Title: Paper Moon

Author: Amaunetx

Spoilers: Trinity

Rating: T, just in case.

Disclaimer: Atlantis is not mine, but the saying that the title comes out that is found below is mine, and I'd not be too happy at all if you took it.

Summary: "…and hung a paper one…" Elizabeth mulls over Rodney and has thoughts. - Angst-y, pointless mullings and ideas, Post Trinity -

AN: Rumors of my demise have been false. I live. Barely.

Because he failed to reach the moon, he made and hung a paper one, and to her, it shone the brightest of them all.

She had wanted to tell him that she told him so. She did, in fact, twice. And, to his credit, he took it with grace and dignity, but nothing near quiet. They had yelled at each other, pointing out why it was wrong, and why it was good all the same. But they had yelled at each other, and Teyla, later, asked if she was alright.

Telya, who was returning from her mission, heard them they were so loud. And that made herself feel sick. She didn't want to yell at him, and she never wanted him to yell at her, because now she felt guilty, horrid, and rotten. His apology didn't help, either. It was so sincere, so humble and un-McKay like that she wanted to wake up from a bad dream and pretend that the past few days had never happened.

But they did, and now Elizabeth Weir was struck by McKay. He wanted to be trusted by her again, he longed for it. He told her as such. She told him that he had far to go, if he wanted her trust for any of his plans, if it didn't involve saving Atlantis.

But now she wanted something to happen to Atlantis so he could prove himself to her, so he could get back to his cocky old self, the vibrant, cranky, and some how loveable self.

She mentally gave herself a smack. Loveable? Rodney Mckay was anything but loveable, but somehow she couldn't get that idea out of her head. So she was stuck with a loveable Rodney Mckay being humble inside her head. Damnit, couldn't something bad happen so she could get rid of the image?

But then again, one should always be careful about what one wishes for.

AN: Random, short, but I live. And the ending is 'orrid, I know.