Summary : Elizabeth is pissed off... and she has a headache. (SW)

Disclaimer : If I owned Atlantis I would actually be rich, I would live in Vancouver, and I would put a lot more sex in the show.

Spoiler : Hot Zone

A/N : I have no idea where that fic came from. I didn't even intend on writing it until I opened Word…

Rotem Shahar kindly beta-ed that story. Thank you so much for your time !

Dedicated to little'red ;)

And finally a huge thank you to Quezacolt, tpaschal2, CJ Jade, johnliz4ever, ryn and Olivia Valentinefor reviewing my last story. :hugs you all:


One of those days

If she could stick her fingers right through her skull to force back the headache, she would. Although picturing that act might not help… The sarcastic side of her personality - just between the logical and reasonable one - told her to simply shut her computer off and go to bed. Whether she could sleep or not was a completely different problem.

She looked up at the bright ceiling and swore. There must be a way to adjust the intensity of the light! Well there was… For those who had the ATA gene… that she didn't have.

John did.

She remembered how the light, at that precise spot, had flickered the very moment he had leant over her naked body with a content sigh. She almost laughed but her blood was way too far from her brain for her to do anything but whimpering and groaning.

That might have been the worst idea she had today; remembering that moment… and the others. Anyway, she didn't think about it anymore…nope, not at all…

She was even going to finish her last report. Bates had the bad idea to run into cannibals. In fact, they hadn't had the time to check their eating habits, before Stackhouse received an arrow right in his ass, and they decided to head back and qualify the Autochthons as 'non friendly'. She approved.Before she could start writing, someone knocked on her door. She rolled her eyes and got up, walking straight to the door. Couldn't they leave her alone? Just for one evening! It seemed like every time she left the control room, the whole city was about to collapse. Well, that was a very self-centered thought, she figured, but let's be honest: she didn't give a damn tonight! She was tired and angry and that headache wouldn't leave her alone. The only thing she wanted was to punch a wall, or make any living being that approached her bleed. It was just one of those days. So whoever was at her door, they'd better have a hell of a good reason.

Or it could be John.

She'd have no remorse at making him bleed. At least, not for a few hours.

It'd been one week since the whole Virus incident, and they still hadn't talked to each other since their interrupted discussion. And she wasn't the one avoiding him. Not really.

After all, she wasn't the one who should be ashamed. It was all his fault. HE had forced Bates to disobey her orders in front of everybody. And, she was too pissed off to accept that Bates might share the blame.

It wasn't a question of pride; it was about respect and trust.

Two things she had from everybody here.

Two things she only wanted from him.

The door slide open. Holy sh… .It really was one of those days.

Major John Sheppard was standing here, his flyboy smile plastered on that darn cute face of his, his bright eyes slightly unfocussed, his hands wisely crossed in front of him. No, no, no she was not falling into this trap; she quickly pushed aside the thought of jumping him right there, right now.

No! She was mad at him. He was the reason for her anger and worse, he was the reason for her headache. She wanted to slap him. But he might actually misunderstand her intentions…

She was looking at him; he was looking at her. Frankly, she didn't want to argue with him tonight. She knew he would give her some excuse she didn't even want to think about. 'Mister I'M Always Right because I'm in the military, and I'm a man, and I'…'

"Sorry"

Wow… had he just whispered he was sorry?

Note to self: tell Sheppard to stop surprising her. Especially when she had a headache.

The surprise must have been written all over her face because he suddenly brightly smiled. 'Oh no Johnny boy, this is not going to be that easy,' she thought to herself. That must have been written on her face too because he suddenly stopped smiling.

Since when had she lost all control over the emotions displaying on her own face?

She decided to walk back to her bed and slumped down onto it. He followed her and stopped right in front of her.

And then she started to fear him.

He wasn't supposed to do that, he wasn't supposed to come and say he was sorry, he wasn't supposed to be that man, the really dangerous one, for her feelings, for her heart. No, that wasn't right. She was supposed to stay angry at him.

Anger. It didn't hurt, it didn't make her weak, it didn't make her think like a teenage lover.

« I was wrong »

She never hoped so much that she was hearing voices. He hadn't just said he was wrong.

Ah! She knew! Mckay had found a new toy that allowed people to read thoughts! And John was testing it on her and she would kick his ass…

… Or not.

Cause she just had the second worst idea of the day. She found herself staring at him, watching his eyes closely. Was that sincerity and pain and sadness and ..love? A sudden wave of memory washed over her and she remembered every single moment they spent together, laughing, crying, pretending.

No. She didn't want THAT, she didn't want to surrender, she didn't want to let him touch her this way. She wanted to despise him, to hate him. Hell, ignoring him would be enough!

Anything… but to love him.

So when he approached her, when he sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of her, she didn't move. When he gently took her face in his hands she didn't look at him, when he kissed her, like he never had, she didn't respond. But when he leaned back and looked at her, forcefully showing her the display of emotions in his eyes, she couldn't help but purge all her fears and anger in the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Damn him to hell.

As long as he doesn't forget to bring her with him.

df
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