Disclaimers: I do not own these characters; this is written for fun, I make no money etc.
Spoilers: Set early in season 1
Pairing: McKay/Weir
Beta: Thanks indeed to LittleKnux2008 for the brave beta in face of horrific mush : )
A/N: Ridiculous, silly, fluffy story. So it could never happen – do I look like I care? Although, I cannot believe I've actually written this.
Summary: McWeir, very soppy. Rodney discovers what Elizabeth's personal item is, and Elizabeth wants to know something about Rodney…
It was important. He knew she would want to know, and besides, it wasn't too late in the evening. He was a little nervous about going to her quarters, but he doubted she would really mind. At her door, McKay realised he needed to add 'doorbells' to his list of things to rig. They just hadn't figured a cool way to alert the occupant of an arrival yet.
"Elizabeth!" he yelled, rapping his knuckles sharply on the door. He stood, listening.
"Come on through, Rodney…I'm on the balcony!" he heard her muffled voice.
He let himself in, and tried not to peer nosily at her room and its contents. He made his way to the open glass doors that led outside. A touch of envy at her privileged residence crossed his mind.
"I brought the…" as his foot crossed the threshold, what McKay saw rendered him completely dumbstruck, and his trailing leg froze behind him.
Elizabeth Weir was dressed in what could only be described as ballet exercise attire. Yes, a red uniform t-shirt was belted over her leotard, but aside from that, she was almost unrecognisable to McKay. He gawped at her…legs, all legs. She had one hand holding the balcony railing for balance, while her satin-shoed feet were arranged in a tightly crossed stance.
McKay had gone into shock at the scene before him. He thought she was a vision of grace and poise - in a mature way, his mind qualified.
"Sorry, Rodney, I should have warned you. You don't mind do you? I'm just finishing up. Please go on…"
McKay snapped back from his trance, and fussed with the data pad in his hand. "The, er, the, er, desalination analysis, it's…em… completely within limits, we're, uh, happy…" his voice trailed off as he watched Elizabeth sweep one leg up in front of her, pass it in a low arc until it was behind, and then proceed to lean forward into a modest but beautiful arabesque.
His distraction reached her. She laughed lightly as she relaxed down and walked towards him, "That's great, Rodney. Thanks. One less thing to worry about." She shook her wrists out and waggled her ankles one at a time, and caught him still gawping.
"Personal item, Rodney. My ballet pointes. Couldn't come without them," she explained. She placed one shoe on its flat, hard toe to demonstrate.
He flustered, "Sorry, I don't mean to stare or be rude or anything, but it's just… I never…that is…" McKay's face had lost the total shock and taken on the very uncomfortable.
Elizabeth smiled at him, "Well, now you know. It's just my way of relaxing. I never could stand all those team games." She sat on the nearby chair, and began to untie the silk ribbons of her shoes. She looked up at him, he felt as if in expectation.
"Yeah, me neither…well, I guess that's it. I'd better go…" he turned and made to step over the sill.
Stocking-soled, she leapt up lightly and grabbed his arm, "Wait a minute, Rodney. Don't tell me you don't dance. I can tell!" she paused, thinking, "Even your hands dance! Come on, what's your bag?" Through narrowed eyes, she peered at him with a sly smile.
The thought of it surprised him. It had been so long. He came back onto the balcony, pulled by her two hands on his. He kept his eyes on the ground.
"I don't really…not anymore."
She squeezed his hands, "Don't give me that. You bounce! Now let's see, I don't think it's anything Latin…Please, put me out of my misery!" She pleaded, and he met her eyes as she leaned in. There was no mock, only a spark of interest and intrigue.
He considered his response for a moment. "Fine. I used to Lindy Hop. OK?" He wanted to pull his hands away, but…
Elizabeth's eyes lit up. "Really! That's amazing! I mean, you just wouldn't think…it's quite a…happy dance, isn't it?"
He could tell she hadn't really meant it to sound quite as it did, but there was no other way to express what was an obvious incongruity.
"Mm. Yes. It is. And I was...in my own way. You know, it's not completely alien to me. In fact, until we got here, and found life-sucking aliens around every corner, I was doing very nicely thank you!"
His pout was smoothed away by Elizabeth's hand on his cheek.
"Show me, Rodney. Let's hop…"
His eyes widened, "You have got to be kidding me! This is not the time!"
"Why not? You never forget. I can keep up, I promise! As long as you lead well…"
She inserted herself into his arms in a waltz-like grasp, and raised an eyebrow at him.
He rolled his eyes and threw back his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this! OK, you win, and I can lead very well, thank you. It's just…we need a little music…"
He closed his eyes. She searched his face. She could feel the heat of their close bodies chasing away the cool evening air.
He began to croon softly, a familiar big band tune from the 1940's that she knew well. His voice was thin and self-conscious at first.
"Don't sit under the apple tree…"They began to bounce lightly together, held tightly at first, then apart, loose-limbed, while Rodney's voice grew in depth and confidence.
Their arms waved freely as he guided her in a series of simple whips and turns, her expression was one of pure pleasure.
As McKay sang on, he found he was actually beginning to relax and enjoy this. They moved fluidly and jauntily. He hesitated for a fraction as he realised that Elizabeth was taking over the lyrics.
As she sang, they once more held each other tightly, and they sprang the steps on the spot, her eyes wide in delight.
They sang together, as he let Elizabeth swing out. Hearts racing and breathing fast, they kicked and whirled, until, with a shared knowing glance, McKay invited her to him, and gathered her up in a lift. Elizabeth had her knees together, and she balanced sideways against his chest. They grinned, holding each other.
"Wow. That was…unexpected!" Elizabeth admitted.
He was flushed, "I'd no idea I could still do that. And it's not the first time you've done that!" He let her down to the floor gently, but they remained in each other's arms.
"Being a diplomat, and brought up to be one, involves being able to perform in all circumstances, " she explained. "But I don't know how you came to be so expert…"
"The only way I really spent time with my sister," he replied wistfully, then his expression darkened, "and then my neighbour made me for a while…"
Elizabeth gently rubbed her hand over the small of his back.
Her eyes sought something between them. Rodney chewed on his lower lip. She could feel him tensing, wanting to run.
"Rodney, let's do this again sometime," she spoke softly, their faces close, closer…
"I don't know… it's…I can't," he whispered.
He was out of his depth and she could sense it. And herself? Where had these feelings come from? Just a mutual vision, a shared goal and a mission to another galaxy. And now they were here, but at what price? Was he right, now was not the time…but when would be?
"Rodney, I just…need to say…"
His finger on her lips silenced her. "Ssshh. Don't say any more."
"But…"
"No. Don't say it," he was insistent. "It's better this way…"
He leaned forward and kissed her gently. Their lips locked in a timeless seal, and then he carefully released himself, and stepped backwards over the balcony threshold.
"We'll dance again, I promise," he gave her a small smile.
She hugged her arms around herself as she heard the soft whoosh of the doors opening, followed by the rhythmical closing counterpoint.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Anti-sickness tablets are available free of charge from the Information Desk on Deck Six. We hope you have a pleasant cruise.