A/N: Alex and Mick are Reefgirls, and make starring appearances in "Cooking With Blue Mary Sue" (which I adore) and a couple of the Atlantis Stitch'n'Bitch Club 'fics, which are also incredibly hilarious and are a nice bit of relief from the lack of new episodes on TV -sobs-
A/N2: If that didn't make it through to all of you, that was a subtle-in-the-way-that-only-a-sledgehammer-can-produce HINT for you to Go Read Reefgirl's Stories. They are wonderful. You will not be disappointed. Now go!
A/N3: Or you can read this first. Either way.
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Well here it is again, February the fourteenth, the time to break out the red food coloring and the heart-shaped cookie cutters and start blushing like an idiot every time a certain Czech scientist looks my way.
I don't know what's come over me, usually I try and hide on St. Valentine's Day, but I have a feeling this year may be a bit better than years past.
Apparently I'm right, as when I return to the kitchen at five thirty in the evening, I find that it is already spotless and ready to start dinner. Good ol' Mick.
I'm humming as I begin to put together a pastry dough for an apple pie, and the heart-decked commissary begins to come to life, with the first batch of hungry astrophysicists chatting amicably as they wait for their food.
I'm just finishing plopping the crust into a pan and crimping the edges when my vision goes completely dark.
Groaning, I reach up and grab the hands that have been placed over my eyes. When I detach them from my face, I turn around, still holding them, and nearly melt.
Good Lord.
"Erm, hi, Radek!" I say, sheepishly trying to wipe off the floury fingerprints I've left on his hands. He grins.
"Good evening, Alex," he says, bowing slightly. I swear I shall never get used to men being polite to me. Usually it's, "hey, Alex, turn that batch of soup off before you set the planet on fire," and other such encouraging comments. I tell you, no one respects authority in this galaxy.
I snap back to reality as I realize that Radek is holding out a box to me. It's covered in pink wrapping paper with white ribbon, about the size of a medium-sized book, and looks to be a box of chocolates.
Smiling my thanks, I hasten to open the box, and gasp with pleasure as I see that I was right and it is chock-full with the most delicious-looking Belgian truffles I've ever seen.
Sigh.
I may have to marry this man.
"Radek, I . . ." I start, then trail off, throw caution to the winds, grab his shirt-fronts, regardless of the flour, and proceed to snog him senseless.
Or, at least, that was my plan, but he reciprocates quickly and it ends up being me who is weak-kneed. In the interest of prolonged contact, I scootch over to the space between the counter and the wall, pulling Radek along with me, and I am able to stabilize myself in the nook.
He seems happy with this arrangement, as he wraps his arms tighter around my midsection and deepens the kiss.
I'm so overwhelmed at this rush of pleasure that I barely register Dr. Winter's muttered greeting as she rushes past us to get to the freezer - she's undoubtably after that ice cream she bribed me to save for her. I won't tell her that Dr. McKay has followed her here, she can find out for herself. Right now I'm perfectly happy to devote my energies to Radek, and the rest of the world can just wait.
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A/N: So, fluffy? Not fluffy enough? I really like writing this 'ship, Alex is one of the most fun OC's to write for. THANK YOU REEFGIRL!