beyond_hope (beyond_hope) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-11-08 23:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, john crichton, susan ashworth |
Who: John and Susan
What: John’s secret date
Where: Planetarium
When: After this
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
John hadn’t told her about anything he had planned for their evening, only to dress warmly. He was nervous and excited and he desperately hoped that she would like his little stargazing session. He had spoken to some of his friends at the planetarium and organised for it to be made available for him and Susan that night. He was about to lead her into the main viewing room where he had laid out a picnic for them to share while he pointed out the stars and constellations in the sky projected above them, afterwards, he planned to take their viewing outdoors. Standing outside the door to the auditorium, he smiled at her and held out his hand for her to take.
Susan arrived in jeans and a jumper, and was pleasantly surprised by the idea. It was something novel, and something that had taken effort. For whatever reason, he seemed to genuinely like her, and it made Susan smile. Taking his hand, she walked with him into the auditorium and looked around with curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve ever just looked at the stars before.”
“Ever since I was a kid I’ve not been able to stop,” John told her, a warm smile on his face as he looked up at the projection. “I figured we could have a picnic here, I can teach you about some of the stars if you like and then we could take it outside and see what you remember,” he explained to her as they slowly made their way up to the picnic he had laid out on a blanket near the centre of the planetarium. “What do you think?” he asked with a cheeky grin, turning to Susan and walking backwards the last few steps, still with her hand in his.
She nodded. “That sounds... nice, actually. Thank you.” It was telling that he wanted to share something he enjoyed with her, and Susan figured she’d be a fool not to reciprocate with attentiveness. She also wondered if it was weird that she didn’t really have any passions like this, except possibly the piano.
“Great,” John grinned, turning to the picnic and presenting it with a flourish of his hand. “Then dinner is served m’lady,” he gestured for her to take a seat. There were a couple of cushions on the blanket for her to use if she wanted, dotted around the picnic basket. Once she was settled, he knelt down and handed her a paper plate and napkin before going through the usual picnic food choices of sausage rolls, quiche, fresh fruit and veg and a couple of others. “And would you like something to drink? I've got water, lemonade or even a bottle of white wine if you’re interested,” he offered with a grin.
“Oh, always wine,” she grinned. The napkin and paper plate were nice, and she unfolded the napkin to put in her lap as she got settled. “You must do this often, or did you borrow the basket?” He seemed outdoorsy, so picnics seemed a plausible often thing.
John laughed at her response as he reached for the wine and poured a glass out for her. “Is there something I should know about?” he joked, handing her the glass of wine before pouring one for himself. “Actually, this is my first picnic in a long time,” he told her, a little laugh in his voice. “I borrowed the basket from a colleague actually, I think she’s been on a picnic more recently than me,” he smiled at her as he settled himself down next to her with his wine glass. They were sitting side by side now, shoulder to shoulder and he turned to smile at her, raising his glass for a toast. “To the second date,” he grinned and toasted quietly, eyes running over her beautiful face.
“That I enjoy wine? Not really. I don’t think I can have more than two or three glasses without falling asleep, so that worked out in my favour.” She liked that he sounded vaguely nervous, and she moved to sit closer to him when he settled down by her. “To the second date,” she murmured, taking a sip. It was even good wine, not the crap boxed sort. “Well done, John. This is ... stunning, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” John replied quietly, watching as she settled a little closer to him. He took a slow sip, keeping his eyes on her face. “So,” he asked, clearing his throat and putting his glass down. “Tell me how you’ve been since I last saw you,” he asked, wanting to hear her voice some more.
“I’ve been all right,” she murmured. She pulled her knees to her chest, letting her chin rest on her knees. “Work’s been how you’d expect. The flu’s going around, so lots of vomiting and such. My dreams are predictably wretched. What about you?”
“Ok, maybe in future I should preface questions like that with ‘Without using any terms referring to bodily fluids’,” John joked and grinned, gently bumping her shoulder with his. “More bad dreams? D’you wanna talk about them?” he asked quietly, turning his full attention to her. He could see they bothered her, but she’d never really spoken about them with him.
Susan sighed. “I told you about Eric and Zoe, how they died in a car accident. In my dreams, Zoe died because of an allergic reaction to some flowers. Eric and I were rowing, so we didn’t notice. He drank himself to death - got into the car, drank and got into a wreck. We didn’t find him for days.” She closed her eyes. “So for ten years I felt like it was my fault. In the dreams, the first dream I had, was writing a suicide note and taking a load of sleeping pills and dying.” This wasn’t great date talk, but he’d asked for it.
“Oh god, that’s awful,” John watched her sympathetically. He reached his arm around her back tentatively, hesitating before he placed it over her shoulders and rubbed her far arm gently. “That must have been a shitty Dream to wake up from, I’m sorry,” he told her gently. He couldn’t imagine living through that sort of thing twice, god knows how she’d managed it. “We can talk about something else if you like? I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” he apologised.
“That’s the easiest part of my dreams,” she chuckled. But it was nice to be comforted, and she leaned against him. “I don’t mind, but I understand if you want to talk about something else.” Thiis wasn’t exactly the best date conversation ever. “What are your dreams like?”
John smiled as she leaned against him, relieved she hadn't shunned his attempts to make her feel better. Relaxing, he momentarily forgot about their picnic. “The easiest part, huh? Well that bodes well,” he joked gently, turning a little smile her way. “I'm happy to listen to you if you’d like someone to vent to, your Dreams sound...pretty dark and intense and I can't always promise I'll know what to say. I'm just a guy remember,” he smiled gently at her, giving her shoulder a squeeze as he did.
“My Dreams…” he chuckled looked up at the stars projected above them. “Well mine are full of aliens. Aliens that mostly want to kill me,” he laughed and shook his head. His first few days after being thrown through that wormhole just seemed to be him running from injury to injury being inflicted by various species.
“I know you are.” She smiled and closed her eyes, her head still resting on his shoulder. “I can keep you safe, if they show up here. Well, dream Me could. The devil, or ... someone, sent her back to kill evil people. She can’t die.” Not for lack of trying. But John’s dreams did explain why he liked stars so much. “Did you like the stars before you started dreaming?”
“Wait, what?” John frowned, not sure he'd heard her right. “Are you like some kick ass Amazon who could hand me my ass on a platter before I said ‘general relativity’?” he grinned. He loved the feel of her head on his shoulder, the weight of it comforting and her side pressed against his reassuring. He didn't really care what she did in her Dreams or who had sent her, that wasn't who she was here.
“Well, I may have to count on your skills because I just met a guy who tops tops the weirdometer scale in a big way.” He laughed, but truth was Scorpius scared him, in a way he'd never experienced before. The torture he'd put him through was god damned awful and he never wanted to experience it again. He'd not had those kind of Dreams for a long time but he lived in trepidation of when they would return got a rerun. If he could laugh off how it made him feel, people wouldn't realise just how bad it was.
“I've always loved stars, ever since I was kneehigh to a grasshopper,” he grinned, resettling his cheek against her hair. “My dad was in NASA so I was pretty much pre-ordained to go into some kind of STEM based career.”
“Oh, no, I just can’t die.” Susan chuckled. “I don’t get any fighting abilities, but I do get immortality, so I end up dying a lot.” She could hear his nervousness come through in his laugh, and she lifted her head to look at him. “That bad, eh?” Leaning in, she kissed him gently, hoping that he wouldn’t be taken too off guard by it. She understood bad dreams, and anything she could do to help.
Off guard would definitely have described John at that point in time, but after an initial sound of surprise muffled against her lips and raised eyebrows, he leaned in and returned her gentle kiss. Moving his lips slowly against hers, he kept the contact light, his hand on her arm coming to a stop and giving her a gentle squeeze. He could be the gentleman and wait for her to tell him when she was ready for more. He started to pull away, pressing another kiss to her lips before he did.
Forcing his gaze from her lips, he looked up into her eyes, their faces still close and his breathing now a little ragged. Licking his lips, he tried to figure out something to say, failing miserably.
Susan couldn’t help but giggle a bit when they pulled away and he was breathing so hard. “Are you all right? I do know CPR if you’re not.”
John quirked a smile at that. “It's been a long time since I've been kissed by a beautiful woman,” he told her, he raised his other hand to her cheek and gently caressed it with the backs of his knuckles. “I wasn't expecting that on the second date. We've not even got through any of the food yet,” he grinned.
Laughing, Susan shook her head. “So you and Sarah never kissed? I’m teasing you, by the by. I quite like that I know someone you’ve been intimate with. It proves you’re an adult.” She kissed him again, surprised by her own reactions. When she’d first gone out with John, she’d thought it would be a distraction. She hadn’t counted on ever actually liking him.
John smiled and laughed against her lips, cupping her cheek and stroking his thumb back and forth over the soft skin under her eye. “I’d forgotten about her,” he told her genuinely. “You take that back now,” he pulled away briefly to mutter against her lips before swooping in for another one. “Can't have people think I'm an adult,” he joked before kissing her again, more firmly this time.
“You’re as adult as any grown man is,” she teased. Susan whimpered quietly when he kissed her again, taken aback by the passion behind it. Her husband hadn’t been very demonstrative, and her few dates after Eric’s passing had certainly not included kissing. It had been a very long time since she’d wanted to do this with anyone at all, and it was nothing like she remembered. Part of her hoped she still remembered how to kiss at all.
John couldn't help thoughts about double entendres running through his head, but he managed to stop himself saying anything. He only smiled against her lips again. Hearing her all but whimper against him released an answering one from his throat. He took her lower lip between his and lightly ran his tongue along it. His arm around her shoulder dropped to her waist and encouraged her closer to him with tiny, little movements she could easily shuck off if she wanted.
Susan took his lead and did move closer to him, smiling as they kissed and moving so she was all but in his lap. Susan had never had a second date like this, but there was something about John that was just understanding and funny, and okay, he was a little sexy, she’d give him that.
Naturally, John pulled her closer, the arm around her waist squeezing gently as she settled practically on top of him. He was very surprised at how eager she seemed to be with their kisses. He knew, of course that her husband had passed away some time ago, but a beautiful woman like Susan must have been inundated with invitations for dates. Why she’d picked him he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to question it right now.
Sliding the hand on her cheek back into her hair, he pulled away from her fractionally, resting their foreheads together. Her warm breath puffed against his lips and almost distracted him entirely from managing to say, “Best picnic ever.”
That made her laugh, and she moved to open up the basket. “Well, we still have to eat. It could be a very rubbish picnic, and I just don’t know yet.”