Lines (Sliders; Quinn/Wade; Challenge #6) and Doctor's Orders (Sliders; Quinn/Wade; Challenge #18)

Title: Lines
Author/Artist: risingfire
Pairing: Quinn Mallory/Wade Welles
Fandom: Sliders
Theme: #6, The Space Between Dream and Reality
Disclaimer: Totally, totally not mine. The characters belong to Fox and Sci-Fi and a ton of other people with money and shiny lawyers. I, alas, am a simple, broke college student, writing for fun.


The last slide disturbed him, and Wade can't really say she blames him.

First, it was the shock of finding out their doubles had been married - which she can see happening if they ever get home, though she'll probably have to propose to Mister Workaholic. Then, it's him getting used by her double. And finally, it was finding out that she - well, not her, the other Wade - was the one that killed the alternate Quinn. It was the idea of knowing that some part of her might be capable of that, because all their doubles had some things in common, right? Not that she'd ever do that, she cares for Quinn too much, but still. It's like a slap in the face. For both of them.

And maybe, worst of all, she doesn't know how to bring it up, but she wants to. She wants to let him know all the things she's thought about in the last couple of hours away from crazy, married-double hell. To tell him that she'd never hurt him, kill him, and to let him know that she would marry him, because they've become so much more than the buds he'd proclaimed them when this all started. But how to broach the subject? How to reach him, when he's sitting there on that hotel bed, brooding over the timer, trying to fix it with a set of mini-screwdrivers on the nightstand when it's not really broken.

If she starts simply and at all, she figures maybe it won't be so bad. "Quinn?"

"Yeah?" He glances up at her, eyes distracted though not because of the electronics in hand.

"We need to talk."

A frown poisons his features, and suddenly, his eyes are back on the timer - he can't stand to look at her. Not when he can feel what's coming. "Look, if this is about the last world ... "

"It is," she answers, pausing just long enough to mirror his expression. And when she speaks next, she avoids the bad completely, going for the good. "It was kinda nice, huh? To think that we could be married?"

"And that I could end up face down in a pool," he shoots back, tone not accusing - he knows that what happened with her double wasn't her fault - but hurt somehow.

"Quinn," Wade warns, sour look on her face growing. "You know what I mean. ... If we ever get home, it's something to think about, you know? You and me."

He looks up again, his gaze unreadable this time. "There's a line between dream and reality, Wade."

The word are ambiguous. He could be telling her it's never going to happen, or he could be saying the same thing they've all been feeling for months now - they're never getting home. And she decides to take the statement as the latter for more than just group mentality reasons. She knows Quinn, she knows that he does have feelings for her - he's proved it a hundred times over on countless worlds. He would marry her, if they got home, but they're not going to get there in his mind, and it's enough for him to be able to admire her from afar from forever.

But it's not enough for her.

Carefully, but quickly, she slides onto the bed next to him. A second later, the timer is out of his hands, safely resting on the nightstand beside them, and a second after that, her lips are on his for what seems like eternity. And after the ice age is over - or more appropriately, after his shock fades - he's kissing her back.

Another long stretch, and then, she's pulling away, her mouth near his ear. "Maybe there doesn't have to be."

And suddenly, thankfully, Quinn's offering the first real smile he's been able to muster since the last world.





Title: Doctor's Orders
Author/Artist: risingfire
Pairing: Quinn Mallory/Wade Welles
Fandom: Sliders
Theme: #18, "Say ahh ... "
Disclaimer: Totally, totally not mine. The characters belong to Fox and Sci-Fi and a ton of other people with money and shiny lawyers. I, alas, am a simple, broke college student, writing for fun.


"Hey," he started, voice barely a whisper in an attempt to keep her from waking. But voice low or otherwise, Wade still stirred, pushing herself slowly into a sitting position as soon as she was awake enough for her body to know that she wasn't alone.

"Hey," she echoed, groggily. "Is it time to slide?"

Quinn shook his head, lowering himself to his knees beside her. "Not for another couple hours. But I wanted to see how you were doing." He paused, putting a hand first to her cheeks and then to her forehead as he had last time he'd ducked into the makeshift tent to check for signs of a fever. And when he found none this time, he smiled. "Your fever's broken."

"Good." A pause. "How are Rembrandt and the Professor?"

Thinking not of the cannibals that lurked outside the tent, but of the welfare of his friends, his smile grew. "Better."

"Good," she repeated, another moment of sleepy silence following. Then, slowly, but out of the blue, she moved to stand up, and immediately, Quinn's smile evaporated.

"Hey," Quinn protested, putting a hand on her arm to guide her back down to the cot. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get something to eat."

"Uh-uh." He shook his head. "You're still confined to bed. Doctor's orders. I'll bring you something." And this earned him a little unimpressed noise and another attempt at standing, which he stopped again. "I'm serious, Wade. Your fever may be broken, but you're not out of the woods yet."

This time, she didn't bother to try and get up again. "Ok, ok - I'm staying. Anything else, doctor?"

"Yeah. Say ahh."

Wade blinked, uncertain as to whether she'd heard him right in her practically dead on her feet state. "What?"

"Ahh. You know. The Q was kinda like strep throat, right? ... Puss balls on the back of the throat?" To this his patient made a face. "Yeah, I know, it's gross. But I gotta check." Wade made another small face at him before opening her mouth as Quinn had asked, and briefly the scientist leaned in to check her throat, before leaning back satisfied. "Ok. You're good."

"Food now?" she ventured.

Quinn nodded. "I'll bring you some of the fruit the Professor managed to gank from the locals and some water."

Wade muttered her ok to this, promising to keep to her bed while Quinn was away, and with that, he was up and out of the tent. When he returned a few minutes later, however, what he found amused him - for someone who was so convinced she was ready to be up and active, Wade had fallen back asleep on the cot. Not surprising, he figured, but still enough to curl the corners of his lips into a sort of half-smirk.

Setting the procured fruit and canteen of water down on the floor a few feet from her bed, he knelt beside her again, pressing a hand to her forehead once more just to make sure. Paranoid? Maybe. Over-kill? Sure. But considering he'd almost lost her on the last world, and the world before that, he wasn't taking any chances. And when once again, his hand met cool flesh, his smile widened.

Good.

Replacing his hand on her forehead with his lips, he held them there for a long moment before heading for the flap that lead outside again. Sweet dreams, Wade.