Spoilers for "Michael", "Progeny", and "Submersion".
Author's Note: I had the sudden urge to write something that wasn't shevie, and I was inspired by the following Skillet song to write a little something for my favorite non-OC pairing. Many thanks to Commodore Norrington for betaing. :-D
"I just came to say goodbye, didn't want you to see me cry. I'm fine, but I know it's a lie. 'This is the last night you'll spend alone. Look me in the eyes so I know you know I'm everywhere you want me to be. The last night you'll spend alone. I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go. I'm everything you need me to be.'" - Skillet, "The Last Night"
He shifts in his sleep, accidentally waking her from her light slumber. That's when she realizes that they've done it again. She knows she shouldn't fall asleep in his quarters; it makes for awkward explanations when someone catches her leaving in the morning, even more so if they leave together. She knows by their expressions that the SF -- who always seemed to be outside his quarters when she left -- and Dr. Heightmeyer don't believe her when she says that they spent the night talking.
She doesn't really care; she knows.
She knows that the most forward thing he does is gently kiss her forehead when her day has been absolutely terrible. She doesn't tell the Lieutenant or Kate this, though; they wouldn't believe her, and even if they did, they wouldn't understand.
She's woken up in his bed before, fallen asleep in his arms a few times. But not for the reasons those two would think.
She and he have never done anything to cross the line between friends and lovers, though heaven knows Kavanagh had tattled enough about the little things to make Elizabeth think so. It wasn't a sexual relationship -- not that she was entirely opposed to the idea -- but she knew that what they had now was just as good. Though neither of them would say the words, she had lived long enough to know love when it happened.
She couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happened, though. They'd been friends since the day they met and had always enjoyed doing things together, whether it was sparring, watching one of his "movies", or just talking.
The first time she realized that he cared a lot more than he let on was after the failed experiment on Michael. He found her weeping on one of the city's balconies. With a soft, "There was nothing you could have done," he attempted to give her a comforting hug. She tried to push him back, but he pulled her into his arms anyway and she gave in, letting him hold her as she cried. When she had exhausted herself, she mumbled a "thank you" and got a nod and a sincere, "Anytime…"
The second time, she actually got up enough nerve to go to his quarters. It was night, but she didn't think he would be sleeping yet. Even if he was, she knew he'd be understanding; the Asurans had tortured them both. They knew each other well enough that they didn't have a problem both being on his bed as they talked for nearly two hours. She fell asleep in his arms that night.
There had been several times since then, but they generally tried to stay out of each other's quarters; they didn't need the accusing stares or suspicious whispers.
But tonight, she had come to his quarters. She couldn't sleep again; this time it was the hideous face of the Wraith queen invading her thoughts. The memories of what she had done while under the queen's control had finally come back to her this evening and she felt terrible for what the Wraith had been able to accomplish through her.
He reminded her that it was only with her help that he had been able to bait the queen into disarming the self-destruct. But while she had helped to ensure that they all made it safely back to Atlantis, she knows no amount of her deception can bring back Graydon and Dickenson.
Without thinking, she slams her hand onto the mattress in frustration. When she hears him whisper her name a second later, she realizes she's woken him up. She lifts her head off his chest and sees him looking at her sleepily. "I am sorry," she murmurs, moving to rest her head on her hand.
"You okay?"
She shakes her head. When he leans forward to kiss her forehead, she tilts her head up and catches his lips with her own. The kiss only lasts a few seconds, but in that moment she allows herself to forget everything else but him. When he's the one to pull away, she worries that perhaps she should not have done that. She notices that he looks much more awake than he did a few seconds ago and appears to be trying to process what just happened.
After an awkward two seconds -- which feels more like two hours to her -- he leans over to gently kiss her back. This one is longer, but still as chaste. He breaks the kiss a minute later, and rests his forehead against hers for a moment. Then they share a smile and she shifts so that she can lay her head on him once more.
"You're staying?" he asks, glancing at the glowing numbers on his watch.
"Yes," she answers softly and smiles when she feels him slide his arm around her shoulders.
She doesn't know what to classify their relationship as now. Definitely more than friends, but not quite lovers. She nestles closer against him and sighs contentedly. She isn't sure what to call this, but she hopes -- she prays -- it never goes away.