First Glimpses: First Step
by Becca
E-MAIL: yuna_ezri@yahoo.com
STATUS: It's a series, this is the second part :) Another will follow
soon, and more are planned for later
CATEGORY: D/J romance,
RATING: G
SPOILERS: 'Stargate' (the movie :))
SEASON/SEQUEL: Before season 1; see the 'SERIES' bit for more info on
sequels :)
SUMMARY: 'Firsts' for Daniel and Janet
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the
property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This
piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary
purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended.
Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are
copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, I -know- I don't need more series... :) Hope ya
enjoy
I glance back at my office, noting the piles of work all over my desk
and any other available surface, including the floor. I'm amazed I can
still find my -desk- in this place...catching up on all the work is a
good idea.
But lunch comes first. Definitely. And then finding some way to get a
coffee machine in my office...I have a feeling it'll be a late night.
After nudging a pile of papers a -little- more upright, I turn to
leave, inserting a key in the lock as I pass by and reaching out to
close the door behind me. I've only -just- gotten it into -some-
semblance of order, and I -definitely- don't need it destroyed by some
ignorant nurse while I'm gone.
Unfortunately, my carefully planned escape goes haywire as someone
hurries up to me, tripping over the edge of God-knows-what as he goes.
He falls, but manages to keep himself at least semi-upright by grabbing
onto my doorframe for dear life.
Thud.
There goes -that- stack of papers...
Sighing, I help him regain a vertical position and he smiles
apologetically as he sees the sprawl of papers on the floor over my
shoulder.
"Sorry...um, I should really learn to be more careful," he says by way of
apology.
"It's ok," I tell him, though inside I'm giving him a good telling-off
in my head. It -only- took me a couple of hours to sort out my office,
after all. "Are you hurt?" I ask, giving him a cursory glance as I
remember that this is the guy I saw in the hallway yesterday. "I'm sure
one of my nurses could..."
"Oh, no, it's nothing like that," he reassures me. "I just wanted to
ask you something..." He looks at me nervously, and I'm suddenly reminded
of a boy asking a girl out on a date for the first time.
Thinking back to my assessment of him from yesterday, I recall a
childlike innocence in his eyes, probably the only thing that kept me
from making a snarky comment to him about looking at me that way. His
assessing me was probably anything -but- innocent, of course. He seemed
strong...an inner strength that would prove itself when it needed to, but
wasn't prone to unnecessary displays of masculine prowess. He's
definitely academia, the rings under his eyes and unkempt look proves
that. Unfortunately, they only serve to add to his adorableness.
Sighing, I give up all thoughts of getting away quickly for lunch and
ask the inevitable question: "What did you want to ask me?"
"Oh, uh..." he pauses, flustered for a second, as though surprised, but
rushes on before he can lose confidence. "Look, I know you haven't told
me your name, or anything, and you don't know mine...but would you like
to have lunch? With me?" He gives me a completely adorable uncertain
look, which, combined with those puppy-dog eyes, is enough for me to
answer before I can give it a second thought.
"Yes." I smile. "I'd love to!"
The look he gives me makes my heart quiver delightfully, such a
grateful excited look, and I don't regret saying yes.
"Oh...the mess..." he says, gesturing at it as his face falls.
"Forget it," I reply quickly, closing the door and locking it. "I'll
clean it up later."
"Ok." He smiles. "I'll help you clean it up after lunch."
"You don't have to do that," I reply, starting to head in he direction
of the infirmary door.
"Yes, I do! I made the mess!" he protests, matching my pace.
This will certainly be an interesting lunch, I think, shooting back a
reply as we exit the infirmary.
**********
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