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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Michael Bates' LiveJournal:
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| Friday, December 29th, 2006 | | 11:42 pm |
chatporn!
Michael finished up the last of the mission reports that had been piling up and sighed in relief. It was pretty late but he knew Dylan was still working in the lab, so going home seemed pointless. Instead, he clicked on the intraweb icon the scientists had set up and signed himself onto the simple chat program. Dylan's laptop chimed and he peered up at the screen smiling as he saw Michael's name appear. He grinned and opened a chat window. ( sgt-bates and bugman have a 'conversation' ) Current Mood:  horny |
| Saturday, December 23rd, 2006 | | 12:07 am |
Hurt and Comfort
He waited a long time, by himself, after Jolene had left. Critising himself over and over in his mind over the way he'd ended it. He'd not had many relationships before, just sex buddies, so the whole area was still new to him. After a while, he decided beating himself up wasn't helping and headed to Dylan's quarters. Wanting to hear his sweet voice tell him he did ok. Needing to bury himself close to the other man's heat. Current Mood:  crappy |
| Saturday, December 16th, 2006 | | 12:52 pm |
We do what we must
Michael had commed Dylan after his run in with Jolene, to let him know he might not be meeting him tonight, or if he did it would be later. He'd stayed late at work, not wanting to wait for her in his empty quarters and worry over what he would say. He arrived back home only a few minutes before they'd arranged to meet, just giving him enough time to throw on the first civvies he came across. Current Mood:  frustrated |
| Saturday, December 2nd, 2006 | | 1:15 am |
The Morning After...well midmorning-ish anyway ;)
Michael rolled over in bed, almost surprised at colliding into a warm body, until memories from last night - hell, earlier this morning too, filtered back. He smiled, comfortable and content and wrapped his arms around Dylan's naked midriff, kissing his cheek. "Morning sweetheart." He murmured into his ear, just loud enough to gently tease him into waking. |
| Friday, November 17th, 2006 | | 9:23 pm |
Confrontation
After waving Jolene goodbye, he went straight to Dylan's quarters. The scientist had dumped him, he couldn't just change his mind whenever the hell he wanted. Especially not when he had such a good thing going, and he intended to let him know. Once he arrived, he didn't bother chiming, knocking on the door with his fist instead. |
| Saturday, October 21st, 2006 | | 12:13 am |
Midnight musings
He strolled through the walkways and across the balconies of Atlantis. He'd never done this. He'd patrolled these routes plenty of times. He even jogged through them on occasion. But he's never just walked. The bright moonlight sparkled on the dark waters below and gave everything a slightly surreal touch. He'd tried to sleep after seeing Dylan in the messhall but that had been completely unsuccessful. So now he walked, hoping for something that might distract him from the painful gaping hole in his chest. |
| Sunday, October 15th, 2006 | | 2:06 pm |
Lost Treasures
Michael walked into the mess hall for dinner. It'd been a long, thoroughly pointless day. Callaghan and Harris had gotten into a spat over something neither of them would admit too. Of course, their teams had felt the need to get involved too and before long they had a good old fashioned brawl on their hands. He hadn't seen such juvenile behaviour since Basic. All he wanted was a hot meal, some tea (and when had that become important for him to relax) and to sleep. As he walked in, he saw Dylan and that chef sitting together on a table. Dylan had his head tipped back and was laughing generously at whatever the chef had said. The chef was holding out a fork, that was clearly meant for Dylan. He sighed and walked out again. MREs were beginning to look really appetising. Current Mood: frustrated |
| Sunday, September 17th, 2006 | | 2:13 pm |
With you by my side I had the world at my feet, now you're gone along with my world.
Tonight was the night he was to have dinner with Jolene. For some reason, he couldn't fathom right now, he'd told her he'd cook. So he'd planned his day to let him finish early. He'd dressed early and was wearing his only pair of tight jeans with a figure-hugging, short sleeved black T-shirt. His culinary experience was pretty much limited to boiling pasta or opening cans but he'd manage to sweet talk one of the elderly female cooks into helping him with a pot roast and assorted Athosian vegetables. Nick had given him a couple of pieces chocolate cake that he'd made the previous day that would make a great dessert. He moved his desk from it's corner to the center of the room, carefully clearing away all the stuff from it so it could be used as a dinner table. He dug out the long, elegant white candles that Cadman had given him once for his first proper date with Dylan. He held them in his hands, idly rubbing down it's length, feeling the smooth wax beneath his fingers. And suddenly every detail of that dinner with Dylan was as clear as if it'd happened yesterday. He could see his ecstatic expression as the scientist walked into the room and saw the effort he'd gone through for him. He remembered feeding him from his lap, the taste of the chocolate cookies and of Dylan's kisses. He has vivid flashbacks of the fantastic sex they'd had, right here on the chair in front of him. He remembered cuddling up with him in the bed afterwards and holding him close until they both fell asleep, soothed by each other's presence. It's all too much. Too real. The pain still far too recent. Jolene seemed like a nice girl, it's unfair to lead her on unfairly. He tapped his comm. "Sergeant Bates to Miss Taylor." He waited until he hears her acknowledge on the other end. "Hey Jolene. I'm really sorry, but something's come up. I don't think I can make our date tonight." Current Mood:  nostalgic |
| Wednesday, September 6th, 2006 | | 4:43 pm |
Life goes on....
Michael sits on the floor in his quarters, leaning against the foot of the bed. His knees are bent up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Opposite him is the glass box he's been staring at for the better part of an hour. Inside it is a perfectly preserved insect like creature about 2 feet long that he'd caught on PXR 824, a hot, desert like planet.   The damn thing had shot some kind of acid causing a deep burn across his right leg that had taken days to heal up. But he'd managed to keep it hidden from Dylan. After the other scientists had played with it a bit, on the promise of not letting Dylan find out, he'd preserved and mounted it from some supplies he'd picked up back on Earth. He had wanted to surprise Dylan with it on his birthday, but now he had no idea what to do with it. Finally deciding that it wasn't any use to him so the scientist may have it, he creeps into the physiology lab. It's pretty late so he doesn't expect anyone to be there but he uses to life signs detector to make sure. He leaves it on the desk with a scribbled note, saying simply Happy Birthday Dylan. Current Mood:  disappointed |
| Monday, September 4th, 2006 | | 11:19 pm |
Venturing out
For the last few days, Michael had pretty much been curling in on himself. Still pretty embarrased over his breakdown in front of Nick and still hurting from Dylan's rejection, he thought it would be best to avoid people completely. He started to follow a pattern. He did his job, came back to his quarters and went to sleep. But Atlantis is a small place and he knows that if he keeps this up, the gossip mill would have a field day. So this evening, he decides to eat in the mess hall. He waits until it's slightly later though, less people around but enough to verify his presence. Most of the tables that are occupied have a couple or group on them. He's about to join Radner and a couple of airmen when he spots Dylan's lab assistent by herself on a table. Nodding at the soldiers, he walks past. "Hi...Jolene right? Mind if I take a seat?" Current Mood: crappy |
| Friday, September 1st, 2006 | | 2:44 pm |
the hangover from hell
Michael wakes slowly, even with his eyes closed his head is pounding. He feels like he's been hit with a Wraith stunner. Which actually may not be far from the truth. He doesn't remember any of what's happened. It takes him a few minutes to realise his head is nestled in a warm lap. "Headhurts. What did we do?" He murmurs, his words slurring together. He buries his head further into the lap. Current Mood:  hung over |
| Tuesday, August 29th, 2006 | | 8:33 pm |
Drinking alone
After getting out of the shower , he absent-mindedly put in one of the old game DVDs that Gabe had sent and grabbed a beer. The drink was gone before he realised it, so he got another. By the end of the first game, there were 6 empty bottles surrounding him and he'd just moved the entire crate to the couch. Current Mood:  drunk |
| Thursday, August 24th, 2006 | | 1:29 pm |
Mishaps are like knives, that either serve us or cut us.
It had been over a day since his disagreement with Dylan. He was hoping the scientist would come around to see sense, but that hadn't happened, in fact they'd barely spoken since. He hated to go over his head, but there was little other choice. Dylan was regaining strength and would be back at work soon. Sighing, he composes a new email. To: Dr. Elizabeth Weir Cc: Dr. Carson Beckett From: Sgt. Michael Bates Subject: Iratus bugs Doctors, Further to the incident with the Iratus bugs in Dr. Moore's lab, I have reviewed all our security procedures. It doesn't seem that there was anyone or anything at fault. The system, despite being the best we have at dealing with those bugs and in particular such emergencies, simply failed. Because of this I feel that our best option is to stop all experiments with these dangerous creatures and terminate all the bugs that we currently have. Our scientists have been studying them for over two years. I'm sure that any useful information likely to give us a tactical advantage is already know. Studying these bugs simply for scientific curiousity is irresponsible and if there is another accident, with more deaths, they would be unjustifable. I look forward to your order to terminate. Thank you Michael Bates Current Mood: disappointed |
| Thursday, August 17th, 2006 | | 7:44 pm |
Eventually you will come to understand that love heals everything, and love is all there is.
Michael has been sitting in the infirmary for hours, next to Dylan's unnaturally still body. He'd visited yesterday, when Dylan was first bought in, after he'd dealt with the Iratus bugs, what caused the breach and ensured that it was secure. He'd stayed most of the night but he had to go back to work today, at least for his office hours. He couldn't bear to have anyone think he was weak, especially not with what had happened, what he'd allowed to happen. But it was late in the evening now, his time, so he sits under the harsh, clinical lights of the infirmary. People and noise and chaos all around him, except for the figure in front of him. Quiet. Immobile. Even his chest barely moved. Beckett had said that he would probably be ok. But recovering from something like this was highly individual and the doctor couldn't give him anything more concrete. He doesn't hold his hand, though he wants to. There are too many people and Dylan has had too many visitors already. He hadn't realised how popular his lover was, but it doesn't surprise him. The man has a quality...something about him that draws you in and gets you hooked without even realising. He sighs, breathing away the choking fear that's been surfacing periodically since he saw Dylan die. He leans forward, gently stroking Dylan's cheek and whispering into his ear. "Don't leave me now." He pleads quietly. Current Mood:  crushed |
| Friday, August 4th, 2006 | | 10:27 am |
Some days you just don't wanna get out of bed...
He wakes up with a crick in his neck and a heavy, warm weight on his front. It doesn't take long for the events of the previous night to come flooding back and he kisses the top of Dylan's head softly, careful not to wake him. He's more comfortable than he'd like to admit but the sun is already high and he has a feeling they've overslept. "Good morning sweetheart." He whispers gently into his ear, blowing warm air across his cheek. Current Mood:  content |
| Tuesday, August 1st, 2006 | | 10:40 pm |
How the mighty fall
He stays in his office much later than usual. Telling himself it's because he has a lot of work to catch up on after the trip back to Earth, not because he's avoiding a certain scientist. He's still not quite sure why he reacted as badly as he did. It would happen when he was starting to fall for the man though. He sighs and saves the report he's working on, switching off the laptop. It's late enough that the corridors are virtually empty. When he arrives at Dylan's quarters, he knocks on the door quietly, rather than letting himself in. There's no point in disturbing the man if he's asleep already. Current Mood:  annoyed |
| Monday, July 17th, 2006 | | 9:33 pm |
He and Dylan are lazily cuddling in bed, late in the morning. Rare British sun shining in through Dylan's large windows. Mr. Moore arrived home yesterday and Dylan and the family spent the rest of the day making sure he was settled in and comfortable. Michael had stayed around the edges, feeling like an outsider, despite the fact that Dylan kept smiling at him forcing him into the conversation. Eventually Mr. Moore's physician had instructed that he needed rest and peace, so Dylan and Stuart had agreed to not start fussing over him until later today. "So any ideas on what to do today?" He asks nuzzling into him. Current Mood:  lazy |
| Tuesday, July 11th, 2006 | | 1:26 pm |
Getting to know you
After leaving the hospital, they arrrive back to Dylan's home late in the evening. It's been a long day, but Michael doesn't fail to notice the grandeur of the place. It takes a 10 minute drive to get from the front gates to the main building. Dylan's mother, a smart, well-presented woman, sends them upstairs to rest after their long journey before dinner in an hour. He mutely follows Dylan through the various corridors and staircases and is not really surprised to see that only one suite has been made up for the both of them. "You're family really do know you, huh?" He says with a smile. Current Mood:  tired |
| Saturday, June 24th, 2006 | | 1:14 pm |
Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.
Unusual for him, he walks slowly, almost aimlessly, down the corridor between the infirmary and his quarters with his shoulders slumped, his head down, his eyes focusing only on his feet. The Ayrani's were potential new allies who had been willing to share their advanced weapons, medical resources and generations of experience in fighting the Wraith in exchange for the knowledge in the Ancient database. He hadn't trusted them on sight. For once Colonel Sheppard had been more or less in agreement and he'd joined Lorne's team as they went to visit their home. He and Nick were the only ones to return, neither of them unscathed. He'd been shot in the leg with an energy-based weapons that sent out localised pulses, thereby disabling the target without killing them. Dr. Weir had been particularly interested in that one for use against the Genii and similar enemies. Thinking back on it now, he still doesn't know when things had gone wrong. They were invited to join the mid-day meal which they did, cautiously. Then there had been a tour of the main medical facility, the science geeks that had tagged along had gotten a real kick out of that. Finally they were taken to a something similar to a target range complete with holographic people that reacted the same way a body would when shot. Ritter had made an innocuous comment on the weapons which obviously had some other meaning for this culture as they suddenly found themselves the target. He was proud of the way their men had reacted, going from relaxed to combat ready in the blink of an eye and reflexively protecting the scientists. But they'd been on unfamiliar ground and far outnumbered. Then he'd been shot, blocking Dr. Denning and the next thing he remembered is being pulled through the gate by the Major. They'd debriefed and been checked over. He'd signalled his gratitude to Nick with a simple head nod and had gotten a hand wave in return. Neither of them were in much of a mood to communicate, although he imagined it might be worse on Lorne. It was his team after all. After that they'd headed in different directions, back to their own quarters. His was empty, he hadn't expected any different. There was no reason Dylan should be here when he wasn't scheduled to return until tommorow. In that he envied Nick, at least his friend had someone - two someones even - to go home to. Not that there was anything he could do about it. Dylan already had some strange ideas about his level of commitment, he couldn't expect the man to be here any more than he already was. Getting through his nightly ablutions quickly, he climbed into bed and tried to sleep. Hours later, he was still as awake as he had been. Giving up, he reached for his comm, adjusting it to Dylan's frequency. "Dylan, I know it's late. Sorry to disturb, but I...well I thought you might want to know I came home early." Current Mood: crappy |
| Monday, June 12th, 2006 | | 6:23 pm |
Why is it that as a culture we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?
He tiptoed up behind Dylan, ambusing him as he stepped out of the bathroom, already dressed. He wrapped his arms around the scientist's front and nuzzled along his neck. Breathing in the sweet smell of the body wash mixed in with Dylan's heady, masculine scent. "You sure that soap isn't an aphrodiasic?" He murmurs onto still damp skin, grinnning happily. Dylan's stomach starts to grumble and the grin turns into a chuckle. "Let's go get some breakfast." He pulls him towards the door. They could eat here but after the conversations last night he thinks Dylan deserves to know of the level of his involvement. He kisses him deeply at the door and then opens it, stepping outside and taking hold of the scientist's hand as he walks down the corridor. Current Mood:  optimistic |
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