Three Kisses

I have never slept with John Sheppard.

Right now, this was all she could think of. Kolya's gun was pointed at and his words still reverberated through her. "Say goodbye to Dr. Weir."

She was sure it was customary in such moments to have one's life passing in front of one's eyes, good times, bad times, momentous events – a private clip show of one's mind. But no such thing. It stunned her, really, that her analytical mind seemed to shut down entirely in a moment like this, managing to focus on one aspect, one emotion entirely. Especially since it was one that, as a rule, she tried to ignore and store away as silly. But for some reason, all she could think of was that in the months she'd known him now, all the tension and the sparks she and John had generated between them, had never led to anything more than a kiss.

Well, three kisses to be exact. Three kisses that had held so much desire, so much comfort and this tantalizing promise for something more – a promise that would never be fulfilled now. That much was clear as she stared into Kolya's cold eyes, that were measuring her from behind his pistol.

She could hear John's voice screaming his name over the radio, offering him all sorts of irrational deals if he spared her. From beside her, Rodney's sheer terror was like a tangible heat wave, even though she couldn't see him. Her eyes were fixed on the man in front of her.

"Kolya don't do this!" The desperation in John's voice hurt her more than any of his bullets ever could. And again, her mind travelled back in time, away from the raging storm outside, the imminent death and the Genii trying to take her home away.

Three kisses. The first had been a surprise, even though she had initiated it. The guilt had been terrible, afterwards. Barely a week away from Simon, she was already betraying his trust with the first attractive male to cross her path. But she had reasoned with herself that it didn't have to do with any attraction she might or might not have felt, even then, towards John Sheppard. At that moment, it had just been a matter of being there for him, showing empathy and consideration. She hadn't even intended to kiss him, just… hell, she still didn't know. It had just happened.

He was the last to stay on the balcony after their celebration had broken up. Everybody, Athosians as well as expedition members, had been surprisingly thorough at cleaning up their own mess, so the place looked like nothing had happened at all. Elizabeth just wanted to look things over one last time before she retired to her quarters for some well deserved rest.

That's when she saw him. He was standing at the railing not far from the spot where they'd had their argument on the previous day. From the look on his face as he stared out onto the dark ocean, he was miles away in thought. Elizabeth didn't have to guess what he was pondering. She could still hear his words. "Yes, but I have to live with it."

Sighing, she went to lean over the railing beside him. "Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

He didn't flinch or show any other surprise at her presence, just answered her calmly. "I keep seeing his face. He looked at me. I had already taken aim at the queen, then he looked at me. That's when I decided."

"You decided to kill him too." He just nodded and Elizabeth continued. "So you did it because you thought that's what he wanted. Mercy."

"Better to die quickly then have the life sucked out of you." He looked at her for the first time and she was shocked at the raw emotion she saw in his eyes, the vulnerability and the insecurity that didn't fit to the cocky flyboy persona he liked to present to the world. Elizabeth realized that she was in fact intruding on an intensely private moment and suddenly wished she was somewhere, anywhere but here. "John…"

"I think the worst thing for him was that it was me, of all people." he interrupted her. "I keep thinking, had it been Ford or any other one of his people, he would have been more at peace."

"At peace? John, he being fed on by a Wraith!"

He shook his head. "Still, I can just imagine what his last thoughts must have been. He made it clear that I wasn't here by his choice. Whatever he thought of me personally, he never approved of me as an officer. Thought I was an accident waiting to happen. Probably was right, too. And now I've killed him and I have his job, ain't that sweet. He's probably screaming and raging up there in military heav…"

At that point Elizabeth stepped in; she couldn't listen to this anymore. "He was right, John, you aren't here by his choice, you're here by mine. And so far, it's not a choice I regret: He died, you survived, so as a result of that choice, I still have a capable military commander to run the city, as heartless as it sounds. But in that capacity, I can't have you start doubting yourself because of some guilt trip. Our situation is a little too dire for that, don't you think?"

Something akin to anger flashed over the sadness in his eyes. "Don't worry Doctor, your military commander will be just fine." The sarcasm with which he emphasised the title made her cringe.

"Will John be?" she asked softly.

There was a pause. "Eventually." Her heart ached at the pain in his voice. She didn't know him very well yet, but the fact that the events on the Wraith planet hadn't gone straight past him, that he was human enough to hurt this way, only served to make her even more glad that John Sheppard would be at her side for the events to come. Unfortunately, she was afraid telling him so would do more harm than good right now.

She was already about to turn, to leave him like that, tell him "Good night." or "I'm there if you need to talk." and just let him fight this out with himself in private, when something stopped her. Elizabeth Weir didn't act on impulse very often; she was used to choosing her words and actions carefully, something that was essential in her previous line of work. But the urge that overtook her at the sight of John's posture and face, so vulnerable and hurt and wrong for a man of his character and ability, this urge was so strong that she didn't stand a chance.

So, on impulse, she closed the distance between them, cradled his face with her hands put her lips on his. She put everything she couldn't say into the kiss, her sympathy, her understanding, the hurt she felt at seeing that look in his beautiful eyes.

After a moment of shock, he responded by putting both hands on her waist, drawing her closer, until their embrace became close and comforting. The kiss itself however, stayed almost chaste, just his soft lips on hers, mouths opened only a little bit. They were slowly tasting each other, drinking in each others presence, sending each other one message: You are not alone in this.

Elizabeth couldn't say how long it lasted. All she knew was that he felt wonderful, somehow right in her arms, and when that thought actually processed in the considerably slowed down synapses of her brain, she panicked. She couldn't do this. It was wrong and unprofessional and… wrong, on so many levels. Comforting him was one thing but this was… way too good, considering their respective positions and – oh God! – Simon.

So, even though her whole body ached to deepen the kiss, she pulled away gently, bracing herself for an awkward moment. But when she looked into his face, there was no confusion, not even amusement or forced sarcasm. Thankfully though, there was considerably less pain, as well. So Elizabeth bit her lip and lifted her hand to caress his cheek one last time.

"I'm glad you're here, Major Sheppard." she said softly. "You're a good man."

He answered with such a small nod that she could hardly see it, but it was enough to show her he understood. Understood her reasons for this kiss, as well as her trust in him, and that gave her confidence. Maybe she hadn't handled this situation so badly after all. She gave him a small, reassuring smile and without waiting for his answering one, turned and left him to his own thoughts.

None of them had ever mentioned the kiss again. But from then on, there had been a familiarity in their dealings with each other and there was certainly no denying that she'd thought about it more often than she cared to admit. Whenever he did that adorable pout, she remembered the feel of his lips on hers, whenever their gazes lingered a little too long or they shared a knowing smile. And not only was she constantly aware of her attraction to him, with each passing crisis her respect for John grew rapidly. She ignored the implications of that to a degree she hadn't thought her rational mind would allow her. But it seemed denial was, after all, a river in Egypt – and Egypt was conveniently located in another galaxy.

And denial about that whole attraction-slash-kiss business seemed to work – at least until it happened again.

TBC