Thanks again for the lovely reviews - looking like this'll be a long one so any suggestions can be fitted in! Hehe.
Moments Like This
Chapter 3 – Temptation
John had been reading – or at least trying to read – his book for the last half an hour, but 'War and Peace' was becoming more of a chore than a relaxation. Stretched out on his bed, he glanced out the large picture window at the decent view of the city in the early evening twilight, wondering what else he could do with himself. As tempted as he was to go in search of Elizabeth, he was a little wary that she'd tire of his company should he keep interrupting her. Maybe he could go and annoy McKay, he thought brightly. After all, the scientist had interrupted his breakfast with Elizabeth that morning, and winding Rodney up was more fun than he'd care to admit.
Placing the thick hardback on his nightstand, John got up and moved to the door, surprised to find Elizabeth standing outside, her hand raised as if about to knock. He couldn't stop his gaze wandering over her; there seemed to be an entirely different Doctor Weir standing in front of him. Dressed casually in jeans and bundled in an enormous Yale University sweatshirt, she looked unbearably attractive, and John had trouble preventing himself leaning forward to kiss her.
"Hey," She greeted with a smile, aware of his intense eyes on her but assuming it was due the rare sight of non-uniform clothing.
His gaze swept back to her face as he favoured her with a lazy grin. "Not had enough of me today, Liz?"
She gave him a playfully innocent look, tilting her head to one side as if she couldn't understand why he'd think that. "Yes, actually. But I have all this to do," She gestured to the bundle of disks and the laptop she held in her arms. "And McKay has managed to disable the heating in my room as well as my office, whilst trying to make the temperature systems more efficient. Would it be okay if I imposed for a little while?"
"Ah, McKay strikes again." He grinned as he stepped back, motioning for her to come in. Sitting back on the bed as he had been, he watched her as she pulled out the chair from the small desk in one corner of the room. She sensed his eyes on her, turning to see the bemused half-smile on his handsome face.
"What?" Instinctively her hand went to her head, touching her hair to see if there was something out of place causing his amusement.
"There's a reason I don't sit on that chair. It's damned uncomfortable." He patted the left side of his bed, his features forming a distinctly come-hither expression as he grinned at her again. "I don't bite you know."
Elizabeth looked at him with a tolerant smile, but decided the bed would be more comfortable. Moving her work to the middle of the bed, she sat herself cross-legged on the far left side, somehow unwilling to trust herself to sit next to him given the flirtatious nature of his mood. Once she settled herself comfortably, pulling her laptop onto her knees and pulling open the cover, she looked up to find him watching her again, an exaggerated pout on his lips as though she'd offended him.
"Don't you trust me?" He asked her, deliberately donning his butter-wouldn't-melt face, which elicited a laugh from his companion. "I really don't bite."
She folded her arms and tried to keep a straight face, but a smile broke through as she watched him gaze at her with those gorgeous hazel eyes. Feeling a mischievous desire to shock the teasing smirk from his well-defined jaw line she replied: "Somehow I don't believe that for a second."
Her loaded remark briefly achieved what she'd hoped it would, throwing him for a second, but only because he still held the image of Elizabeth Weir as too chaste – or at least too sensible - to respond to his playful insinuations in kind. "Lizzie, was that innuendo?" His astonished voice was belied by the huge, rather impressed grin he couldn't keep from his face, watching her smile remain amused as her eyes flashed a challenge.
"I don't remember telling you that you could call me Lizzie, Major."
"I took it upon myself to take the initiative on that one." He picked up his book again, although he had no intention of reading it, smirking at her again as she shook her head, a pleasant smile still on her lips that told him he wasn't in trouble.
John's gaze kept shifting to her as she worked, eventually settling on her grey sweatshirt that looked at least two sizes too big for her. "So you were Yale then?"
She looked up at him, a puzzled frown pulling her brows together, before she realised what he was talking about. "Oh, no, it was a gift from my brother." At his inquiring look, she explained, "It's a silly story really. He's eight years older than me, so I was ten when he went off to University, and he would always come home wearing his university sweatshirt. I always asked him to bring one home for me, but he said they were just for a university club or something, so of course I wanted one even more- "
He was smiling at her, irrationally pleased that she trusted him enough to confide a family memory. "Go on."
Taking a deep breath as if to gain the confidence to continue her story, she wondered when she'd become close enough to her 2IC to not even have to think before sharing a personal recollection. She had to admit it was a nice realisation, especially since she'd originally assumed she and John would clash over pretty much anything, be it professional tactics or personal preferences. "When I was leaving for university myself, Will gave me one of his Yale sweatshirts as a going away present. I always take it everywhere, it just seems to connect me to my family wherever I am." She looked at him in embarrassment. "It's silly I know."
John held her eyes, her story seeming to unearth an almost overwhelming urge to hug her, to kiss her, just to touch her. He masked his internal battle with a grin. "It means something to you, so it's sentimental, not silly."
Her smile was so bright that it seemed to light up her pretty eyes. "It's pretty good in the cold too."
"Are we still talking about your sweatshirt?" He asked with a cheeky grin, breaking the serious personal moment with his usual flirtatious charm.
Elizabeth threw herself forward so she could thump him on the chest for his remark, but underestimating the distance between them, she nearly losing her balance. John managed to catch her before she fell on top of him; one hand on her waist while the other caught her wrist to hinder her impending assault with a laugh. Seemly undeterred by their intimate closeness, she fought him jovially as he held onto her, determined to hit him for his flirtatious twisting of her words. She was letting out little laughing squeals at not being able to get free, and John chuckled smugly as he overpowered her, eventually managing to flip her onto her back. Breathless from laughing and dark hair spread out over his pillow, Elizabeth seemed to realise their position at the same second John did, their eyes locking as he held his face not an inch from hers.
Finding herself trapped beneath her 2IC for the second time in as many days was not the most normal occurrence for Elizabeth, but it definitely wasn't a bad one either, and this time she had the very strong feeling he was going to close the distance between them and kiss her. She could smell soap and some faint musky scent that must have been aftershave, his breath brushing lightly over her cheek as his greeny-brown eyes bored into hers. As his left hand released its hold on her wrist and reached up to touch her face tenderly, she started slightly at his gentle caress, purely because she couldn't quite believe this was happening, an internal war of professional ethics versus desire ever-present.
Unfortunately he took it the wrong way, springing up off her as if she'd thrown hot water onto him, an uncomfortable smile on his face as he stood by the bed. "Sorry," He apologised lightly, running a hand over his hair as he saw her sit up. She brought her long legs up to her chest, folding her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees, a warm smile on her face that he was extremely grateful for.
"That's why I talk my way out of things, I can never win in a hand to hand fight." She told him calmly.
They watched each other silently for a few minutes, each trying to work out what had just happened and blaming themselves for it. In all his life John hadn't found himself this confused over a woman. It had never been a problem to him; a woman was attached or she wasn't, she was interested or she wasn't. Elizabeth Weir was proving to be an enigma that he couldn't work out but also couldn't stay away from. He'd taken her being startled before as a sign he'd misread her feelings, but the way she was looking at him now was making him think he had been right the first time. Confused and unsure of spending more time with her, he quickly thought up an excuse to escape for a little while. "I'm going to go grab something from the kitchens, you want anything?"
She shook her head no, reaching out for the forgotten laptop to continue what she'd originally come in for, then looked up at him again with a questioning look. "You want me to go? I can go find somewhere else- "
"No, Liz, it's fine honestly," John assured her sincerely, a feeling of guilt flooding though him at the thought he'd made her uncomfortable. He cracked a smile, hoping to ease her apprehension as he added: "Besides I know you're only in here to steal my 'War and Peace' book."
Comforted by her raised eyebrow and the smirk on her face, John headed out his door, a fleeting thought for anyone who came knocking and found Elizabeth by herself in his bedroom. That was one way of adding fuel to the rumour-filled fire, he mused.
It was an hour or so past the usual evening mealtime, so the large room that served as their mess hall was relatively empty when John got there, his mind still playing and re-playing the good-natured little tussle with Elizabeth. If he'd been wrong about that moment being a particularly intimate one wouldn't she have gotten up? She'd gazed at him with that lovely smile on her face, pretty much inviting him to kiss her, hadn't she? He shook his head, he'd never be able to understand that woman, but in some perverse way it was one of the many things he liked about her. It wasn't – or at least it hadn't been – a normal occurrence to spend so much time alone with a woman, and he'd never felt the inclination to either. So what was it about Elizabeth Weir that gave him that inclination, that strange need to be around her at every possible opportunity?
He barely registered passing Sgt. Bates on his way to the kitchens, snapping out of his reflective thoughts to acknowledge his 2IC. Thankful there was still some turkey left from the latest supplies courtesy of Earth, John fixed himself a sandwich, flicking on the kettle to make some coffee. As he poured his drink, he grasped a second cup and made Elizabeth an Athosian tea. Why it felt oddly domestic to be making Elizabeth a drink whilst she worked in his room he wasn't sure. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted some little pink cakes, which made him immediately think of Elizabeth's much loved sugar-rushes that she'd mentioned one night. He was pretty sure it was a girl thing, same with chocolate – although McKay certainly had the same withdrawal symptoms from their lack of sugary foods as Elizabeth. Pilfering the a few of the little treats, John balanced the two mugs, his sandwich and the bag of cakes in his hands and set off back to his room.
When he reached his door he found his companion back in her previous position huddled over her computer on the bed, one long dark-blue clad leg bent off the mattress and the other curled under her. Her right hand was toying with the cord on her sweatshirt as she looked up, her eyes lighting up in surprise as she saw what he was carrying.
"Midnight snacks." He told her by way of explanation, setting the snacks on the end of the bed before handing her the cup with the tea in. "Thought you might want some of that tea you like so much."
"Oh, John, that's so sweet of you." She told him sincerely, beaming at him for his thoughtfulness. "I'm beginning to think you read minds."
He grinned back at her, biting down on a cheeky comeback, unsure if there was still a slight tension between them or if he was imagining it. "Those are for your nightly sugar-rush." Pointing to the bag of cakes and enjoying the laugh she made at his disapproving tone.
"I simply prefer sugar to caffeine, Major." She told him indignantly, taking a sip of her tea as she watched him from behind the rim.
"I'm going to take that as an insult, Doctor, and say that if you get sugar-induced giggles in the next half hour don't expect me to keep the experience to myself." He shot her a self-satisfied smirk, biting into his precious turkey sandwich.
She laughed heartily at his threat, taking one of the pink cakes in her fingers and trying not to drop any of the icing onto John's bed. "What makes you think I giggle?"
"All girls giggle, Liz. Although I have to say it's not really all that embarrassing unless its in public and said girl has a laughing fit for no apparent reason." He explained with a wince.
"You know you're going to have to explain that now."
"What?"
"When that happened. It sounds like a defining moment in how you see the female species."
John shook his head with exaggerated horror. "Oh no, you don't get that story, Liz. If I told you I think it'd be a catastrophe of galactic proportions."
She fixed him with a disbelieving expression, waiting to see if his exaggeration meant he really wasn't going to explain. "Okay, fine. I'll just get back to the duty assignments for the next month. You like the graveyard shift in the control room, right?" Her face was the picture of innocence, as she looked him straight in the eye, the hint of an evil smile struggling to break through.
"Blackmail, Lizzie? Now that's just mean." He rewarded her with his best pout, puppy-dog eyes and all, but it seemed she wouldn't be swayed.
She sat back, her reports forgotten yet again as she folded her arms, giving him her finest withering look. "You're going to keep calling me that, aren't you?"
His grin was feral as he answered her. "Well I think it suits you."
"Yes, I'm sure everyone will take me seriously if you're calling me 'Lizzie' all the time," she replied sarcastically, hating herself for bending to his charm so easily.
"I think it'll catch on. I'm sure Bates wouldn't mind spreading the word." He finished his sandwich, unable to suppress his glee as her green eyes settled on him, clearly unsure if he was actually joking. Taking a sip of coffee, he reached for one of Elizabeth's cakes, only to get a sharp slap on his wrist. "Hey!"
"You can't hinder my sugar rush and call me that as well, John. It's just not possible." She explained with a narrowing of her eyes, the challenge evident as she took a deliberate bite of one of the pink treats.
"Is this one of your diplomatic relations exercises?" He retorted with feigned regret, a second before lurching forward and swiping a cake before she could react. "'Cause I can't promise anything."
She watched him enjoy his stolen sweet; deliberating whether to retaliate or be the peace-loving person she was when not in the presence of her mischievous 2IC. "You don't play fair."
John set his hazel eyes on her, his smirk as wicked as the glint in his eyes. "Lizzie, you don't know the half of it."
Don't worry Jacuzzi from chap 2 will be making a cameo next chap :op
