Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the computer I wrote this little piece on. If the rightful owners of the characters and stories are offended, I'll gladly take it down.
Spoilers: The Eye (Atlantis112)
After the Storm
by Hatcheter
"Dr. Weir?"
Elizabeth started as Major Sheppard's voice broke the calm of the empty control center.
"Has the storm passed?" he asked, joining her where she stood just inside the open balcony door. The rain fell lightly, driven by a gentle wind. Distant lighting flashed sporadically on the horizon.
Elizabeth shrugged. "It started to die down about fifteen minutes ago."
Sheppard examined her out of the corner of his eye as she continued to stare straight ahead. She was slouched against the doorframe, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her eyes were distant, tired. She wasn't watching the storm recede.
"How long have you been standing here?" he asked.
"About an hour," she dully answered.
Sheppard frowned at her. "You're getting wet, Doctor Weir. Come on." Gently taking her arm, he tugged her away from the door.
Elizabeth looked down, noticing for the first time that her pants were soaked from the knees down. Her shoes squished as she walked, squeezing water out of her socks with each step.
"Where is everyone else?" she asked.
"Ford and McKay took Doctor Beckett up to the jumper bay," the Major explained. "The doctor's got a nasty bump on his head, and the Jumpers have the only medical supplies we can get to until the lightning stops. Teyla's there as well, so she and those Athosian kids can guard her prisoner."
"We'll have to do something with her," Weir said.
"We've got holding cells. And," he added dryly, "We won't have problems feeding this prisoner."
Sheppard guided Elizabeth down the main stairs, still holding onto her arm. Ignoring the dead Genii in front of the Stargate, he turned the woman toward a side corridor. There were several small, decently furnished rooms off of the main corridor, which they had assumed were receiving rooms for travelers. Some were now used for storage; others were for the gate room guards.
He took her into one of the latter, guiding her to a long couch. After she sat down, he turned to the trunk in the corner of the room.
"You shot him."
Sheppard pulled a pillow and blanket out of the trunk and turned back to Elizabeth. "He would have taken you through the gate."
"So you killed him."
He knelt on the floor in front of Elizabeth. Reaching out, he lifted up one of her feet and set it on his lap. "I killed a lot of people today," he said softly as he began to untie her shoelace.
Elizabeth snorted bitterly. "So, what, you want a medal?"
John's fingers briefly faltered. Shaking his head, he pulled off her shoe, then her sock. "No." Setting her bare foot on the floor, he picked up the other one and started the process over.
"No medals, no commendations, no praise filled after action reports." Rising, he turned and set the shoes and socks on the trunk, spreading them out so they could dry. "Everyone's still here."
"You could have hit me," she whispered.
Sighing, he turned back, looking firmly into her tired eyes. "I wouldn't have fired if there was a chance of that."
"How could you be certain that…"
John sat down heavily, bouncing Elizabeth and effectively silencing her. "You're not very familiar with guns, are you?"
She shook her head. "I hate the things."
"Well, I think you need to learn how to use one. Just in case you need to defend yourself."
She frowned. "I don't know about that."
"If McKay can learn, anybody can."
"Rodney's a genius," she said.
John smiled. "Yes, he keeps reminding me about that. But then again, when it comes to stripping and cleaning his weapons he's all thumbs."
Elizabeth smiled as well, slouching back on the couch. She suddenly sat upright, looking around alertly. "If the storm has passed, Rodney can disable the shield generators. We should recall our people and-"
John put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back down on the couch as she tried to stand. "Relax," he said, gently pushing her toward her pillow. "It's still the middle of the night on Manera, too. We've got six hours until dawn; we can call them home then."
"What about-" she began.
"I'll look after things," he assured her.
Willing the lights off, he stood and unfolded the blanket. "You'll be okay, Elizabeth," John promised, smiling gently as he tucked her in.
She pulled the blanket close to her body, shivering when she realized just how cold she was.
And she smiled back, because she believed him.
Author's notes: I was inspired to write this after seeing "The Eye". It feels like a good way to stick a toe into SG fan fiction.
I love the mix of shock and honesty Weir's voice when she says "no", and Sheppard's confident "you will be". While all the Shep/Weir shippers see a lot in that, I think it's a good moment of honesty between two leaders who have come to trust and rely on each other.
I'm personally not sold on the Shep/Weir idea, or any other ship in Atlantis. That idea has growing on me, though.
Though it's not my intent with this piece, I won't be offended if people see this as 'pre-ship'. :)
So please, drop me a review at , or wherever you happen to read this.