Waiting For Moments Of Clarity

The water fell, drop after drop, plummeting down onto her skin like ice cold bullets. She wasn't sure when the shower had gone cold, last time she'd paid any attention to it her skin was red with the heat. She didn't want to move, because out there she had to be strong, but encased in the glass walls of her shower she could be weak and no one would know any better.

They wouldn't see her emotions.

Because that's what she lived her life by wasn't it? Her emotions. And she'd only proven Kavanagh right by sending in Ronan. Instead of doing the proper thing and interviewing everyone without bias, investigating the situation thoroughly – she'd acted on impulse and done what her gut had told her was the right decision.

Not the right thing to do, but the right decision.

Which had been the wrong decision. She'd proven Kavanagh's theory that she made all her decisions by emotion and feelings and not on level headedness. Once upon a time she would have used level headedness, but Atlantis had changed her.

"Oh please! Everything you do is motivated by personal feelings! You're driven by emotion, not reason."

Suddenly angry that the water was cold she jammed the tap off, but sunk to the floor of the shower, staring blankly ahead. Was this how everyone saw her? Her friends? Was this how John Sheppard saw her? It would certainly explain why he never paid any attention to her decisions in military matters. He was supposed to be her closest friend here, but it seemed as though he held the same opinion of her as Kavanagh.

She was weak.

Standing up slowing she stepped out of the shower and quickly dried herself, getting dressed and finally finding herself standing in front of the mirror. Her eyes were red and her face redder, she had bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep over the last few days and her hair hung straight at the side of her face.

"That's why I've always thought you're not capable of doing this job."

She should resign. That's what she should do, go back to Earth on the Daedalus and hand in her resignation to General Landry. The Daedalus was due to leave the next morning, she could pretend she just wanted some time off and then go back to Earth. She'd take Sedge and they'd go and live in a small cottage by the sea.

Maybe in Wales.

They deserved a better leader, someone who thought with their mind and their military precision and not with their feelings and emotions. Somehow this decision calmed her, but not enough that she felt she could sleep. Eyeing the clock – 0304 – she made her way out into the empty hallways and headed towards the mess hall.

She knew everyone would be asleep, except for a couple of guards that would be posted in the gate room in case something happened. She hoped no one saw her, because her sweat pants and woollen sweater weren't exactly the most flattering clothes she owned.

The mess hall, of course, was empty – but somehow it felt as though no one had ever been there, that it was hers alone. She grabbed a coffee and took a seat at one of the tables. She felt horrible, she hadn't cried once while on Atlantis, yet here she was having completely broken down. She wanted someone to talk to, but she felt like that would only undermine her leadership abilities even more. She couldn't even take an insult without it affecting her emotionally.

Kavanagh was right.

"There's no need for the Trust to blow it up when Dr Weir's at the helm!"

Which was why she had to leave. And she would do so in four hours when the Daedalus departed. She considered whether or not to tell anyone what she was doing…whether to pack her things or get someone to send them back through the gate later. She decided it was less suspicious if she left her stuff behind – she knew they'd never let her go, not if they knew she wasn't coming back.

But it was what was best for them.

Taking the last sip of her coffee she stood up and walked back towards her room, hoping that maybe she could catch a couple of hours of sleep before dawn. Halfway back to her room she realised she was walking the wrong way, and she'd found herself standing outside his room.

Suddenly incredibly confused she stopped and stood outside his door. She wanted to enter, but he would be sleeping. After a few moments of standing there the door slid open to reveal John Sheppard, still dressed in his uniform pants and a black t-shirt, looking very confused.

"Elizabeth?"

She raised her eyes and let them focus on him properly, registering how strange it must look to him that she was standing outside his door at three in the morning, dressed in her pyjama's.

He stepped forward slightly, a concerned expression on his face, and reached out to touch her arm. "Hey are you OK?"

Her mind was frozen, not quite sure how to respond. She didn't want to lie to him, but she was afraid of breaking down in front of him.

"No…" she found herself saying quietly.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked.

"Not really," she replied truthfully.

He stood staring at her for a few moments. "OK then how about a game of Scrabble?"

"Scrabble?" she felt herself smiling ever so slightly and half raising an eyebrow.

He grinned at her and then ran back into his room, signalling for her to follow. She stepped through the door and it slid shut behind her. He clearly hadn't gone to bed yet as it was still made properly, and he still had his boots on.

"John, why are you up?" she asked as he pulled out a Scrabble board from under his bed.

"Can't sleep," he replied, tipping the box upside down so everything fell onto his bed. "Game?"

Elizabeth really didn't feel like playing Scrabble but it seemed to make John happy, and seeing him happy always made her feel better. Because of her feelings…

"You're driven by emotion."

She watched him put down his first word. "Wraith? You could've started with something slightly less…depressing."

"Hey it's a word!" he replied. "Your turn."

She sat down opposite him, her legs to one side, hanging off the bed. She was amazed how comfortable she felt sitting in her military commander's bedroom at 0330 in the morning playing Scrabble. She put down 'time' which gained the comment from John that he expected more of her, before he sat back to think about his next word.

She watched him, sitting with one leg bent upwards and the other crossed beneath it, his arm resting on his knee as he pulled faces while trying to think of a word he could make. She had to admit he was adorably cute when he sat like that, especially considering he still had his boots on. She thought again about her plan to leave Atlantis, should she tell him? She knew out of all the people on Atlantis it would be him that returned to her thoughts constantly.

Because of her feelings toward him? He was just another reason for her to resign her post. She knew she was supposed to feel the same towards every expedition member, it was something Colonel O'Neill had warned her about – and she was pretty sure he knew what he was talking about when it came to having feelings for someone under his command…

But she hadn't learnt from his lesson. Not that John was exactly under her command, she definitely had no control over him, but she felt something for him…something she knew she shouldn't, because every time she got the news that he was missing or injured her heart froze for a few seconds. She looked up at him as he placed the letters on the scrabble board.

"Love…" she said quietly, reading it.

"Oh please. Everything you do is motivated by your personal feelings."

She stood up instantly, knocking the Scrabble board onto the ground. John was on his feet in an instant.

"What?" he asked.

"I…it's…just something Kavanagh said," she muttered, bending down and starting to pick up the Scrabble pieces.

John knelt down too and caught her hands as she tried to pick up the board. "What did Kavanagh say?"

She looked up and met his eyes. There was a mix of caring and anger in his expression. His personal feelings. Suddenly very confused, all she could hear was Kavanagh laughing at her.

"It doesn't matter," she said, closing her eyes and trying to push Kavanagh's voice away. "It won't matter tomorrow because it won't be a problem anymore."

"What?" John asked.

She stood up and then sat back down on his bed, too many emotions taking over. She didn't want to leave him, but it was for the best. He stood up slowly and looked down at her; she could clearly sense he was worried.

"Elizabeth…"

"He was right, John…I proved him right by sending Ronan in…" she was staring blankly ahead, refusing to let it get to her anymore.

"Proved him right about what?"

"I judge everything according to my personal feelings…I'm driven by emotion and I don't think with my head. I assumed the Trust operative had to be Kavanagh because I didn't like him – so obviously he was the first choice for being the enemy…He told me 'who needs the Trust to blow up Atlantis when Dr Weir's at the helm.' And he's right, I've never done any good for this place."

John was silent for a few moments, and even though Elizabeth wasn't looking at him she knew he'd clenched his jaw and his fists were slowly curling into tight balls. "I am going to kill him…"

"No, John…" she stood up and grabbed his arm, afraid he would go right then and there to Kavanagh's room and beat the crap out of him. "Please…he had every right to say it, he's right."

"No he's not! And so what…because he has no emotions he's allowed to be an ass to you?"

Elizabeth paused, not knowing how to respond. "John it doesn't matter, tomorrow morning I'm leaving on the Daedalus, going back to Earth. I'm not needed here, I'm only making bad decisions."

He fell completely silent, staring at her. His expression changed from angry to overwhelmed with emotions. "You're actually letting Kavanagh get to you? Hell, he's back on the Daedalus first thing in the morning and he's not coming back. You on the other hand aren't going anywhere…so what if you're driven by emotion? We're still alive aren't we? You think I have a black mark on my record because I was thinking with my military mind? No, I let my personal feelings control me and I paid the price – but I still believe I did the right thing. You're the best leader I've ever served under and I refuse to have you replaced with Caldwell…you understand?"

He paused and moved his hand up to her chin, tipping her head upwards so she was looking into his eyes. "Do you understand? I won't let you go anywhere…"

Without giving her time to reply he pulled her against his chest and put his arms around her, resting his head against hers. "I won't let you go, Elizabeth."

And somehow those words said so much more than 'you're the best leader I've ever served under'. They spoke to her something she knew he could never admit openly. Something that was controlled by his personal feelings…

He was right. She wasn't alone. When she thought about it everyone was governed by their own person feelings, and maybe she just had to learn to control them better. She placed her arms around John and hugged him back, thankful that he was here to knock the sense into her when she needed it.

Then she pulled away, although his hands remained on her arms protectively. "You promise you're not going anywhere? Because otherwise I'm not going to let go…"

"I promise," she said, wiping away tears she hadn't notice forming. "Thank you."

"And you know you can always come to me right? You don't have to hide anything from me…and even if I'm asleep…just wake me up, please…"

"Not that that was a problem tonight," she smiled slightly, a question hidden in her statement.

He shrugged slightly. "To tell the truth I was just coming to check on you…you seemed really upset earlier and I was worried about you. I mean anyone who wasn't amused by Zelenka's face this afternoon had to be feeling pretty crappy."

"Then thank you," she said, before straightening herself. "I should really go…"

"We still haven't finished our Scrabble game," he feigned looking hurt.

She eyed the pieces on the ground. "Well if you insist…"

"I do!" he said.

They finished their game and found themselves lying on the bed talking. He told her how he ended up in Afghanistan, of the friends he'd lost. She told him about how she got into negotiating, learning about the SGC and about Sedge. When he asked where he was now she explained to him about Simon, how he wouldn't come to Atlantis because he'd found someone else. He told her she could do better than a doctor anyway.

"Like what? A pilot?" she teased.

"I can think of one who wouldn't complain about falling in love with the beautiful leader of Atlantis," he replied.

Looking up at him grinning, she couldn't help but smile herself. She wondered what it was that Kavanagh could have said that would possibly make her want to leave just this one small part of Atlantis. The man she had become closer to than anyone else in her life, and he was here, not on Earth. He had faith in her and she had to learn to have more faith in herself.

"Really now?" she replied, still smiling at him. "And what makes you think that the leader of Atlantis would be interested?"

"Oh, something in the way she looks at him…"

Suddenly the close proximity was very noticeable. "John maybe we should go…"

"Yeah…maybe…" he said, but he didn't move away, instead he turned to look at her. "We have to be up in an hour…we should probably get some sleep."

"Hmm…" she said, also turning to look at him. "Maybe…"

His eyes seemed darker that usual, his hair messier. He was tired, that much was obvious, but she could see in his eyes that he wasn't ready to go to sleep, he wanted to spend more time with her. Suddenly the night didn't seem long enough at all…

She sat up, knowing if she did at that moment something would happen that would quite possibly be too much for her to handle at that moment. He grabbed her wrist.

"Stay…"

It was a simple request, and not one with sexual intent. He wanted her there to make sure that when he woke up the next morning she would still be around, that she wouldn't leave on the Daedalus without his knowledge.

"OK," she replied after a few moments consideration, lying back down and turning on her side. "Goodnight John."

He placed his arm around her and leaned in against the back of her head. "Morning Elizabeth," he whispered in her ear.