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Chapter 11:

Looking out of the front window, Elizabeth sighed as the taxi rolled to a stop in front of her mother's house. Inside that car was a man who had caused her more grief, more annoyance, more heartache, more laughter and more happiness than any other man in her life. Would everything have been different if he'd never sat in that chair? If she'd never disregarded his record and asked him to join her on the journey of a lifetime? She looked at him as he got out of the car, surveying his surroundings; she really looked at him. Elizabeth had never liked bad boys, or even men with a childish streak; she'd always dated men who were mature, intelligent and who knew exactly what they wanted. The men Elizabeth had been with had life plans and career goals; John Sheppard just lived from day to day and, as he paid the taxi driver and started to climb the porch, Elizabeth Weir finally appreciated the fact that she'd be perfectly content to live her life like that, from day to day, with him.

Elizabeth shook her head in resignation. She hadn't loved John, past tense. She was in love with him right there and then and probably had been for years. Typical. Elizabeth stepped away from the window and slowly walked to the door, collecting her thoughts. Should she tell him? Or should she just keep her feelings to herself? She had known he had felt the same previously and pushed him away, but did he love her still? Or worse, did he feel the same but felt that it was best if they didn't confuse things, what with her being fat and pregnant? Or worst of all, she bit her lip nervously, how he felt or she felt meant absolutely jack shit because, in John's I.O.A ultimatum of baby vs. Atlantis, the City of the Ancients had won.

"Elizabeth?"

She sighed sadly.

"Elizabeth? I can see you through the door, d'you think you could open it?"

Elizabeth startled, finally noticing his presence. "Oh sorry, right...of course." Opening the door, she was greeted with John's signature flyboy grin. That grin is responsible for so much. Despite her feelings, Elizabeth still allowed herself to rue the day she ever met Major J. Sheppard.

"Hi honey, I'm home!" He grinned broadly. She could only raise an eyebrow. He pouted. "I'm happy to see you, why aren't you happy to see me?"

"You're happy? Wait until you meet my mother." Elizabeth walked back into the front room and sat down on the sofa, lazily.

"Okay, enough. You scared me enough on the phone. I get it; she's gonna hate me. I've come to terms with it." He put his suitcase by the stairs and sat down on the sofa opposite her; he looked out of place...uncomfortable. John and floral patterns did not mix.

He cocked his head to the side and frowned at her obvious observations. "What?"

"Nothing..." She rubbed her forehead, tiredly.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned, leaning forward, elbows on his legs.

"Fine. Great, in fact." She snapped. "Hungry?"

"Sure," John replied automatically; he recognised that in Elizabeth's current mood it was best to just do what she said.

"There's a casserole in the fridge that you can help yourself to." She pinched the bridge of her nose, evidently stressed.

"Oh, that's okay." John smiled gratefully.

She scowled. "You said you were hungry?!"

"Yeah well, if you made that casserole in this frame of mind, then I'm a little worried that you might have poisoned it." Elizabeth couldn't help the small smile that crept on her face. "Ha! I saw that! You smiled!...You sure that you're okay?"

She tilted her head and stared at him for a moment. She wanted to ask how the meetings back in Colorado went, but she couldn't. The words seemed to lodge themselves in her throat; how the hell was she and her baby supposed to compete with Atlantis? It's Atlantis, for fuck's sake! "...fuck."

John raised both eyebrows at her profanity. "Excuse me?" He asked amusedly.

Elizabeth continued to stare at him seriously. "John, I...I want you to know that I'm still-"

The front door flew open as Margaret Weir entered the room. John leapt from his seat immediately. Elizabeth saw him swallow nervously and felt strangely smug because of it and looked back at her mother who just stood there...saying nothing, standing still and not trying to pretend she wasn't scrutinising the man in her living room.

"Er, hello Mrs. Weir, how are you? Elizabeth's said so many nice things about her wonderful mum, you, and thank you so much for letting me stay in your house, it's really beautiful, I love your front yard, are those English roses that you're growing outside? They're really beautiful...too. I used to do a bit of gardening when I was in high school for...money, not to spend on alcohol or anything, but, you know, for going to the movies and stuff...so, you know, if you ever need a helping hand I'm happy to get my hands dirty...in a gardening sense, if you know what I mean." John held his hand out to shake hers, finally drawing breath.

"You like to talk a lot, don't you?" Margaret raised an eyebrow, ignoring his outstretched hand.

John swallowed again and let his hand slowly drop to his hand. He tried for humour. "It's a family trait that eyebrow thing, huh?"

"Excuse me?" Margaret asked, exasperated.

"Mother," Elizabeth smiled graciously, intervening, "Did you go shopping?" She nodded towards the bags in her mother's hands.

She stared hard at John before slowly turning her gaze to her daughter. "Of course," handing her daughter one of the bags, "it's for you – some maternity wear. You cannot keep wearing such baggy clothes otherwise no one will know that you're pregnant and instead they'll merely assume you just like food too much."

Elizabeth grinded her teeth and opened the bag, pulling out a blue chiffon maternity shirt. John started to snigger, but one glare from Elizabeth instantly shut him up. "It's frilly."

Her mother sighed patiently. "It's Ralph Lauren."

Her daughter rolled her eyes. "Barring the fact that it is frilly and made of a material I would never ever wear-"

"Chiffon, dear."

"- yeah okay, barring all that, why would you buy me an expensive shirt which I'm only going to have a few months to wear before it is perfectly useless?

"Well," Her mother took the top from her and put it gently back into the bag, "you two might have another baby, someday. A little brother or sister for this one."

Elizabeth glared at her mother, hoping that alone was enough to get the woman to stop talking. "Mum..." She said, warningly.

"What?" She asked innocently, looking at John once more. "Don't you want to be a proper family? I assume you're going to marry my daughter Major Sheppard." His rank was spoken with obvious distaste.

John looked at Elizabeth for help; his eyes pleading for what to say. She wished she could help him, but she had nothing. Margaret Weir had made it quite clear the day before that she was going to 'have words with this John Sheppard' and, until she did, there would be no peace and quiet in the Weir household. How he fares now, Elizabeth thought, will form my mother's opinion of him for the rest of her life. So, she merely shrugged at him. He looked at her questioningly. She shrugged again. I don't know, she tried to say with her eyes, just make it up! If you can't handle my mother, how the hell do you expect to handle a baby?! He turned back to her mother, standing straighter.

"Yes, mam."

"What?!" The Weir women asked simultaneously.

John smiled at Margaret. "We just thought it would be best to wait until after the baby's born."

Margaret's icy glare instantaneously melted. "Well don't be silly, my dear John, the wedding will have to be before the baby's born, it's only right." She grinned at him. "This is so exciting! I'm so glad you've come to this decision and I bet you two are happier for it, oh Elizabeth, I can't believe you kept me in suspense." She kissed her stunned daughter on the cheek. "There is so much to do, but that can wait! Oh my! I'm gonna go phone everyone!" And with that, she shoved her shopping bags into her catatonic daughter's arms and ran up the stairs.

John smiled at Elizabeth and held his arms out as if to say 'what a job well done!'. She looked at him horrified for another moment before dumping the bags on the sofa. She spun around to face him again.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"What's wrong?" John frowned, puzzled.

"Yes, mam! YES, MAM! I don't remember us being engaged, John! I don't remember us being in a relationship! We're not even casually dating! You just dumped Mindy!"

"Oh, for crying out loud! Her name is Mandy!!! And YOU SHRUGGED!!" He yelled back at her.

She waited for more, but apparently he felt that answer was sufficient. What the hell does that mean?! "I shrugged! What do you mean 'I shrugged'?! I don't...when did I...WHAT?!"

"She said 'I assume you're gonna marry my daughter' and I looked at you for an answer and you shrugged!! A 'well, I guess' kind of shrug! Not the most positive answer a guy wants to get, but there was no ring or kneeling so I thought fair enough-"

"THAT was not a 'well, I guess' kind of shrug! That was a 'my mother is about to embark on the Spanish inquisition and you're on your own because, frankly, I can't be assed to help you when I've already had to deal with her, so you are going to have to figure out how to tell her that we don't plan to get married' kind of a shrug!!"

John shook his head in pure disbelief. "Are you crazy?! How was I ever going to get all of that, whatever the hell you said, from a shrug!"

"Is everything all right down there?" They heard Margaret call from upstairs.

"Everything's fine mum! I just...dropped one of the bags!" Elizabeth called back up the stairs, shaking her head wearily at John. "I can't believe this." She hissed at him. "She's on the phone telling all my family! What are we supposed to do?"

"Get married." John snarled at her. "Like we should have done in the first place."

"Oh yeah, we're a match made in heaven; it's not like we argue at every turn or anything." She said sarcastically, folding her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry dear, did you just say you dropped the bags?" Margaret called again.

Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling, her patience disappearing rapidly. "YES!!"

John walked up to Elizabeth, annoyed. "We have to try Elizabeth for our child, so stop being so selfish and just marry me."

Elizabeth sighed, dejectedly. "Why are you pushing this? What-"

"Elizabeth! I bought china! Be careful with those bags!"

Elizabeth only just stopped herself from stamping her foot. "MOTHER!! WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP?!?"

Silence.

John smiled and casually put his hands in his pockets. "Keep talking to your mother like that and I think she'll be too busy yelling at you to hate me."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to make another sarcastic comment, but closed it again. She looked at him, hard, waiting for him...to do anything. But, he just stared back, unflinchingly; he had laid his cards on the table. It was her turn.

"Okay." She said, simply.

"...okay?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Let's get married."

TBC...