[A/N: I don't ususally do saccharine, but Sheppard and Weir wouldn't shut up this morning, and AY, U isn't talking. Have insulin standing by. Don't own, etc.]
SHE HAD BEEN to see him three times already, in every spare moment she had. Except John knew she didn't have spare moments. So he wasn't and he was surprised when he heard a light step enter his room.
He had memorized even that small detail about her long ago.
Without opening his eyes, he said, "We have to stop meeting like this." He looked over to see her smile, warm and enveloping.
"You weren't really going to say that, were you," she countered, dropping once again into the discussion they'd had at every visit. His only answer was the quirk of his mouth.
She settled into the chair beside him. Even that move was graceful and authoritative. He loved watching her move. He stared blearily at her, thinking of that. A long pause stretched out between them, and his eyes never left her quiet form beside him.
"What?" she finally queried.
He blinked. "Oh...just got my meds. So, nothing. Just a little...fuzzy."
Her smile was electric. "You know I'm kind of fond of fuzzy."
He loved the way her mind worked. She could twist a sentence to send a message to him in the middle of a crowded briefing, no one the wiser. Alone in the infirmary, she had no need of subtlety.
"Lucky me," he replied. Another small silence grew. Her gaze was intense as always. Finally the need in her eyes was replaced with a curiosity.
"What was it like?" she asked.
"What was what like?" Her gaze told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't here for games. He sighed.
"It was..." His voice trailed off. It was beyond words. At first it was pain and more pain, beyond what the bug had caused him, but so brief. He was glad when all pain ended; he hadn't sobbed in the Jumper but he had wanted to so badly, from the moment he felt the first excruciating touch of the creature. More pain was not what he could have handled.
And then there was peace. A quiet stillness that tried to hold him, envelope him, welcoming. He'd given in to that peacefulness for just a moment, tempted to stay inside that warm cocoon. But the lack of her presence pained him more than his death. It started with a longing and grew to a burning desire that rivaled the pain of before, until he'd clawed his way back from the warm enveloping dark. To her. He could feel her there in the jumper bay, knew her eyes were fastened on him. Could feel her slide down to sit as tension left her with Dr. Beckett's "He's going to be O.K."
"It was kind of peaceful," he said. "But lonely."
Her gaze was electric. He found himself wishing he was whole and healthy and alone with her in one of their quarters. A wistful smile played at his lips, a promise of things to come. He could see it echoed in her eyes. Without considering the consequences of discovery, she moved towards him, captured his lips in a hungry kiss. He pulled his arms back from where they'd made their way around her.
"Lizzie," he said, an entire conversation in that one word.
"I know," she replied, pulling back, a small smile at her lips. "I'm just so damned glad you're back."
"Damned glad to be here," he agreed, and once again, he found himself kissing her.
Screw the consequences, he thought. This was worth coming back for.
Fin.