Disclaimer: Really? I need to write one? No one has figured out they aren't my characters? Fine. Be that way. Characters and such belong to MGM, er, huh, I guess everyone who has already laid claim to the Stargate franchise. And to think they could have bought into the Starbucks franchise instead…

Rating: PG

Category: Weir/Sheppard UST

Spoilers: The Eye (Season 1, ep. 11)

Author: Traci

Summary: Post-ep for The Eye (2nd part). After all the events of that day, Sheppard and Weir talk.

Author Notes: Upon watching the ep a second time finally I was inspired to write an Atlantis fic! Some of it may be a bit out of character but please keep in mind that Elizabeth Weir has never been in the military. Hope you all like it. And a big thanks to Jacqueline – you know why!

Strength

Major John Sheppard followed Dr. Weir into her office.

Turning around, Elizabeth smiled. "Was there something else, John?"

His heart skipped a beat. That voice. Her voice. The voice he was sure had been silenced only hours earlier. "N…no. Nothing, just wanted to put in for that vacation time now," he answered shaking his head.

"Twenty years ahead of time?" she laughed.

John shrugged. "No time like the present."

Her hazel eyes studied his face for a few moments before finding his eyes. "It couldn't have been easy for you," she said softly.

Believing she had been murdered? No, not easy at all. John took a step closer. "What couldn't have been?"

"Being out there all alone trying to get the upper hand."

Oh, that. "I had it under control," he smirked.

She smiled. "I'm sure you did."

"It couldn't have been easy for you either," he said. "Being stuck with McKay all that time."

Elizabeth laughed. "It wasn't that bad." She stopped laughing. "Rodney did save my life."

John's eyes fell from hers while he clenched his jaw.

Hesitating for a second, she then added, "You thought he had killed me, didn't you?"

"I'd better see how the cleanup is going," he muttered and turned to leave but Elizabeth's hand on his arm stopped him. Slowly he turned to face her.

"You did, didn't you? That was why you said it was good to hear my voice."

He sighed knowing there was no escaping now. "He told me you were dead." Inhaling sharply at the memory, he continued. "The last thing I had heard was he had a gun aimed at you. So yeah, I thought he had killed you."

Her hand slid down his arm and took his hand. "Is that why you shut the gate while his men were trying to get through?"

Taking a deep breath, John trembled slightly at her touch. What was it about her that made his defenses collapse? "No. I knew if they got through there'd be no way to save Atlantis for everyone else but… it made me feel less guilty about it," he admitted.

"We are all indebted to you, John. If it hadn't been for you, none of us would be here right now… especially me."

He gently squeezed her hand. "Yeah, about that. I'm really sorry I had to shoot him with you standing right there." The memory of watching her fall after he fired the shot filled his mind. The brief moment of fearing he had shot her instead consumed him. "How are you doing?" His eyes searched hers. He had asked that once before and she had told him the truth and he respected her for it. It took a very strong person to admit the truth.

"I'm better now that it's all over." She paused a moment. "Does it ever get easier? Getting shot at, I mean."

"Not really. Though after you've been shot merely being shot at doesn't quite seem so bad." Turning serious, John took hold of her other hand and look straight into her eyes. "Elizabeth, you… you will probably have nightmares about it for at least a few nights. If you need anyone to talk to… I've been there. I know what it's like. Whatever time of day or night it is…"

Biting her lower lip, she nodded. "I may take you up on that."

"I mean it. Don't hesitate."

After many moments of comfortable silence, Elizabeth slowly smiled. "Remember when Rodney asked if I doubted him and I told him 'yes, many times'?"

"Yeah."

"I never once doubted you," she told him. "We may not always agree on how to handle situations but I always trust you, John." Suddenly she let go of his hand and sneezed.

"Bless you." He noticed a shiver run through her and that her face had turned a light shade of red. Touching her forehead, he smiled. "Seems someone caught a cold."

"Can't imagine how that happened after sitting outside in cold, torrential rain and wind for nearly an hour," she commented back.

"Come on," he said, opening the office door. "I'm taking you to your room where you are going to do nothing but sleep."

"John, the cleanup," she protested. "I have to be here to oversee everything."

He was already leading her out of her office. "I can take care of that. You've been through a lot today."

She stopped short in the hallway and turned to face him. "I am not some weak, fragile doll," she stated.

"I never said you were, Elizabeth. But you are human. And you are sick. And you aren't military…" Immediately he cringed inwardly and outwardly. From the beginning of this mission, the military personnel who had come along questioned having a civilian in charge. John had been her biggest defender and now he had done the same thing.

"So you think I can't handle this?" she asked, her defenses up.

"That's not what I meant."

Weir brushed past him heading back to her office.

"Elizabeth!" He stopped just before being hit by the slamming door. "You know I didn't mean…" He opened the door and saw her standing across the room with her back to him. Closing the door behind him, he was grateful the shades in her office were drawn. "I'm sorry," he softly said as he walked up behind her.

"Maybe if I were military this wouldn't bother me as much," she hissed.

Unsure what to do, John gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "No, it probably wouldn't," he admitted then forced her to turn and look at him. "But then you wouldn't be the Elizabeth Weir we've all come to know and love." He was happy to get at least a hint of a smile out of her. "Look, I'm not used to being around people who have never been through boot camp so… I was taught to keep my emotions in check, to always take control…" He sighed. "I'm not saying this well at all, am I?"

Wiping away a few tears, she shook her head. "No, but I think I understand."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I lost it out there."

"You have no reason to apologize. I do and I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like I thought you couldn't handle it." John slid his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders and pulled her closer. "Now, I still say you need to go to your room and get some sleep." He opened her office door once again. "And it has nothing to do with weakness or fragility or anything. I just don't want to catch whatever you're coming down with."

She laughed. "Ah yes, now there is the Major Sheppard I am more familiar with. Always coming up with the practical reason."

They reached her quarters and John's arm slid from her. "Do you need anything? Want me to get medicine or anything?"

"No. If I need anything I'll just call Carson but thank you."

He nodded. "Okay. If you do need anything…"

"I know how to find you." She sneezed again. "You sure you don't want me out there to help?"

"And get all of us sick?" he teased. "Not a chance."

"Alright." She opened her door then stopped and looked back at John. "Thank you for saving us all." Stepping inside, she closed the door before he could respond.

A smile grew on his lips. "Always trying to have the last word." Hearing his name followed by a crackle in his earpiece, he sighed. "Now it's off to save the marble floors," he mumbled yet he did not mind nearly as much as he usually would have. Elizabeth Weir was still alive and that was the most important thing of all.

The End