Summary: After Ronon and Elizabeth have their encounter on the balcony they find themselves unable to stop thinking about each other.
Author's Note: This is the2nd in a series of vignettes/episode tagsthat I have been writing featuring Elizabeth and Ronon & the growing relationship between the twoof them. I like to think that it could be cannon if we were just given a few more minuteshere and there before the end credits rolled.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters are not mine. They are the property of MGM Studios, The Sci Fi Channel, and Acme Shark. This story was created for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement is intended.
Clouds scuttled across the moon, darkening the path Ronon walked as he made his way back to his quarters. As he reached his door and slipped quietly inside he realized that he felt even more restless now than he had when he'd first set out over an hour ago.
Being around her always makes you feel restless.
He gritted his teeth at the thought but he found that he couldn't help replaying their encounter on the balcony in his mind. He hadn't meant to let her know that he was there or know how long he'd been simply standing in the darkness watching her. She'd looked so confused though, so unsettled by everything that had happened and he'd been overwhelmed by the urge to offer her what comfort he could. Touching her had never been part of the plan…even if he had been longing to do that and more since the first time he'd seen her.
It had been a mistake to give in to that kind of temptation.
Shaking his head at his own weakness he began stripping off his clothes, hoping to drown his frustration in the oblivion of sleep, but even as he slid naked beneath his blankets thoughts of Elizabeth Weir continued to plague him. Idly he stroked his beard and the memory of her skin, silken and warm under his fingers, filled his mind. Against his better judgment he found himself wondering if her breasts and the flesh between her thighs would be as soft and damp beneath his touch as her cheek had been. His body responded instantly to his musings and he groaned in frustration.
It had been far too long since he had been with a woman. If his brother, Jarek were still alive he'd say that Ronon should find himself any willing woman and remedy that at the first opportunity, but Jarek wasn't alive… and Elizabeth wasn't just any woman. She was intelligent and strong, but she used that strength to keep people at a distance. He could understand that, he did it himself, but his reticence to get close to people was something he'd learned in order to survive all those years. He wondered what she was running from that had made her set up those walls?
She'll never let you get close enough to find out.
He was beginning to hate the sound of his own thoughts!
Rolling over onto his back he thrust one thick arm beneath his head and closed his eyes, hoping that he wouldn't dream of her again. It was most likely a vain hope but he was getting tired of waking up hard and alone after a night spent dreaming of Elizabeth in his bed. There was no denying that dreaming of making love to her was far more pleasant than the nightmares he had lived with before coming to Atlantis, but waking up from them was just as painful.
He prayed to the Ancestors that his sleep would be dreamless because each new dream of her at night made it that much more difficult for him to keep his distance during the day.
Sleep still eluding her, Elizabeth burrowed deeper into her blankets and let her mind drift, but as her thoughts lingered once more on her conversation with Ronon she realized sleep would not be coming anytime soon.
He was such an enigma. Since his arrival in the city he had kept mostly to himself, interacting with those he had to, but keeping everyone else at a distance. Much of the time she found herself in the second group, having to work hard to get more than two words out of him and wondering if he would ever begin to trust her. Tonight, it seemed he'd taken a few steps in that direction. He'd sought her out, offered her a measure of friendship and even though she still worried that she'd screwed up, Ronon's confidence in her, his support made her feel a bit less unsure of herself.
That wasn't the only thing he made you feel.
She rolled her eyes in the darkness and tried to push the thought away.
When he'd appeared so suddenly she had felt startled but that had lasted only a few seconds. What had replaced it though was the nervousness and discomposure that always seemed to take hold of her when she was alone with him. Being able to relate to and interact easily with strangers whose cultures and ideologies were completely alien to her own was what she'd built her career on, but none of the diplomats she'd met over the years had been Ronon Dex. And none of them had been even half as attractive as him either.
Sighing at her own foolishness she tried not to remember the way his rough fingers had felt gliding so gently over her face or the way he'd said her name. She felt her stomach tighten, felt her face flush a bit at the memory.
He'd never touched her before, never looked at her quite the way he had tonight and it had felt good. She'd felt as if someone were looking after her for a change instead of her always having to look out for everyone else and it had been a long time since anyone had made her feel that way. She didn't try to fool herself into believing that he was attracted to her really, but she couldn't deny that she was finding herself more and more attracted to him. What woman wouldn't? He was tall and mysterious and sexy as hell, but there was also something lost about him, something lonely that made him more than just a handsome face and a well-muscled body.
There were times when she had glimpsed what lay beneath that war-hardened exterior of his. She remembered his face as he had watched the images of Sateda that the MALP had transmitted back to Atlantis. He'd had such hope that his people had survived, that perhaps his world had managed to stave off the waves of Wraith swarming it. It had broken her heart to see that hope die in his eyes when he'd realized that rubble and dust were all that the hive ships had left in their wake. She'd watched him turn away from the screen and walk out of the room, his shoulders stiff and his face impassive. He had dealt with his pain alone, but tonight, he'd helped her deal with hers. She'd never met a man that confused or intrigued her more.
Her eyes were growing heavier, the weight of her exhaustion and her worry dragging her closer to the edge of sleep at last. She felt her muscles relaxing, felt her conscious thoughts seeping slowly into dreams. Her mind still half-awake, she wondered if she would dream about him and as she tugged her blankets closer around her, she found herself hoping that she would.