Chapter 2
He's taken her to a nice, cosy Italian restaurant downtown that sports a terrace in front and since it's early fall and still warm outside they've opted in favor of staying out and enjoying a meal by the lights of the paper lanterns hanging above the small round tables. They fall into comfortable silence while waiting for their expressos and both get lost in their thoughts – both enjoying a meal when there's no sudden emergency relayed on their earpieces, both enjoying each other's presence without having to worry about what everyone thinks. They're strangers here but John finally sees the silver lining. Here they can just be friends. There's no one to set the example for. He smiles at her. "We still have a couple of days to ourselves. Have you planned anything?"
She smiles too. "Are you telling me you're playing it as you go along? A week on Earth once in a blue moon and you don't have plans, Major?" she teases him.
"Told ya' already – bored stiff. Would kill for a good fight with a few nasty aliens," he banters, giving her a toothy smile.
She laughs out loud and shakes her head. "Not even a trip to the library to get something else to read?" she baits him. She knows about his inability to finish the one and only book he brought with him. Not that he's not educated. She suspects he knows much more than he lets on. No, it's just he never seems to have time to himself, working as hard as she does. She does connect to his difficulty in adjusting to the mere idea of having some downtime.
"I already did, actually," he surprises her. "Went to get a few easier novels I know I might be able to finish by the end of this decade." He smirks.
"Let me guess," she teases. "Some sappy romantic story?"
He chuckles. "You know me well, don't you? Seriously, tho', I got a few good adventure ones if you want to borrow them."
She rests her head on her hand and smiles at him mischievously. "You could even start a book club, Major, and become the very first Oprah of the Pegasus galaxy!"
He tucks his tongue at her. "Minx!"
She frowns. "Careful, John! You're addressing your superior, remember!"
He wags his finger at her and smirks irreverently. "Not here, 'Lizabeth, not here! I have a few more hours ahead of me to prove you wrong."
She shakes her head in mock disbelief and turns her attention to the waiter who's setting their expressos in front of them then falls silent again and he sees she's pondering something. He waits patiently until she makes her decision. "John? What are you doing tomorrow around noon?"
He lifts his head and narrows his eyes at her.
He ponders his answer, not wanting to say "nothing" but then again, not wanting to miss an occasion to spend time with her. "I haven't decided yet. Why?"
She takes a deep breath. She might regret this for tons of reasons but still decides to plod on. "My mother has organized a barbecue at her place for people I know – friends of hers, some distant family members, neighbors... Would you like to come?"
He eyes her suspiciously. "BBQ? Or is it more like a garden party?"
She winces. "Let's say it's a little bit of both..." Her voice trails off. He seems to be the kind of man who shuns that kind of gathering – too many people, too many rules. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. It was stupid of me to ask. Forget about it."
He lifts his hand to stop her. "Hush, 'Lizabeth. You asked me and I say yes, as long as I don't have to wear a tie." She shakes her head. "Then, it's settled. I'll be at your place at noon and I promise to behave." He smirks. She mirrors him.
He stands and tells her he'll be right back and goes to pay for their meals. She watches him stroll inside the restaurant and can't help noticing the casual, almost cocky gait that reminds her in a way of General O'Neill's. Those two definitely have a lot in common.
He walks her to her door when they reach her mother's place but declines going inside. "It's late already and tomorrow is another big day, eh? I'll let you rest," he says quietly. He hesitates then bends towards her, giving her time to step back if she thinks he's overstepping the boundaries. She doesn' t budge so he completes the gesture and drops a little kiss on her cheek, almost on the corner of her mouth. It's bold, even for friends, and he's not even sure she might consider him as such. She closes her eyes and he can barely hear her sigh before she opens them and reaches for his cheek, leaving a feather-like caress there then resting her hand on his bicep. "Goodnight, John," she simply says before opening the front door and stepping inside.
"Night," she hears him whisper before she closes the door.
He spends much more time the next morning than he usually does on choosing his clothes. Appearance has always been his father's strong suit, not his, but for her sake, he wants to look the part of the proper friend. He even ponders wearing his dress blues but opts out, thinking it might look show off. He finally decides to text her. "Something casual will be perfect. See you in a bit," she answers. She gathers from his text he's nervous and hopes he won't feel uncomfortable. She chides herself for putting him through it but then again, she's glad he'll be there by her side as she's nervous too. She has tried to bail out on the event but her mother wouldn't hear of it. "I'm doing this for you, sweetie. I'm sure once everyone's arrived, you'll be glad we did it. It's nice to see old friends once in a while. You work too much, my dear. Besides, I don't want you to feel lonely now Simon is not here anymore to welcome you home," her mom points out. She means well but the thought itself stings anyway.
"Mom..." she moans.
Her mother lifts her hand. "I know, dear, it hurts but you need to move on and the best way to do that is to have a social life."
She humors her because she knows how much time she's put into that party and she's done it just to keep her busy and take her mind off the hurt. She just wishes no one will bring up her breakup with Simon, especially in front of John. He doesn't need to know how miserable she is. She tells her mom who agrees she'll steer the conversations away from the subject tho' she can't stop people from talking. "But dear, I understand you do not want to have everyone at work know about it but this young man, this Major Sheppard, he seems to be a good friend of yours – taking you out for shopping and dining..."
"Mom, don't read too much into this. At work, he's my subordinate. He cannot be anything else but a friend, and even that... I'm not sure it isn't against the rules." She winces. It hurts to voice it out but she needs to be realistic. Her mother shakes her head in disappointment but says no more.
She puts on a front as she's so used to doing when on diplomatic missions, being graceful to all the guests she welcomes one by one and directs to the garden where her mother has had the tables set under white pergolas. Deep inside, she can't wait for the day to be over so she can retreat to her room, curl up under her comforter and try to find sleep that won't be ridden with nightmares. She hasn't slept well and has dark circles under her eyes she cannot thoroughly hide. Most of the guests have arrived. Her mother has dragged her out into the garden tho' she protested there were still a few people missing. "I will welcome them, dear. You need to be with your guests, not waiting at the door." So she is standing among them, a glass of ice tea left untouched in her hand. She's trying to follow the conversations but her mind is somewhere else. She feels a hand at the small of her back, a gentle and shy touch. She turns to him and gazes into his mischivous grin.
"Good day to you, ma'am," he says, opting for an almost formal greeting, not knowing how she's going to introduce him. The weight she's felt all morning, ever since she's awaken from her fitful dreams, suddenly lifts. Even on the hardest days they've had on the city, he's always been the only one to have the privilege to brighten her mood.
She turns to him and smiles, breaking the contact of his hand on her back but gives him a loose hug with her free arm. "Good day to you too, Major," she answers with a grin and he gets it that this is going to be the game they'll play for now. She turns to her other guests and introduces him as a colleague. When introductions have been made and a few platitudes have been exchanged, she excuses them from the group and takes him to the bar to offer him a drink. "What's your poison?" he whispers conspiratorially in her ear.
"Ice tea," she challenges him.
He turns to the waiter: "I'll have the same." They stroll together from table to table, talking briefly to people.
"Do you want to see the house?" she offers on a whim.
He nods and she takes his arm, steering him towards the open French windows.
They move around the house in silence, except for her occasional remark about how her mom decorated this or that room or on a few trinkets she's fond of because they belonged to her dad. He just nods and lends a friendly ear, observing her. When they get back downstairs, he steers her towards the couch facing the fireplace and sits in front of her on the coffee table. She's bemused by the look of intent concentration on his face, almost as if he were mad at her. "What?" she finally demands, feeling uncomfortable.
"You're not sleeping, Elizabeth. You should be resting, damn it! God knows you need it more than any one of us!" he says through clenched teeth, surprising her by his sudden anger.
"You're one to talk, John! You pull as many hours as I do," she counters, getting angry at him for voicing it out and probably at herself too, for letting it show.
"But at least, I'm sleeping while on Earth. You're not!" he counters back, his eyes boring into hers.
She falls silent and looks away. He raises his hands to her face and gently brushes the dark circles under her eyes with his thumbs. It's one of too many bold gestures but she doesn't say a thing and remains still. What have they done to her 2IC, she wonders. He would never have been so forward on Atlantis and she would never have allowed for it anyway. But here, everything seems so different, the boundaries so hazy... "Why aren't you cutting yourself some slack, 'Lizabeth? You're not on duty here," he points out more sedately.
She finally locks eyes with him. "Because I can't... Because when I close my eyes, I see them. Every evil thing we encountered, everyone we've lost. I see myself waiting for our teams, for you, to come home safely, hoping, praying nothing bad will happen to you, to any of you. And I wake up every night screaming. And then I can't go back to sleep for hours. And even when I do, the nightmares still come to haunt me..." She's said it in one go, in a whisper, and he's not interrupted her even once, letting her voice out what has been haunting her, that thing he's sure she doesn't even talk about with Dr Heitmeyer. He's humbled that he's been the one whom she's opened up to about her worst fears. He takes her hands in his. "You can't go on like that forever. You're going to get sick. You need to sleep." He's stating the facts and she can't prove him wrong so she just smiles bitterly.
"Well, John, I wouldn't say no to a few good nights' sleep so if you've got a solution, I'm all for it!" she answers more sarcastically than she intended.
"Well, actually, I do," he surprises her. "I'll stay here tonight if you allow me and watch your sleep. If you have nightmares, I'll help you settle them before they disturb your rest."
She looks at him too amazed to say anything. They can't do that. What would the IOA say if they knew he'd spent time with her in the same room. Not that she questions John's intentions. She knows they're purely honorable. "John..." she starts but doesn't know how to let him down easy.
They're interrupted by a soft rap on the French windows opened onto the garden. Her mother is smiling fondly at her. "Sorry to bother you, love," she tells her daughter. "A certain General O'Neill just called. He said Doctor Beckett was trying to locate you. I hope you don't mind. I said it was OK for him to give our home phone number to the doctor so he could contact you..." Her voice trails off, unsure. Her daughter is not really open about her work relations, even John Sheppard, and she hopes she hasn't made a blunder.
John and Elizabeth share a look. Why is General O'Neill himself calling them himself for such petty matters? "Is something wrong with Doctor Beckett, mother?"
"Not at all, my dear, as I gathered. He seems to be in the area, said General O'Neill, and wanted to know if he could drop by."
"Well, it seems the good doctor is already bored of his beloved lochs!" John ironizes, making Elizabeth laugh.
It's later during the afternoon and most of the guests have departed. John finds a moment alone with Laura Weir. He doesn't know how to broach the subject. He knows from experience that in such families, propriety matters more than anything and he doesn't want to shock her, staying overnight without being invited, especially if she realizes he intends to stay in her daughter's room, albeit on a chair. He leaves Elizabeth's side as she walks the last guests to their cars and heads towards the kitchen where Laura is giving instructions to the hired staff. He leans his shoulder against the door and waits for the right time to get her attention. She turns to him and smiles. "Well, John, it wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" she teases him. She has nailed him all right, knowing he's not the type to appreciate that kind of gathering. She knows by instinct that he must come from a well-educated family but doesn't prod tho' she can't help the teasing.
He smirks. "You're right. It was a pretty good day," he simply acknowledges.
"You want to tell me about something, don't you?"
He nods. "Yes, ma'am. It's about your daughter." She nods too and waits for him to elaborate. He sighs, not knowing how to put it and decides there are no two ways to do this. Elizabeth might come back any minute. "Have you noticed she is sleep-deprived?" he asks shyly. He doesn't want to sound as if he might accuse her of not knowing.
She tilts her head. "Are you talking about her nightmares, John? Because I'm very well aware of them, Major. She's had plenty of those ever since she got here and before you mention it, yes, I can see she doesn't sleep a lot." She regards him silently for a few seconds then goes on, her eyes trained on him: "I have tried every single trick I know to get her to sleep but she's a grown woman, not a child anymore. She refuses to see a doctor or even talk to me about it. She said she has strong medication she refuses to take because it gets worse when she does. I don't have a solution. Do you, Major?"
The question is blunt but it's the opportunity he's waiting for. "I'm not sure, ma'am, but I'd like you to allow me to at least try..." She motions for him to go on when he hesitates. "May I stay with her tonight. Not what you think," he adds hurriedly and she chuckles at his unease, having sized up the kind of man he is. "I'd like to stay by her side. I'll sit next to her and if she so much as stirs, I'll help her try and get rid of her nightmare." Here, he's said it, it's up to her to decide now. It's her house and he doesn't feel comfortable forcing it on her, even if it's for Elizabeth's own good.
"You know what's in her nightmares, don't you?" she states. He nods. "She doesn't want to tell me about it. Says it's classified. I understand. But if it's something you're familiar with, maybe you'll be able to help her."
"Who's going to help whom?" Elizabeth inquires as she enters the kitchen, a tray in her hands.
"John is staying here tonight, dear," her mother states coolly, taking the tray from her and setting it on the island top.
The doorbell chimes and her mother leaves them in the kitchen to answer it, wondering aloud who might be coming at this time of day.
Elizabeth uses that alone moment to hiss at him: "You talked my mother into this? How did you do that?"
"I just came clean about my intentions," he says, a look of absolute innocence on his face. She lifts an eyebrow at him but is interrupted by her mother's return with a very unexpected guest.
"Carson! What are you doing here?" John exclaims, shaking hands with the doctor and slapping him affectionately on the shoulder.
Elizabeth narrows her eyes at the three of them. "Mother, what's going on here?" she demands curtly. She's had plenty of very unpleasant remarks by quite a few acquaintances today about her seemingly exhausted state. A visit by the good doctor, especially when they're all supposed to be on down time, is not a good sign.
"Doctor Beckett had an early flight to join you all tomorrow for the reunion you have in the morning as I gathered," she replies calmly, looking towards Beckett for confirmation.
He nods and turns to Elizabeth with a wide smile. "It was either coming in very early or being really late for the meeting so I prefered to be on the safe side. I thought I might drop by to see if everything was alright but I was heading to my hotel and your mother kindly offered to accommodate me for the night, which is awfully nice of her," he adds, turning to Laura and squeezing her hand.
She looks at each of them, bemused. Something is obviously off but she can't put her finger to it. "And you're absolutely not here to keep on eye on me or anything, Carson?" she prods, anger suddenly flaring.
He laughs at the notion. "Now, Elizabeth, relax! I'm officially on vacation until tomorrow morning. If there's one thing I intend to do it is precisely nothing!"
She sighs, relieved. "Well, good! 'Cuz I intend to do nothing either!"
TBC
