Title: Little Moments
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The seige (ish)
Summary: Elizabeth thinks over her relationship with John
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters don't belong to me. Nope. And I get no money. None whatsoever.
The waves crashed against the lower levels sending spumes of spray against the higher windows.
Dr. Elizabeth Weir stood on her balcony (it was always her balcony, only one other came out there) and gazed at the dark grey storm clouds building in the sky. The sea spray had dampened her uniform, and she could feel the water on her face. Her hair was probably gone curlier than ever.
She worried about possible damage, that maybe there would be a leak in the lower levels in the other side of the city, or that there would be a power failure. All the mechanical things that could go wrong.
She refused to think about the other problem, the none mechanics. Or, more accurately, the mechanics of the heart.
Sure, she should have noticed sooner; the tell-tale signs, the chemistry. The way they were a solid team. They could predict each others moves without a look.
It would lead to trouble, she knew it. And it could lead to trouble on the missions.
Would Teyla have been able to let him go to his death? It had been the only solution, true, but the look in Johns face when she had agreed had broken her heart. It was a split second and was quickly shuttered, but there had been a flash of…disappointment in his blue eyes.
Elizabeth was the leader. It didn't just mean she gave the orders, it was a way of being. She could show no weakness, no emotion. She was supposed to be the steadying force of the crew.
But is was so hard when he was around.
His crooked devilish grin, his big puppy dog eyes, the way his hair stuck up around his head. All that tangled in her mind, confusing and bemusing her.
He was exactly her opposite. He acted on the spur of the moment, he wore his heart on his sleeves, and he flagrantly disobeyed orders.
But he did it all with his infuriating, charming, grin and she had to force herself to get angry. Or at least chide him.
She had to be cool, she just had to be. She was a diplomat and had to have utter control at all times.
But the more time she spent with him, the more her control wavered and almost disappeared.
When she had seen him back, safe and sound she had thrown herself into his arms. He was surprised and a bit awkward at first, but then he loosened up and hugged her back.
Little moments. She held on to those little moments; their exchanged glances, how they always found each other standing close together, slight touches, the times he was protective of her…all those things she kept nestled to her heart.
She had known it could never be.
The door slid open, sending a blast of warm air around her knees. She didn't need to turn around to know who was there.
John leaned on the rail and stared out to sea.
"Thinking?" he said casually.
"Mmm hmm." She refused to look at him.
He sighed and turned to her.
"How long-"
"John you know-"
"I know."
"And I can't-"
"I know." He grinned his infuriating grin. She couldn't decide whether to hit or kiss him.
"For once," he said gently, "Just let it go."
She turned to face him. His grin was still there, but his eyes… could they be nervous?
John spoke first. "New world, new rules."
He slid his hand along her cold cheek and captured her lips. Tentatively. Softly.
It was those little moments that kept her going.