Title: Similarities

Genre: Television

Series: Stargate Atlantis

Characters: Ronon Dex, Elizabeth Weir

Spoilers: Up to episode 3x04: Sateda

Rating: PG

Summary: After the events of Sateda, Ronon returns to Atlantis and finds himself confessing things to someone unexpected.

A/N: Written for my friend Marianne H. Stillie, because now SHE OWES ME. Here is your fluff, darlin'.

"How do you feel?"

Ronon stared out into the horizon, the dark of the ocean blending with the dark of the sky until it seemed the two of them were almost inseparable. The darkness reflected his mood incredibly well.

He didn't answer her question and knew that she hadn't expected him to. She waited only a second before speaking again.

"I've heard the reports from John and Teyla, but I'd be interested in hearing what you have to say."

They all wanted to know what was on his mind. What he was thinking about being back in the destroyed remnants of his civilization, and why he didn't want to talk about it, and quite frankly he was a little tired of them asking.

"I'm fine."

Elizabeth was surprised by the sound of his voice. She'd fully expected this to be a one-sided conversation, with all the dialogue, or in this case monologue, coming from her. The fact that he turned from the view and stared at her as he said this was shocking.

They were by no means friends, but mutual respect kept things cordial between them. If his friends John and Teyla hadn't been able to get him to speak, how was she supposed to expect that he would speak to her?

She pursed her lips, trying to think of what else to say to him. She could only imagine what he was going through, and what she imagined was probably not as bad as what he was feeling. The mile-wide maternal streak that made her such a great leader made her want to comfort him, but for the first time she wasn't sure how.

"I had a wife."

Elizabeth's eyes sharpened as she glanced at him. "Had?"

"She died when the Wraith attacked," he explained, his dark eyes hooded with some unclear emotion as he leaned against the rail and studied her face.

Elizabeth stepped closer, to him and to the railing, and placed her hands on the cool wall. Her face and body suddenly felt heated, a flush blossoming across her cheeks as she looked away from his too intimate eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, ducking her head so that he couldn't see her face.

His fingers caressed her cheek, brushing down to cradle her chin and raise her face so that he could stare into her eyes. "It made me realize something."

"What?" Her question was soft and barely heard over the whistle of the wind.

"Something about you, the way you move, the way you smile, it reminds me of her. Of the way I felt about her."

His face was coming closer, his lips parting as he spoke and his breath brushing across her cheek warmly. Elizabeth was surprised by the way this conversation had turned, but she wasn't altogether disappointed. She'd by lying if she said that Ronon hadn't always intrigued her.

She placed her hand against his chest, refusing to allow him closer. "What are you doing?"

"Something I've wanted to do since the first time I saw you," he replied, his eyes glazing over as he gazed at her with what can only be called lust.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and realized that she want panting lightly from his proximity. "I don't want you to kiss me because I remind you of your...wife."

He smiled and stepped even closer, his much larger body flush with hers. "I'm not kissing you because you remind me of Melena. I'm going to kiss you because you make me forget how much it hurts."

His lips were thin, but soft as he brushed them across her more lush ones. His eyes closed and the wind tossed her hair against his face, cool silk sliding against his stubble in an interesting contrast of sensation. His fingers tangled in the curls, pulling them back as he again brushed his lips across hers.

Elizabeth's eyes drifted closed as Ronon's eyes opened. He smiled at the look on her face and moved to take a step back, his melancholy over the events on his home world long dissipated.

Her hands clutched his leather vest as she jerked him to a stop. Her eyes opened, blue and wide and glittering in the minimal light. "Again," she demanded as she stared at him avidly.

He obliged her, his mouth crushing hers in sudden passion. Her long fingers drifted up to wrap around his neck, their bodies wrapping around each other tightly. Neither cared that anyone walking past the balcony could see them clearly, or that those that did were shocked beyond speech.

It was just the beginning.