omg_wtf_yeah | HLotS fiction: Flight Lessons, G

Title: Flight Lessons
Rating: G
Fandom: Homicide
Crossover: Homicide: Life on the Street/Stargate: Atlantis
Word count: 673
Summary: SGA verse. Tim teaches Frank to fly. Demented crack for the lighthearted hell of it.

Flight Lessons

Flight lessons with the scientists drove Tim to panic attacks and the edge of heart failure.

He was visiting Carson Beckett and Kate Heightmeyer on alternating days because life in the Pegasus Galaxy was difficult enough to cope with without the anxiety involved in teaching a whole base how to fly telepathically. Even with the ATA gene therapy, a lot of the scientists were hopeless but Elizabeth just wouldn’t see it his way – that there was really no need for them to learn to do something they’d never have to do, anyway. That was sort of what the USAF were there for, right? Apparently not. Elizabeth wasn’t amused and Tim beat it out of her office, making a face like a kicked puppy.

Worst of all, but top priority, was teaching Pembleton to take the jumper controls. Frank was the Head Science Officer so it was kind of necessary and, being friends and teammates, it was only natural for Tim to teach him the ropes. Tim wasn’t actually certain that he wanted to encourage it but Pembleton was vocal in his support of the idea and Tim was certain that Frank was more stubborn than him. Naturally, in the end, he gave in.

“Okay. Easy, nice and easy…,” Tim instructed, drawing the words out so they were a mile long – like a line to guide him. He was getting nervous over in the copilot’s chair, leaning up on one elbow and stretching his presence over the entire cockpit. “Just a nice-a nice, straight line-”

“Would you shut up? I’ve got it.” Frank’s smooth, dark skin was deep in the dim light of the jumper.

Tim stared at his profile, one hand curled tight on the arm of his chair. Then Tim was in Frank's space, reaching for the controls, the light in his close cropped chestnut hair. “Nah, I don’t think-”

Frank made a sound in his throat, swatting at his hands irritably. He was frowning and getting every feature in on it. “No one’s paying you to think, Bayliss.” Frank was pretty sure that’s what they had him for. Bayliss was there to shoot rounds into alien life forms and fly spaceships and Frank was there for his superior brain power and scientific prowess.

Tim didn’t look too irritated if he minded the jab. He settled his lanky body back in the copilot chair, his lean frame clothed in his black BDUs. He reached out, touching the controls with easy command. “Well, let’s just take a look at the HUD-” he suggested, his full lower lip yielding beneath the pressure of his teeth. Like that, the HUD folded out like a map over the cold points of starlight and downy navy hue of the nearby planet’s atmosphere.

“Yeah, see,” Tim said, gesturing to the screen, showing the uneven progress of the jumper crisscrossing over their projected trajectory, two glowing lines hovering over a three dimensional grid marked with ancient text. “Straight? See, that’s-that’s not very straight, Frank- That’s more like…like crooked.”

Frank decisively flipped the HUD off. “Get out of here,” he replied flippantly.

“Yeah, see, about that, Frank - funny thing is, I don’t want to explode or crash or-”

Frank ignored him as hard as he could, focusing on the controls beneath his fingers and flying in a straight line. Ahead of him was the velvet darkness of space.

Next to him, Tim gestured with both hands to his chest, his mouth sagging wide to show his white teeth, that crooked one that looked sharp like a fang, his eyebrows arching up expressively. “See, I’m funny like that.”

Frank’s lips curved pleasantly, shooting a glance at the other man, his eyebrows raised high. They stared at one another, silently vying for the upper hand but of course, Frank won.

“You done complaining yet?” he asked.

Now he had a handle on this flying thing, he was pretty sure they were ready for some more complicated maneuvers and having mastered the basics, he wasn’t planning on letting Tim take the wheel anytime in the foreseeable future.