Author's Notes: This is sort of a companion piece to something else I wrote and posted: Indefinable, which was from Sheppard's perspective. I've been meaning to write this for sometime, but seem to be having trouble getting into Elizabeth's head. She seems much more complex than him to me, I guess. Anyway, please read (both!) and review! I would appreciate any and all (constructive!) criticism or just plain joyful gushing. ;)
Arms crossed and hugged to her body, she watches them from the balcony and smiles as he turns and gives a lazy, two-fingered salute. His team enters the event horizon, and after holding her gaze for just another second, he follows them through.
Her arms drop and she walks back to her office and to the electronic mission reports that await her. She appreciates the ease and convenience of her computer, but there are times when she misses the tactile sensation that comes with flipping through a folder with sheaves of paper, glossy photographs and the like. So instead she absently fiddles with a plastic stylus, flipping it through her fingers while thinking of the team that just left.
She's too close to them and she knows it. She thinks that nearly everyone in the expedition knows it – Major Lorne certainly thought it was pretty obvious. Though there are times Rodney makes her want to scream, she knows he is irreplaceable. With his… abrasive personality, most would see his value as merely a brilliant scientist. And while she does appreciate that aspect of Rodney, what she values more is the man she knows is underneath the sandpapery exterior. She's seen him be utterly selfless, putting himself on the line for others as well as herself. Sometimes she wishes he'd expose that facet of his personality more often, but she'll take what she can get… and besides, if he did, he just wouldn't be Rodney, and she's honestly not sure she'd like that as much.
She counts Teyla as a dear friend; one who understands the burdens of leadership and often tries to lighten the load in whatever way she can... even if it's in a small gesture, like bringing a steaming cup of tea to her office in the earlyhours of the morning. There have been many days when the Athosian's calm demeanor and wisdom has restored her sanity, and she's grateful for it.
Even Ronon, though still an enigma, has become a comforting presence for her. She still almost never knows how to properly react to him, but she trusts his counsel and values the unique perspective he offers.
And then there's John Sheppard. When she'd first met him in Antarctica, there had naturally been some small interest on her part. It had been nothing more than a fleeting infatuation; at the time, her heart had been completely devoted to Simon, but she certainly wasn't blind: he is, after all, an attractive man by nearly anyone's standards.
Their personalities clashed almost immediately, or so it seemed. Friendship developed quickly between them, and even though there were bumps along the road, a foundation of trust and respect were firmly laid. Now they complement each other almost perfectly, filling in gaps where one or the other was lacking. They have a sort of simpatico, and she's not sure what she'd do without him anymore.
It scares her a little, because her relationship with John reminds her of pieces of her relationship with Simon… the understanding and companionship and even a fair amount of affection. What scares her even more are the things she feels that were never part of her relationship with Simon: there's a level of comfort with John… not that she wasn't comfortable with Simon, but this is something so much more profound that she never knew was missing and now isn't sure she can be without.
The very fact that she's comparing the expedition's military leader with the man she consideredspending the rest of her life withconcerns her in no small way. Though it's crossed plenty of others, their relationship hasn't crossed that particular line, and she won't allow herself anywhere near it. It's foolish and it's a dangerous liability… but that boyish charm and cocky smile are hard to resist. It makes her wonder, maybe, if they'd met under different circumstances… but somehow she thinks it wouldn't have been the same: they're from different worlds, different backgrounds, different philosophies. But here and now it seems as though time and chance or fate or maybe even a proper alignment of stars and planets has brought them together in this city… her city.
It's not as if it's all she thinks about, as if he's all she thinks about… it's more like the occasional desire for actual paperwork as opposed to electronic… so like the stylus twirling in her fingers fills the need for some sort of manual dexterity, the mission reports in front of her must serve as a bit of a distraction until the next thing comes along that demands all of her attention, not allowing her to dwell on what might or might not have been.