My first CP fic. I usually delight in throwing twists in the stories I write, and I figure pairings need competition to spice things up.
Warning- This is not your typical Wheeler/Linka fic. There will be twists. There will be breaking up and making up. You'll just have to see how it goes. And how it ends.
Most of the story will be in flashbacks. The chapters in the 'present time' are just fillers between two flashbacks.
Despite the alternate pairing, there will be no mentions of adultery in this story. Personally, I strongly disapprove of cheating.
Disclaimer – Don't own franchise, not making any money off this.
Dr. Gi Hwang took off her lab coat and hung it on an available hook, pausing to glance over her lab area. Satisfied that everything was in order, she picked up her purse and headed for the door, while mentally making a note of the list of supplies she needed to order, and the final draft of her research paper.
"Alright Jwalin, that's it for today. I'll see you on Monday morning," she called out to her lab assistant who was hunched over the computer, looking over the week's findings with the rapt attention of a fortune teller looking into a crystal ball.
Jwalin Saxena, her lab assistant and the PhD candidate under her supervision, looked up startled at the sound of his name and then twisted around to glance at the wall clock while somehow maintaining his hunched position, a feat of contortion which impressed Gi.
"It's just lunchtime, Doc. Leaving early today?" he asked.
"I'm meeting a few old friends for…well… a reunion," Gi said. "And since there doesn't seem to be anything urgent in the lab, I figured I might as well clock out early."
"Your former Planeteer colleagues?"
Gi looked at him startled. "How did you know that?" She asked in surprise.
"Just a…shot in the dark," Jwalin said sheepishly. "They're the only old friends of yours that I know about."
Gi smiled. "Alright, have fun on your weekend."
"Not likely," Jwalin snorted. "I'll probably be in the lab all of tomorrow and most of Sunday, as usual." He said glancing at the computer. "I figure I could get a head start on developing an experimental protocol to cross reference our data on manta ray migrations."
"Dedication is a good thing, but you shouldn't slave over the project like that," Gi chided him gently, pausing a moment to reflect on the irony that she had to be the only researcher in the institute who was urging her overworking assistant to work less. "Take some rest. Hang out with friends, have fun. The data will still be there on Monday"
"Its not as if I've got anything particularly interesting scheduled for the weekend, Doc," Jwalin said dismissively. "And the more hours I put in, the faster I can finish my doctorate."
Gi let the matter drop for the moment. Jwalin's work schedule was extremely irregular. He was known to arrive early in the lab and then disappear for half a day and then return after everyone else had left and work until midnight. Gi allowed him to get away with his erratic work habits since he consistently got results and was usually ahead of schedule. Nevertheless she made a mental note to sit him down one day and give him a lecture, mentor to mentee, on the importance of adhering to a proper work schedule and making time for his personal and social life, especially once he was married and had a family that he needed to spend time with. Gi had seen other people whose obsession with work had taken them to the breaking point. Of their lives, their marriages, and even their sanity, eventually reducing them to burnt out shells of their former selves. And Gi couldn't stand the thought of any of her students ending up like that. But despite his unconventional working hours Jwalin was extremely efficient, and Gi would be sorry to see him go after the completion of his doctorate project.
On the drive home she let her mind wander to the get-together scheduled for later in the evening at her house. It had been a long time, too long, since she had seen any of them. Him in particular. All of them kept in touch and corresponded frequently over the phone and through e-mail. Occasionally they managed to meet as and when their schedules and lives permitted. One time, Kwame had been in Washington for a conference and Wheeler had driven down to meet up with him. Another time Gi had been in Brazil and had dropped by to see Ma-Ti. But this was the first time since they had disbanded and gone their separate ways that they would all be in the same place at the same time. Coming out of her reverie, she checked her watch. The others wouldn't be here for another four hours at least.
An hour and a half later she stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel and feeling at least refreshed, if not particularly beautiful, charitable and intelligent. Stopping in front of the mirror, she paused for a moment to examine herself critically. Once the second shortest member of the team, she now stood at a decent height of five feet seven inches. Though now she was the shortest of the group, Ma-Ti having overtaken her in height. She had softened her earlier tomboyish looks, allowing her formerly close cropped hair to grow into a long mane of luxuriant black hair that reached halfway down her back, framing an attractive open heart shaped face with high cheekbones. Her hair in particular had always been one of his favorite things about her.
Turning her attention to her closet, she rifled through her outfits trying to decide which one to wear. Should she go for a casual look for an evening with friends, or a more formal dress? Even though they were meeting at her house it was supposed to be Wheeler's treat and he had requested them all to 'dress up'. Although his definition of 'dressing up' could mean anything from formal office wear to formal evening wear. She shrugged. Since she didn't have any idea what exactly Wheeler had planned for the night, she might as well go for splitting the difference.
Alright, so she needed something that was formal-ish, but not too formal. Something that would not look out of place in a high class restaurant or at a house party. Something that made her look good without being showy. Something that would enable her to fit without sticking out. Something that wasn't gaudy, but not sober either. Minimal make-up.
Hmm. The black strapless gown? No, too formal. The white chiffon dress? Nah, too frilly. The yellow lace? God, what possessed Mom to buy that puffy dress for me? It makes me look fat. The green wrap? Not quite. The blue evening gown. Maybe. The...
Gi froze, her eyebrows raised, as her fingers brushed against a dress that she hadn't worn in quite a while. Slowly, almost reverently, she lifted the dress from where it was almost hidden out of view behind the others and held it against herself, looking in the mirror. It was a red cheongsam, a body-hugging one-piece Chinese dress for women which extended from a high collar neck to halfway below the knee, with slits on both sides and short sleeves coming barely halfway to her elbow.
It was a symbolic dress, the traditional cheongsam redesigned into a modern image. It was elegant with a touch of sexy. The formfitting dress and the high slits showed off her fantastic figure without revealing too much skin. And it served as a reminder of her unique Chinese heritage, something that was an influential part of her upbringing and identity, in tandem with exposure to the modern world. It was a dress which she reserved for very special occasions, usually family functions or formal parties among a group of close friends. It was special, not so much because it was a reminder of her culture, but because he had gifted it to her so many years ago. And it wasn't just because he had gifted it to her, but because he had spent so much time and effort in getting it exactly right. That was what made it so special.
The red cheongsam? She considered for a moment, and her face broke into a small smile which stretched into a devilish grin. Yes, definitely.
She turned away from the window, still thinking about his expression when he saw her in that dress. A teasing reminder of old times. So strange that she, a grown woman, would get this worked up about a dress as if she was a teenager.
It's not the dressing up that I am getting worked up over, she admitted to herself. I still enjoy dressing up for him. She shook her head slowly, the smile very much in place. Look at me, crushing on a man who has been married for years. But despite their messy history, and all that had happened since, he was still very special to her, and always had been.
Admit it, you still love him. A voice spoke up triumphantly at the back of her mind.
Yes, I do. She admitted. I never stopped.
A/N: I figured I'd throw a twist in the usual Wheeler/Linka. And nothing gets the blood pumping like competition.
I haven't revealed the pairings yet. Feel free to guess as the story proceeds. Right now it could go either way.
Like it? Hate it? Please review.
Feel free to criticize on any flaws, however minute, along with suggestions for improvement.