John discovered that Elizabeth really liked pizza. He discovered that she could eat an entire meat lover's pizza and drink half a bottle of wine in one sitting. And not even be ashamed about it.
He discovered this in her quarters, which were very messy. She could be a messy person. She owned more clothes than she had ever worn, and most of them were strewn across her floor.
He discovered this after they had come back from Earth together, with a bounty of wine and pizza, amongst other indulgences, that they conspired to hoard and hand out very sparingly to very selective people. He discovered that most of the sparkling wine had already disappeared from the stash by the time they made it back to Atlantis.
He discovered that Elizabeth wearing her hair up made him ache in a new way. She met him at her door and she had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and put her hair in a high ponytail that almost looked...spunky. Some of the short hairs in the back had come loose and her face was framed with baby curls and it made her eyes look brighter and her cheekbones look higher. She had washed off all of her makeup, and her slightly red cheeks and the wrinkles in her shirt folding against her slim torso were sexy as hell.
"Are you coming in or not?"
He discovered that she liked to talk about her personal life, as long as it wasn't too personal. She told him she broke up with her first serious boyfriend over the phone, while she was drinking alone in her dorm room as an exchange student in Austria, because his favorite novel was The Catcher in the Rye. It had been some kind of epiphany. That also explained why she said "Prost" every time they clinked their metal cups together.
He discovered that he could be satisfied with the little kisses they sneaked sometimes and that they didn't even need to touch, she just had to look at him a certain way, to make everything warm and fuzzy for a moment.
He discovered that friendship was what they both needed. That the little touches, the light kisses, the shoulder massages, created the want and need for more, little by little, without stripping away the mystery. That the tension held more electricity than letting go would. That inhibition was excitement.
He unfolded his time with her like he had unwrapped his birthday presents hidden in the closet when he was a kid, peeling the paper away centimeter by centimeter but still wanting the surprise at the end, still wanting to have a birthday, just wanting to get an idea of what was in the box.
He discovered that there was always more to discover about Elizabeth.
He liked the hunger.
Elizabeth discovered that John really liked to shower. He showered before and after every off-world mission. He always smelled like aftershave, which kind of taunted her, because he never looked or felt like he had shaved recently.
She discovered that droplets of water clinging to his chest hair when he wore a low-collared shirt made her lick her lips in a certain way.
She discovered that she had a visceral reaction whenever John's life was in danger, like someone had kicked her in the gut. After Rodney had said, "You let John fly that jumper?" for that stupid suicide run, she had almost thrown up, literally, and spent about ten minutes just trying to focus on not getting sick, or passing out, in front of everyone. Every time he came back through the gate, she nearly tripped over herself running to greet him. She discovered that John Sheppard was basically her high school crush, amped up to an absurd level.
She discovered that he could draw quite well. She caught him doodling on the back of used printer paper. She would find drawings of jumper prototypes, or sketches of new kinds of weapons, and sometimes, she found drawings of a dog that looked suspiciously like hers. She discovered that he left the pictures accidentally-on-purpose where she could find them.
She discovered that every time he laughed - a real laugh, not a snide I-told-you-so laugh - part of her melted.
She decided to relax sometimes, because he did. If John could watch football and read the same chapter of a book six times and do something really crazy like go to bed before three in the morning, she could too. She discovered that she didn't always have to be "on" around him, but he made her feel more confident in her supernatural ability to pop every popcorn kernel in the bag without burning any than she had ever felt trying to negotiate a treaty.
She discovered that her head fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder and that he fit perfectly on the half of her bed she never slept on. But he never stayed the night.
She discovered that the look he gave her when she let herself kiss him meant, "Should we go further?"
And she discovered that the look she gave him back, which meant "No," had turned into a look that meant something closer to "Maybe...eventually."
She liked that eventually would always be one day closer.
Just not today.