Episode Tag for "Common Ground"

Subdued light filtered into his vision as he finally opened his eyes and resigned himself to the simple fact that sleep would be an elusive commodity this particular night. This realization was not surprising to him, but rather a confirmation of earlier suspicions. After all, he had no idea what kind of an adrenaline boost he had received from the Wraith due to the influx of life given him that afternoon. John sat up slowly and dropped his head into his hands. One thing was for sure, he reasoned silently in the dim moonlight – there were many things about the Wraith they still didn't know. This latest encounter had left the military commander of Atlantis more shaken than he'd care to admit, even to himself.

Rising slowly, he made his way over to the door and resigned himself to a night of wandering the empty halls alone, which wasn't a particularly unusual event. The city was beautiful and even though he saw its brilliance every day, nothing compared to the splendor the night sky reflected on the water beneath them. He had always been the sort of person who preferred the darkness of night to the brightness of day, but since his time in Atlantis, this love for the twilight hours had grown significantly. And to add to the appeal of the planet's darkest hours was the ever present Ancient architecture, of which he would never grow tired of seeing.

He had been meandering almost aimlessly for about an hour when he spotted her. At first he thought his imagination was playing tricks on him and making him see things that really weren't there. However, the longer he looked, the more certain she was actually standing there, her back to him, and her gaze outward, toward the shimmering ocean. The new length of her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering softly in the pale light from the moon, in sharp contrast to the white, flowing shirt she was currently wearing.

John sucked in a deep breath, mesmerized by the beauty of this woman that filled so many of his thoughts and fantasies. Here in the late hour, he could stand and drink in the sight of her, unnoticed, for as long as he liked without anyone knowing, anyone judging. It was moments such as these that the reality of the dangers they faced everyday seemed to slip away from him, forgotten in the rush of emotions that he allowed to flow through him. And although they were few and far between, they were little sparks of hope in an otherwise frightening reality.

He wasn't really sure how long he stood there. But after a while, it became apparent to him that the woman he was watching had become quite cold, shivering in the cool night air and wrapping her arms around her body in an effort to warm herself. If he wasn't careful, she would soon decide it was time to leave the balcony and turn to find her second-in-command gawking at her. Blinking a few times, trying to encase this image of her in his mind forever, John turned regretfully to go.

Then an idea struck him, providing a far better option than merely leaving. He moved closer, slowly and quietly slipping his leather jacket from his shoulders and wrapping it around Elizabeth's shoulders. She jumped slightly at the sudden touch, but relaxed as soon as her amber colored eyes met his chocolate ones. Snaking her arms into the sleeves, she shot him a smile, one that he was sure had dazzled many diplomats into a false sense of security around the brilliant woman. He responded with one of his own quirky smiles, the corners of his lips pulling up slightly as he tilted his head downward in her direction, and his expression speaking volumes.

Elizabeth sighed and moved so that her back was once again toward him, watching the ocean as steadily as she had before he had arrived. John's smile disappeared as quickly as it had come the second he saw hers fade into the recesses of her cheeks, being replaced by a frown. Without a second thought, he stepped closer and slipped his arms under the coat, protectively moving to wrap them around her slim form.

Her first reaction was to stiffen in alarm, wondering what had possessed him to do such a thing. John froze in place, immediately stopping all movement, his hands immobile, almost impossibly glued to her side. Drawing in a deep breath, the usually logical leader of Atlantis weighed her options, for once not ignoring the familiar longing in her heart and came to a quick decision. Smaller hands covered his as she stepped back into his embrace and gently wrapped his arms around her middle, settling her own on top of them.

John felt as if his mind exploded in that instant, white light threatening to overtake his senses. Every part of him came alive, tingling at the very touch of this woman now leaning against his taller frame, her head so easily fitting into the crook of his neck, and the beautiful hair he had been admiring from the safe distance of the hall tickled his jaw ever so slightly. Never in a million years did John Sheppard think this possible. There, in his arms, her full weight leaning against him in the most trusting manner possible, was the woman of his dreams. And the best part? He wasn't even sleeping.

Standing in silence, reveling in their closeness, the two leaders of Atlantis enjoyed their solitude, their eyes both on the horizon. Elizabeth felt as if her heart wouldn't stop racing, but she enjoyed the thrilled sensation that was coursing through her veins. For years she had longed to feel this man's arms around her, holding her, keeping her safe. But their positions had never allowed for it. They still didn't, but she had grown weary of tiptoeing around unwritten rules and expectations, and even though she knew there were many who would object to what they were even now doing, she somehow found it hard to care.

She had nearly lost him today. Every time she had to watch that damned Wraith pound his hand against John's flesh, she had nearly lost control. She wanted to reach her hands through the screen and strangle Kolya herself. And even though John told her what the Wraith had done to save him, she still wouldn't have minded emptying a few rounds of bullets into him for good measure. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing the images to stop, and buried her face into John's neck.

Surprised, John looked down at the woman in his arms, finding it hard to believe that she was allowing herself to be this open and honest with him. He knew the tears were just lurking beneath the surface, a fact that prompted him to change their position slightly, turning her toward him and wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Her arms found his waist and clung tightly, but no tears came. She just stood there, eyes closed, taking deep breaths as if her life depended on it.

Finally, he broke the silence, "I'm okay, Elizabeth," he whispered tenderly, innately knowing the reason she why she was clinging so tightly to him. He knew how she was, how this woman operated, and he knew she blamed herself for what had happened to him. "You did the right thing," he added reassuringly.

She nodded against him, finally opening her eyes, but otherwise remaining still. "I know. But if you had died . . ." she trailed off, her soft voice hoarse, the vibrations from it shaking his chest slightly.

"I didn't," he answered firmly, his hold tightening around her body, hoping to provide some comfort. She nodded into his chest, her hair brushing his neck again. He drew in a sharply, and one of his hands somehow landed on her head, lightly stroking the soft strands. "I know how you feel," he mused ever so quietly, his feather-light touch on her hair soothing her immensely. "It's exactly how I felt when those damn nanites were invading your body . . . helpless."

She shook her head, glancing upward in disbelief. "But you saved me, John. You weren't helpless."

"Sure felt like it," he replied quietly. His gaze traveled downward, his eyes locking with hers, and the look exchanged between them was almost electric. Without a doubt, he knew that if he decided to, he could have leaned down and kissed her right then, and she would not have protested. It was all he could do to prevent himself from taking that step, his mind imagining her hand slipping seductively around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. But that was something he knew they could never have. For the sake of both of their positions here in Atlantis, for her job and the security of this city, that was a line that could never be crossed.

He swallowed hard and wrenched his eyes away from hers, looking instead up at the stars. His hand untangled itself from her hair, and his other moved innocently to her shoulder, desperately trying to find an innocent place to rest. Her eyes drifted to the railing, feeling as he emotionally distanced himself from her. She envied him for that, the ability to ignore his heart and focus on what needed to be done. Try as she might, she was never fully able to follow suit, the gravity of her emotions toward him influencing almost every decision she made, a constant reminder of her weakness. But she too had become rather adept at ignoring the pain until she was alone, a skill she had picked up along the way – she had to know how to effectively lie in order to become the effective diplomat and debater that she was.

And so, this was how things had to be, she reasoned to herself. On the one hand, she was grateful John had such respect for her that he guarded himself from her, but on the other she guiltily fantasized that one day he would throw off that restraint and allow himself to love her with abandon. Slowly she extracted herself from his arms and stepped back, putting some physical distance between them, even though it broke her heart to do so. She managed to smile, the dutiful leader façade falling so easily back into place as she slid her hands into the pockets of her black pants.

He smiled back, although his eyes still resounded with the pain she knew was echoing in her own soul. They stood there for a few minutes, neither one willing to move or speak, afraid it would shatter the illusion they had somehow managed to rebuild, the illusion of their platonic friendship and camaraderie. It was a deception they thought had their team easily fooled, but those who knew them well had their suspicions. After all, such bonds only go so far.

This time it was Elizabeth who regrettably broke the silence, as she tucked some hair behind her ear and regarded him carefully. "Good night, John," she whispered, willing her legs to move as she brushed by him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened that night.

He turned to watch her go, his eyes focused lower than they should have been as she walked away, back down the corridor from which he had come. After she was out of sight, his eyes found the balcony floor beneath his feet and remained there as he leaned against the railing, his mind replaying the events of the night over and over in his head. A small smile snuck up his cheeks as he closed his eyes and cherished the memory of her in his arms, one he knew would help him on many sleepless nights to come.

FIN.