Title: Letters from Milky Way (Part 1 of ?)
Author: La
Rating: Teen, I guess, just 'cause I think some words might work their way into it in later chaptersPairing: John/Elizabeth friendship at first, maybe more eventually
Summary: When mail finally comes to Atlantis, it's a good day for almost everyone. But John Sheppard buries himself in administrative work, and Elizabeth wants to know why.
Spoilers: Only vaguely for Intruder, and some second season general ones. Oh, and there's mention of a character from my fic "What's in a Name?" although I think he'll be explained further on in this one, so you really don't have to read it first.
Author's Note: Unlike my other fics, I don't really have this one all planned out or mostly written, although I do have a general idea of where I'm heading with it. So, we'll just see what happens. :) Constructive criticism and feedback are appreciated, as always.

Many thanks to Melyanna for coming up with the title and helping me with the summary.

Elizabeth ran her thumb along the edges of the envelopes, tapping the rubber banded bundle of letters against her palm. Mail came rarely to Atlantis, arriving on no set schedule on the Daedalus, so when it did come she tried to savor it. With a stack of letters this thick, she figured she should be able to draw out reading them for at least a month.

Of course, all the Atlantis personnel had authorized the SGC to open any mail they might receive, if only so that during their scheduled check-ins they could be apprised of any pressing matters. But the majority of these briefings were taken up with bureaucratic matters, so anything less than urgent was put off until the Daedalus could bring the mail bags.

Elizabeth set the letters on her desk, and stared at them for a moment. She'd already glanced through the return addresses and seen one from her brother, and it was tempting, so tempting, to put off finishing her report and just open the letter. No one would blame her; all of the Atlantis personnel had dropped their earlier activities to focus on the mail.

Well, nearly all. John hadn't even shown up for the mail distribution, which was just as well, Elizabeth decided. There had been no mail for him, and his presence would have only drawn attention to that fact.

He'd never had mail, and while he tended to dismiss this as unimportant, Elizabeth couldn't help but worry that he was only hiding his hurt. She stole a glance at her own letters, feeling guilty that she had something exciting to look forward to while John might be struggling with disappointment and anger. Making a decision, she closed her computer, report unfinished, and, leaving the packet of letters on her desk, she headed out of her office.
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John briefly pressed a hand over his eyes before glancing down once more at the sheet he was holding. He could have had someone else do the manual inventory of the armory – heck, he probably should have if only because he still had a mountain of paperwork to go through – but after the third person had come bounding into his office, asking for a little free time to read through the mail, John had needed an escape. And the SGC required bimonthly manual inventories anyway, so at least he was accomplishing something.

He just hadn't realized how absolutely boring it would be. Look at the list. P-90? Count them. Make tally marks. Discover that you can't tell if that's a smudge on the paper or a tally mark. Count them again. Move to the next item on the list. It was so mind numbingly boring that he couldn't help but think about other things.

And thinking was the last thing he wanted to do.

The first time the mail had arrived, John had stood with the rest of the senior personnel as Elizabeth handed out bundles. He hadn't been expecting anything, and wasn't particularly disappointed when his name wasn't called. Elizabeth had been worried, he knew, but he'd assured her that it wasn't important.

After all, he'd sent the letter while they were on Earth, and there was no way a reply could have been sent in time to arrive, make it through screening, and be placed with the bundles for the Daedalus before they left.

The next mail delivery he'd been somewhat hopeful, but he'd kept his mask in place, so no one noticed his disappointment when there was no letter for him. Although... Elizabeth had kept a rather close watch on him for the next few days, so perhaps he hadn't been as successful as he'd thought.

This time he hadn't even bothered to go, knowing that if there were anything for him someone would come find him. But the only visitors he'd had were overly exuberant 25 year olds, ecstatic to hear from their families.

He heard a crinkle, and realized he was crushing the inventory list. He loosened his grip, smoothing the paper against the wall. Sighing, he tried to turn his attention to something else, but his mind wouldn't cooperate.

Why hadn't they replied? He'd sent the letter to his sister, figuring she at least wouldn't burn it on sight, and asked her to forward it on to their father. The letter had contained detailed instructions for contacting him. So why hadn't his father replied? Even if he had refused to read the letter, John had at least expected Kathy to send something.

Slamming his fist against the wall, John took a deep breath and tried to focus once again on the inventory.

He'd hoped this time would be different, that his father –

"John?"

His head snapped up at Elizabeth's voice, and he quickly composed his features. "In here!" he called.

She smiled as she rounded a shelf and stopped in front of him. "There you are. Lieutenant Goldman told me you'd skipped out of your office. Paperwork too boring?"

John grinned and snapped the list he had in his hand. "I'm not cut out for being chained to a desk," he replied. "Thought doing the manual inventory would be more interesting."

"And is it?" she asked, though her tone implied she already knew the answer.

"It's the most boring thing I've ever done," he said matter-of-factly.

"I see." Her amusement was evident. "Well, since no one else seems to be getting any work done, I thought I'd come see if I could tempt you into a cup of coffee with me in the mess."

John had her by the arm and was steering her out of the armory before she had finished speaking. "Just let me drop this off at my office first."

The sound of her laughter helped chase away, at least for the moment, the bitterness he was feeling.
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As Elizabeth headed back to her office, the smile she'd worn for the last hour dropped away, replaced by a thoughtful frown.

John had been upset by something, she knew that. And she was nearly positive it had to do with the arrival of the mail, despite his earlier comments about not expecting anything. But she hadn't known how to broach the subject.

Despite the friendship that had grown between them, much of John was still a mystery to her. He rarely talked about his past – although, to be fair, neither did she. But somehow he'd drawn out a few stories of her childhood with her brothers, while she knew nothing about him beyond his military record.

No, that wasn't true. She knew plenty about John – that he was loyal and strong and intelligent and thoughtful (in strange, roundabout ways sometimes, but thoughtful all the same) and that he didn't value himself nearly as highly as he should – but she knew nothing about his life before the military, and only a thumbnail sketch of his life with the military prior to the Atlantis expedition.

She was sure that his current frustration and disappointment had something to do with his past. But how to approach the subject when John had given no indications that he wanted her to know, and when he might resent her prying would require a great deal more thought than she'd given it so far.

And she valued their friendship too much to risk it without carefully thinking things through first.

Reaching her office, she dropped into her desk chair with a sigh. Putting off her worries for the moment, she decided she needed something cheerful to do for a while. Ignoring the paperwork that waited for her, she pulled her brother's letter out of the stack and slit the envelope. A folded newspaper article fell out, but she put it aside for the moment.

Dear Lizzy,

Yes, I know you hate it when I call you that. But I'm miles and miles away from wherever you are, so there's nothing you can do about it.

I know you can't tell me where you are, but it must be pretty primitive if you can't even get on a phone and call us. I just hope this letter arrives. Seems strange to send it to Colorado when I know you're probably halfway around the planet, but I guess distribution centers can be anywhere. /pre

Elizabeth had to smile a bit at that. Try halfway around the universe, Tom, she thought.


Things have been going well here. My firm just got a contract for a new office building downtown, so I've been pulling some late nights at the office. But that should be over shortly when I shove some of the work off on the other partners.

Emily got stuck teaching freshmen English this year, so we've all been hearing about split infinitives and comma splices at the dinner table. I think the girls have decided that a comma splice is some kind of giant lizard monster that eats... well, I don't know what it eats, but they've both had nightmares about it the last two nights, so I think Emily's going to cut back on the ranting.

The girls are both fine. Jennifer started first grade last week, and she absolutely adores her teacher. Claire's in kindergarten – and I have to say that I'm glad the school system here went to all day kindergarten, because with both Emily and me working it helps to have the girls in school all day.

Mom and Dad are fine, too, and David wanted me to tell you that he's still raising hell in Arizona. They all say to send you their love, and Jennifer wanted me to add that she still sleeps with that stuffed dolphin you gave her two Christmases ago.

Now, Lizzy, I have some bad news. I saw in the paper last week that Dr. Roth died. I cut it out for you and sent it with the letter. It says he'd been sick for a while. I know how important he was to you, and I thought you'd want to know. Emily and I took the liberty of sending a little something in your name – you can see they wanted donations for a relief organization. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I thought you'd want to know.

I miss you, and I hope we get to see you again soon.

Love,

Tom

Elizabeth brought a hand to her mouth as she put the letter down on her desk and reached for the article. It reiterated what Tom had written. Albert Roth had passed away in his sleep after a lingering illness. She wasn't terribly surprised – he'd been elderly when he was her thesis adviser more than fifteen years ago – but it didn't make it hurt less.

Dropping the article beside the letter, she stood up and walked to a shelf on the wall. She pulled a book off it and opened it to the flyleaf and Dr. Roth's inscription to her.

She sat on the couch and stared at it, eyes so glassy with tears that she couldn't make out the words.

And when John entered her office, having completely given up on work for the day, that was how he found her.