations).

"We should get married," Kaeya said at the same time Kokomi gently said "I think we should name her Gaia," and they both laughed.

"I say yes to both, if you say yes to both," and he climbed into the bed next to her, cradling baby Gaia in his arms and kissing Kokomi on the forehead.

"Yes," she whispered, and the Shrine Maidens all responded with small squeals of delight that made Kaeya and Kokomi both laugh.

"I love you," he whispered into Kokomi's hair, and he felt her smile, wriggling closer to him.

"I love you too," and Kaeya, finally, felt whole.

[audioletter]

Day Twenty-Five: Candles & Lanterns (John/Elizabeth-ish, for @sparktober)

The Iratus Bug had thrown him, a little - a lot; John found himself wandering the halls of Atlantis late that night after coming back from the dead, sometimes rubbing his neck and sometimes wondering where the hell he was going.

Looking for comfort, said the quiet voice in the back of his head, and he finds himself firmly in front of Elizabeth's quarters without even knowing why. She was a strong force but a calming one, his respect for her knowing no bounds, and that seemed to be exactly what he needed now.

The door swung open abruptly, Elizabeth standing there probably mirroring the vaguely shocked expression on John's face. She looked soft, her hair was curlier than usual - post shower, he guessed - her pyjamas serviceable yet comfortable. She looked beautiful, safe; he smiles at her a little, sheepishly.

"Major Sheppard, I was on my way to the mess to get some coffee - did you need something?"

And John falls into the room, into her arms in a completely unlike him way - taking her (and himself) by surprise, before she pulled him into the room. She shut the door behind him, wrapping her arms around him tight. "It's okay, Major - John. Here," she pulled them apart, and John felt himself shaking a little. "Let's go to the couch."

He'd never been in Elizabeth's quarters before, the lights off and the room speckled with candles and Japanese lanterns he knew were from her many travels. It created a warm, inviting atmosphere, one he felt encompassing him, and they sat together on the small couch, facing each other. He didn't know what to say, why he was even there, but she places her hand on his leg and gently breathes out.

"You gave us quite a shock with that bug, Major."

"Huh. Literally," and he instantly regrets the joke as she winces a little. They'd only been on Atlantis for a short time, but he already had grown close to the others and Elizabeth, his trust in them implict. "Sorry, too soon, I guess."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Humour is a coping mechanism I suppose," and she took a carafe of water and poured them both a glass before sitting back and taking him in with that patented Weir gaze. Like she was analysing, cataloging, assessing and evaluating in one fell swoop; to others it felt intrusive, but to John it was simply - Elizabeth.

"Gallows humour," his mouth quirked in a small smile, taking a sip of water. "I'm sorry for intruding like this, I just -"

"Didn't know where to go?"

John rimmed the edge of his glass with his finger. "Yeah. Yeah. I just…you're the boss lady and I almost died before we even got this mission off the ground and I felt like I failed the team."

A silence settled, the candles and lanterns shuddering on the walls in a hauntingly beautiful way. It was intimate, seeing how Elizabeth was behind closed doors, and gave him a better insight into who she was. A complicated yet simple person, intelligent who enjoyed the softer things in life, and it's exactly what John needs in this moment.

"You didn't let anyone down, John. It could have happened to anyone." She smiles a little. "Rodney was certainly worried."

John snirked. "He's checked on me about a hundred times with about seventy different reasons to do so."

"He cares."

"I barely know him."

"You barely know me, but you're here."

She leans forward, her face shadowed slightly by the low light, and kisses him on the cheek, leaning back and smiling in a yellow haze.

"What was that for?" John tries to mask his surprise and was glad for the candles because he's sure he's blushing.

"Just to remind you you're here," and she took another sip of water, looking towards the door. "You'll be fine, and you need your rest. I suggest going back to your quarters and sleeping. You need it."

John sighed, and nodded. "Thank you, Elizabeth." She waves him off, and he stands, walking to the door. "I appreciate it." The door senses his intent to leave and swishes open.

"You're welcome anytime, John. We need you, as much as maybe you need us."

It rings in his ears as he walks back to his quarters - because maybe he did need the Atlantis crew, and that was okay.

[audioletter]

Day Twelve: Hair Care Teyla/Elizabeth

The last mission wasn't a success, and Teyla was the obvious indicator of that. Her face covered in wounds, her arm in a sling and the other in so much pain it was hard for her even to brush her teeth.

She'd been bound and gagged, near-tortured before the rest of AR1 had found and rescued her. Dragging her back to the jumper as a group, Rodney tentatively tending to her with hovering hands and a worried face as John gunned the jumper back to Atlantis, Ronon hovering in a disconcerting but caring way. They were still treating her a little with kid gloves, something she hated; adding extra pudding to her mess plate, excusing her from missions (which she hated most of all) and not asking anything but "are you sure you're okay?"

She was okay, she thinks, just in pain. It wasn't a situation she hadn't been in before - the Wraith had known she was the leader of the Athosians, causing more wrought situations than she cared to remember. But for some reason, having her arm dislocated and helpless made her feel dislocated and helpless, and it's not until Elizabeth calls her into her office that she realises this.

"I'm just checking in with you," Elizabeth begins, walking around her desk to stand in front of Teyla.

"I promise you, I am fine."

"You're in pain, I can see it."

Teyla winced as a shock of agony shot up her arm to her shoulder. "Yes, I suppose I am. It…it is an inconvenience and I cannot do the most simple things." It's like Elizabeth has opened a flood gate - perhaps it was a woman-to-woman thing, as apposed to the boys she spent most of her time with - and she suddenly cannot stop. "I cannot even wash my hair, and that is most frustrating."

"Well - I can help? If you feel comfortable. It's the least I can do for your sacrifice on this mission."

That's how Teyla finds herself in her utilitarian bathroom - the Ancients didn't believe in luxury when it came to utilities it seemed - and both of them standing nervously.

"How - what is the best way to do this?"

Elizabeth swallowed, crossing her arms. "I suppose - we both get into the shower. If you're fine with -"

"Nudity?" Teyla smiled. "My people are not afraid of nudity like humans seem to be."

"Okay! Great, let's do this." Elizabeth moved forward and carefully removed Teyla's sling, a small spark radiating through Teyla's skin as she touched her. "Do you need help undressing?"

"No, no, thank you. But I can manage."

"Right." Elizabeth begins stripping, pulling her shirt over her head exposing a black, basic bra and quickly they are both naked. Teyla doesn't feel anything but a warmth in her stomach - she's always found Elizabeth attractive, but she turns her attention to the shower and turns the water on before they both step in.

"Should I turn my back to you?" Teyla asks, nervous. The water is warm, like Atlantis can feel their own body heat, and she feels Elizabeth press her breasts against her back.

"Yes. Here, wet your hair." As soon as Teyla's hair is wet enough, Elizabeth pumps the shampoo into her hands, in front of Teyla, pulling her hands back and suddenly Teyla feels her hands in her hair. Massaging, lathering - it feels like ecstacy, Elizabeth's body pressed against hers in a way Teyla is sure is deliberate.

"Does it feel good?" Elizabeth mutters into Teyla's ear, and goosebumps (a word she learnt from John recently) cover her body. "Just relax."

Teyla almost purrs when Elizabeth's hand slides down her neck, massaging her there for a moment, before her shampoo-covered hands continue down to her shoulders and eventually her torso. "Elizabeth," Teyla mutters. "This is -"

"Tell me to stop and I will," a mouth between Teyla's shoulder blades. "Duck your head, I'll wash out the shampoo."

Teyla does as she's told, Elizabeth then grabbing conditioner. She misses Elizabeth's hands on her waist, but the head massaging starts again and it's wonderful. "Yes," Teyla unvoluntarily hisses out, and she ducks her head to wash out the conditioner when told to.

"We're finished," Elizabeth mutters, her voice heavy with want. "Oh, we aren't," and Teyla turns, taking Elizabeth's face in her hands despite the pain and kisses her, the water flowing around them like a harmony.

[audioletter]

Day Nine: Bookmark Teyla Emmagan

Remember your heart -

The Athosian culture revered books. From personal histories to storytime reading for children, the words hand printed to page were as sacred as any God, and just as important.

From a young age, Teyla had learned fibre arts. It ran in her family; her mother, an accomplished embroiderer sought by their entire people to endorn clothing, furniture and everything in between. It made Teyla proud when people started to seek her hand for the same things, her love poured into each stitch and the blood from each prick of the needle a small price to pay to make her mother - and her people - proud.

Secretly, her favourite thing to make were bookmarks. Intricate, detailed bookmarks; each one tailored to the recipient from colour to design. She loved books, she loved fibre art, she loved her people, so it seemed as natural to her as breathing.

Things changed. Her people changed, shifted, were displaced, the Wraith now intwined into their books and art as they were a part of their history, after all. Teyla learned to fight, to become a warrior; she put down the needle for the Bantos sticks and a knife, and lead her people in the fight against the Wraith because their lives depended on it.

Then, Atlantis - she changed, she learned, she grew. Never once did she forget to protect her people, but she adapted to and adopted the ways of the Humans because she loved them. She loved all of them, even Michael, as complicated as that was for her, and she found home could be more than one place.

A quiet Saturday night, a successful mission run and Torren asleep beside her, and she pulls out her threads for the first time in years. The needle feels stiff in her hands at first, the Athosian cloth a little rough, but her battle-ravaged hands quickly find their way back to the days of when she was a little girl in the arms of her mother.

She gives John the bookmark the next day, when she finds him looking bored over a mission file - "for you," is all she says, and fights the urge to run because perhaps he won't understand.

A smile peeks at the sides of his lips. "You made this?"

"It's - yes. Athosian people are rather apt at fibre arts and I was taught from when I was very small."

The bookmark is a fraught mixture of threads, but to Teyla, it showcases their journey as she sees it, as she sees him. Blacks, golds, bronzes; all culminating in a shadow of a puddle jumper and his initial at the bottom. She feels shy, but sharing a piece of her culture with John feels right, and his expression is one of awe.

"Teyla - I'm…wow. This is going right in War and Peace," he smiles, and she touches his forehead in a sudden urge to show him again how much she respects and loves him.

"Enjoy it, John," she whispers, before excusing herself and walking back to her quarters, the feeling her mother was proud of her distinct and clear.

[audioletter]

Day Four: Cinnamon Caldwell/Elizabeth

Daedalus Docking Day (or DDD as the crew begins to refer to it, bar that one time a clueless scientist suggested they call it "D-Day", which was answered with a chorus of "no!"s) was almost like Christmas. Small pieces of home, delivered in Military storage boxes, passed out by the Daedalus crew like Santas in boiler suits.

John got his latest copy of Golf Digest and a six-pack of Bud he planned to share with the others later on the pier; Rodney a collection of obscure coffee roasts and the Astrophysics Journal - accompanied by mutterings about he "could have written that better" and "what the hell kind of sense does that make?"; Zelenka with a selection of Czech language classics causing him to praise the heavens in his native tongue.

The small things, but Elizabeth never asks for anything except for the person who appears in her room once his crew is settled.

"You took your time, Colonel," she mutters as he crosses the room to take her in his arms, Caldwell's boiler suit rough on her bare arms but it feels like coming home after a long off-world mission.

"Well," he says, kissing her forehead, "the orders for Earth goods are getting bigger and -"

"Just kiss me, I get it," she laughs, standing on tip-toes to meet him ducking his head to connect their lips. This is all she wants from Earth, Caldwell's broad frame wrapped around his and -

"Why do you taste like cinnamon?"

"What?"

"And frosting?" Elizabeth leans back and narrows her eyes. "You taste like a Cinnabon roll, Steven. Are you holding out on me?"

Caldwell smirks, moving his arms from around her waist to her arms, then he moves away entirely to cross his arms. "Ah, so Ms. I-Don't-Need-Anything-From-Earth wants Cinnabon of all things?"

"I mean -" Elizabeth misses his body heat, but the taste of cinnamon and frosting lingers, making her either want to kiss him again or make an order for Cinnabon next DDD. "I admit to having a weakness for them, okay?"

Nodding, Caldwell moves away and to his duffle bag, opening it and moving back to her with his hands behind his back. With a flourish, he presents the signature blue box - and Elizabeth responds with a very unlike her squeal and slap to his chest.

"You monster, how did you know and how many did you eat?"

"Just one, and you let it slip one morning last time." He smiles, handing her the box. "Just put in a request next time, you deserve something for yourself."

Elizabeth smiles down at the box and then places it on the table, her mind suddenly occupied with other thoughts. "Well, Colonel," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking up at him. "My request is right here."

"Request granted, ma'am."

[audioletter]

For @sga-owns-my-soul - the wax seal that inspired Day Two of audioletterTober McShep. Yes, they're paper cranes but you get the idea. Bronze, black and blue for John. If you know you know

Now I have

in my head. Not the song that inspired the fic lmao

[audioletter]

Day Three: Skillful Dirtbag!Lorne (This was borne from a conversation on Discord with @trainofcommand that they no doubt don't remember - but this is dedicated to them. Enjoy!)

Evan was enjoying this way too much. The cop - Sheppard, he'd introduced himself as - and the dude in the corner who remained nameless getting more and more frustrated with each question that remained unanswered.

I mean, Evan thought, inwardly smirking, why did these fuckers deserve answers anyway?

"This isn't your first time in here, Lorne. Just spill why you were hanging around the building and we may let off with a light moment with the fellas at county." Sheppard was pissed, spreading his hands across the steel table and almost growling.

In another world, Evan would find it hot - hell, he did find it hot, but repressed, stubble-ravaged men were always worth a good time - and he smiles, bright like a diamond towards the dude in the corner.

"He looks like a Man in Black, he'd probably know."

"You were in a secured area, Mr. Lorne. Caught on the cameras trying to break into a restricted facility. That's a federal offence." The Man in Black spoke, moving forward from the wall and into the light. He's not an ugly man but not a hugely handsome one either, but he's got a gravitas about him that even Evan can't deny as being attractive.

Evan laughs. "My, my, two hot men interrogating me? What did I do to deserve such a wonderful Saturday night? This is better than sucking some dude off in an alley - which, I might add, is something I do skilfully."

"And we needed that information, why?" sighed Sheppard, moving back from the table to begin pacing. Got him now, Evan thinks, and he rolls his back into the uncomfortable chair.

"This would be kinkier with handcuffs, guys."

"Answer the questions and I'm sure we can assure you're someone's bitch in county."

"Now, now, Mysterious Man," Evan tsked, wide-eyed and faux shocked, "is that anyway for a government man to speak?"

"Answer the fucking question!" The bang on the table from Sheppard's hands doesn't even cause Evan to shrink. This ain't my first rodeo, and he leans even further back into the chair.

"What are you guys hiding in that place, anyway?"

"Need to know."

"I need to know, so -" Evan spread his hands in a shrug. "go ahead and I might tell you who hired me to go sniffin'."

"This is fruitless, Sheppard," the Man in Black sighed, visibly frustrated finally and Evan feels a spike of nasty glee. "Just - he's good, real good, but I don't know about sending him through."

"He's a fucking scumbag of a criminal," Sheppard sneers, pacing resuming. "Do you want that on your -"

"Need to know, Sheppard, and he hasn't earned it yet."

Ah, so there was something hinky about that place, Evan thinks, pondering, churning - something that could pay big if he played his cards right, and for once, he smiles at a cop genuinely.

"I'll tell you what. I'll fuck you if you fuck me, capisce? Gimme what I want if I give you what, tit for tat and all that -" he waves his hands - "bullshit".

Sheppard and the Man in Black exchange looks. "He is skilled in…well, he'd be a good way of infiltrating some of our more frustrating areas," the Man in Black hedges.

Sheppard smiles, and Evan feels a shock of something at the bared teeth. "Let's hope you're ready, princess."

"Oh, I am, Detective Sheppard. I'm always ready."

[audioletter]

Day Thirteen: Mask John Sheppard (for @colonelshepparrrrd)

The porcelain is cold under his fingers as he grips the sink and stares at himself in the mirror. Another day, another ten-twelve-sixteen hours spent with people he was sure he loved but couldn't bring himself to show it.

John has trouble showing emotion, Ms. Fletcher, his second grade teacher had said. You never say what you mean! Nancy had screamed more than once, before signing the papers that solidified the death of their marriage and the inkling he'd always be alone.

Alone wasn't so bad, and he should shave, but he can't be fucked. What good would it do anyway, he looks scruffier than the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Major that first went through the Gate but even he knows that was just posturing. Him trying to make a good impression to a bunch of people he didn't particularly give a shit about - especially Sumner.

It didn't hurt John when he shot him. It didn't hurt him whenever he shot anyone or anything, to be honest, or when he drove a jumper into Atlantis, antagonised the Genii, let someone down by committing something that wouldn't fly with the Geneva Convention.

Dave had said he was a sociopath, once; John had responded it took one to know one before their fraught relationship turned icy cold - inevitable, because he was a product of his upbringing afterall. Maybe, just maybe if his mother had lived, John wouldn't be so disjointed and disconnected, but there isn't time worth spending on what ifs or what could have beens. Waste of time; John runs his hand over his chin, catching his eyes in the mirror, and he sees less hubris and something more like the blank edges of the Pegasus Galaxy.

You could pretend to be engaged, his university girlfriend, name unremembered, had said. Why do you always answer with a shrug and a glib remark, son? You're hiding, because Father Knows Best, after all. He'd felt nothing when the man was put in the ground but a grinding of relief in his stomach, but there was a sadness too that John put away in his heart like anything else too hard to bear.

AR1, though - all three saw through the mask, the walls pulled off, and that terrified John. Nancy had too, once, before it all went to shit, and John knows that one day Teyla, Ronon and Rodney will fully see behind the masquerade too. He's not scared, because there's that inevitability again, but perhaps he's telling himself that because for once, he does care what other people think.

Atlantis, the Pegasus Mission - it mattered, but he struggled to let himself be open to that fact. Lock and key, best to keep his eye on the prize (whatever that may be), and he leans back from the sink and pushes his face from melancholy to the Standard Issue Lt. Colonel Sheppard Special.

Sometimes it was tiring. Sometimes it was necessary. Life was a game, and John wasn't always sure he was winning - but he knew he could at least protect himself if there was a chance he wasn't.

[audioletter]

Day Eight: Kiss for Luck Childe/Lumine

They're completely surrounded, their backs against a giant rock in the Sumeru desert and Lumine begins to feel panic rising in her chest.

She waves to Paimon, “keep down,” responded to with wide eyes and obvious fear - Lumine needs to keep her companion safe and they've been together long enough for Paimon to understand the gravity. How they ended up in this situation - a mess of Eremites, Gardes and Gardemeks waiting for them - she'll never know, but the body pressed against her side beside her was most certainly the reason.

“This is fun, huh,” he grins, breathing heavily and his bow in his hands. Lumine gapes a little, the whirring of the Gardemeks distracting her for a moment as they were obviously advancing on the rock they were hiding behind.

“Can you hear yourself?” she asks, incredulous, and he smiles that cocky smile again, nudging her with his shoulder.

“After all, it was always going to be you and me against the world,” and he pulls up to let off a barrage of blows from his bow before crouching down again. “Wow, it's a whole-ass party out there.”

“What did you do, Childe?” He shrugs in response, smiling at a terrified and suspiciously silent Paimon.

"Lumi, if I had an answer to everytime I was 'what did you do', I'd run out of answers." A shrug again, this time a little downcast. "I'm a Fatui Harbinger, they don't need an excuse."

"And I'm dragged into this because…?"

"You were here, with me. Your choice, I might add."

"This is no time for flirting!" Paimon screeches, stamping her foot mid-air. "What are we going to do!"

Childe stretches up and turns his head, checking out the situation waiting for them. "You and me against the world, huh?"

Lumine keeps quiet, mimicking his previous actions to see what exactly they're up against for herself. She feels trapped, but - as hard as it is to admit to herself - with Childe by her side she's sure they can take them. “I guess it's time.”

He grins. "A kiss for luck?"

A kiss for luck? A Gardemek click and whirl, some shouts of dissent and she knows they're coming. Time had run out, so she sighs, leans forward, and kisses him firmly, resolutely on the lips. She suddenly feels warm all over, and, as they part, a small smile forms on his lips.

"Luckiest man in Teyvat, can't lose now," and he's up, firing before she can even blink, the taste of him on her mouth as she follows behind him into the battle that awaited.

[audioletter]

Day Thirty: Only One Bed (AR1 for @colonelshepparrrrd) (Author's note: Gregory, Queensland is a real place, and my father lived there for a brief time. The more you know!)

Ronon was inches from the kangaroo. A stare down of epic proportions was occurring - the kangaroo laying languid in the shade of a gumtree, and Ronon on all fours.

"This is going to end badly," Rodney whined. "Did he not watch the videos we sent him on Australian wildlife before coming here?"

Teyla walked around Rodney's left, putting one of their carry boxes down near his feet. "You know you cannot stop Ronon when he's on a mission."

Rodney spluttered, his tablet almost flying out of his hands. "And today's mission is get kicked in the face by a muscly marsupial?" A sudden movement and he ducked, squealing a little in a distinctly unmasculine way. "A BIRD just dive-bombed me! What is with this country?"

"That was a magpie, mate, did you need an ice cream container with eyes? Scares 'em off." A warm looking woman walked towards them with John by her side, and Rodney touched his head for injuries. "You'll be fine, they're just protecting their babies."

"Well, is everything out here planning to kill us?" Rodney asked the woman, who introduced herself as Sharon. "I'd heard rumours of your country but…"

Sharon laughed. "Welcome to Gregory, mate. I'd probably get your friend away from the 'roo though, he's going to get a swift biff to the face if he's lucky and one to the nether-regions if he's not."

John walked over and collared Ronon - not an easy feat - pulling him away from the kangaroo who seemed unfazed by the whole thing. "Not now, Ronon, we need to find this ZPM that's been detected here."

"We were just bonding," Ronon growled, but he gave the kangaroo one last dark look before dragging himself over to the group, now surrounded by the last cases of detection equipment from their very out-of-place SUV hire car.

"You'll need a place to stay, right?" Sharon said, putting her hands on her hips. "The Gregory Downs Hotel is mine, and I've only one room left but you're welcome to it."

"That would be excellent, thank you," John smiled, and Rodney rolled his eyes at Sharon's flushed cheeks and shy smile in response. "Where can we check-in?"

The sound of birds and rustling of trees broke through the oppressive heat, the humidity almost killing Rodney the moment they'd stepped out of the car in Gregory, Queensland's...well, "main town" seemed like a stretch, with a population of twenty-five max, but the landscape was, despite being extremely sparse, rather beautiful.

"Ah, nah, we can fix that up in a bit, let's get your stuff to your room." Sharon lead the way, pulling a worn key out of her pocket. The hotel was wood and corrigated iron - Queenslander architecture Rodney had learnt in his study of the area - and she reached a door, wigging the key and swinging the door open to display an even more sparse room than the outside terrain.

And only one bed.

"Sorry, mates, we're full because of a caravan party dropping in, but there's a couch - well, it's a bit buggared but you can make do." She smiled at Teyla. "No doubt these gentlemen will let the lady have the bed, and I'll get you some extra blankets and pillows, all good?"

"All good," John smiled radiantly again, but even Rodney picked up on his dread at the room. "Is there somewhere we can eat?"

"Oh, nah yeah, you can get a good feed at Murray's." She turned and pointed directly next to the hotel. "He'll set you right. Did ya wanna come sign in now, get it over and done with before you fang down?"

"'Fang down'?" Teyla muttered under her breath, moving into the room and testing the bed. It seemed servicable to Rodney's eyes and Teyla's expression confirmed that, and she stood happily. "'Fang down' means to eat?"

Sharon laughed, heartily. "Welcome to Australia, Yanks." She stopped as she turned to walk out. "Oh, 'Yanks' is a term of endearment here, so don't take it too serious, yeah?"

The four of them stared at her and nodded in unison, Rodney clocking the lack of air con and sighed as Sharon left them alone in the room.

—

"No one seems to know anything about a Zed-PM," Rodney groaned, entering the room and throwing himself down on the bed. "And stop trying to get into fights with kangaroos, Ronon."

"I could take one."

"No doubt you could!"

John sighed. "We should get some sleep. Sharon's left some blankets and pillows which is good."

Teyla frowned. "The floor is tile, and the couch seems uncomfortable - certainly we have slept in closer quarters than this bed which seems big enough for all of us?"

A silence fell over the group - awkward, embarrassed and thoughtful - and it was Ronon who threw himself down next to Rodney on the bed and grinned. "Seems fine by me."

"No snuggling," Rodney muttered, knowing he was in for a restless night of Ronon thrashing in his sleep, but he was so tired from the flight to Brisbane, then Cairns, then the massively long drive to Gregory, that he didn't care if he slept on a pile of rocks.

Everyone took their time to get ready, eventually all piling into the surprisingly comfortable bed. The ceiling fan rotated quietly above them, Rodney happily full from the shockingly amazing meal they'd had at Murray's as they lined up, four in a row, on the queen sized bed.

"Good night, all," Teyla whispered from her end of the bed, curled up. "This humidity may be hard to sleep in but let's try."

A chorus of good nights rang through the air, and Rodney found himself falling asleep before he could even complain about the thick air and thin sheet.

—

The next morning - well, it was a game of Jenga to work out exactly how to get them out of the bed. Teyla was still in her ball, but Ronon was very heavily leaning into Rodney, his arm thrown over him, John pressed against Rodney's other side and snoring soundly.

Of course I had to be in the middle, Rodney inwardly groaned, gently picking up Ronon's arm off him and trying to get out of the AR1 puddle. It was going to be impossible until -

"Good morning," Teyla beamed, waking John up in the process. An escape route, Rodney thought, ignoring Teyla and crawling over the top of them to freedom.

"Did you sleep well?" John smirked, stretching his arms above his head.

"Let's just find this Zed-PM before I die of heat stroke and Ronon gets us kicked out for terrorising local wildlife."

"Good plan," Teyla and John said in unison.

[audioletter]

Day Twenty-Six: Laces (Navia/Clorinde, natch) (slightly NSFT)

"Happy birthday."

The clock had barely finished chiming past twelve am, and Navia turned from her dresser where she was getting ready for bed towards the bathroom door, where Clorinde was standing awkwardly in a silk robe.

"Well, thank you! And what are you doing, silly? Do you always have to be first and best at everything, including birthday greetings?" Navia laughed, trying to get Clorinde to relax a little because, frankly, she was looking terrified while standing rock still.

Suddenly, with meticulous care, Clorinde swallowed and pulled off the robe. It fell like an Autumn leaf, pooling at Clorinde's feet and leaving her - oh. Navia swivelled on her chair further, pressing her hand to her heart - Clorinde stood still, one leg bent in a shy pose, in some of the most beautifully constructed lingerie Navia had had the pleasure of seeing in person.

"Is this for me? My birthday present?" she asked huskily, standing and walking slowly over to Clorinde, taking her time to take in the view. A silk brocade corset, boning impeccable; panties covered in lace Navia knew was the best on the market and suspenders holding up smooth, smooth flesh-coloured stockings - the kind made to be taken off.

But most surprisingly - it was all pink. A soft, delicate pink, contrasting magnificently with Clorinde's purple-black hair which was down and tumbling over her shoulders into the swell of her breasts, lovingly helped by the corset's support. Navia was enthralled - it was like seeing a magical creature from the wilds of Sumeru in front of her, and she ran a single finger down Clorinde's arm, enjoying the goosebumps that followed.

"Pink?"

Clorinde cleared her throat. "You told me black was…you said 'utilitarian', but I know you meant boring, and I saw you admiring a pink set in Chioriya's shop, so I…" she trailed off, crossing her arms across her chest in a defensive move Navia knew well. "Nevermind, I just thought because it's your birthday…"

Navia moved in closer, pulling Clorinde's arms from her chest and resting her own on Clorinde's waist. The corset felt like a dream, but those stockings - Navia ran her hand down Clorinde's torso, over her hips, thighs and hooked a finger in the garter. "It's my birthday, and this is exactly what I want." She leant up and kissed Clorinde's jawbone, unhooking one garter and feeling the power that came from the unlocking of Clorinde's body and the obvious desire between them.

"Whatever you wish for, I'll make sure you get, Demoiselle," and Clorinde quickly removed Navia's robe, leaving Navia in her bed smalls against the night air. "Whatever you command, I'll give you, if you'll let me."

Navia smiled, pressing her lips against Clorinde's, snapping the other garter and pushing both stockings down. They felt like honey and wine, the soft silk dripping to the floor and puddling with Clorinde's robe. "Something needs to be done about this corset, because my birthday wish is to give you exactly what you deserve."

Clorinde instinctively turned around, Navia running her hands through her fine, soft purple-black hair and pushing it away so she could see Clorinde's back. Her beautiful shoulders tensed and released in a way that Navia knew was a sign she was extremely turned on, so again she ran one solitary finger from the base of Clorinde's neck to the top of the corset. "Exactly what you deserve," she muttered between Clorinde's shoulder blades, the tips of her fingers caressing the laces of the corset.

There was nothing more sensual to Navia than the tying of a corset - a sprig of jealousy ran through her as she imagined Chioriya pulling, pushing, binding Clorinde into the garment, but she put it aside to reach for the delicate pink bow at the bottom, nestled on top of Clorinde's perfect ass like the birthday present she had presented herself as.

"You were wearing this all day under your clothes?"

"Yes."

"Tsk, keeping secrets from me now?" The idea set Navia on fire. She fiddled with the dainty pink bow, trying to distract herself from the blurring of desire coursing through her body, running a hand up to cup Clorinde's breast and enjoying the gasp of want she received in response. "You should have at least let me fully undress my present, Clorinde."

A heavy swallow. "Next year."

"Mmmmm. Next year, next year," and Navia moved her hands back around to the laces.

Navia went slowly - she pulled the laces from their bow tie, the corset immediately loosening and it almost breathed a life of its own. Carefully, she looped a finger in each lace cross - pull, stop to kiss Clorinde's back; tug, a hand between Clorinde's legs; the pink laces came undone as quickly as Clorinde was under Navia's hand.

"Who's birthday is this, again?" Navia hummed, almost at the top of the lacing. Clorinde, with remarkable self-constraint, kept her hands at her sides, not even trying to capture the corset from falling loose. The laces were soon undone - much to Navia's dismay - and loose enough for Clorinde to step out of it, which Navia demanded she do so in a soft, commanding voice.

"Turn to me," and Clorinde did, her magnificent breasts free and Navia felt heat across her entire body. "Happy birthday to me," she whispered, slipping a finger into the pink underwear that was left and taking her birthday present, happily and whole.