DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'Stargate: Atlantis'. They're not my property.
The restaurant was small, as expected. Leaning in his chair with the quiet oriental music playing in the background, John tapped the empty glass gently while waiting. They had agreed on dinner earlier with Elizabeth's first choice being flatly rejected by him. The reason was simple: John was never too fond of fancy, ridiculously expensive restaurants. His suggestion of a cheaper, and as he added "a more fun" place prevailed. He smiled as the words from the guests around him were all in their native language. Not a single tourist, just the way he liked it. Another sight made him keep that smile. Long yellow pants and a simple green blouse were the choice of clothes for the woman who soon joined him; a small bag that she had over her shoulder looked rather out of place with the rest of her wardrobe. "No silk dress this time?"
She smiled. "It would've been nice if you gave me an address to the restaurant," Elizabeth told him. "Wasn't easy to find it, especially with a driver who spoke very limited English." She sat down on the chair opposite his.
John chuckled to this. "Well, the food here is pretty good. You'll forget about that soon enough," he told her.
"Hmm."
White wine and some stuffed peppers later, Elizabeth laughed again before she took a sip. John's prediction became true. "Sounds like an interesting place."
John smiled and put the last piece of the meal in his mouth to chew. "You've never been to Mongolia?" he asked before continuing to chew.
"No. I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't been to China either," she replied.
"That truly is a shame. It's one of the most beautiful places with some of the best people I've ever encountered."
"Oh, well, coming from someone with your travel experience, I trust you are right."
"Never mind all the archeological wonders it possesses," he said, drawing strange invisible objects with his fingers in the space before him.
"Mm…so, either they've paid you quite well to lure me there or China has settled nicely in your heart."
"A little of both." He chuckled. "With bigger emphasis on the latter."
She stared long and pleasantly at her companion. John saw this and kept her gaze. It felt good to see her again – a feeling, he sensed, was much stronger on her part for reasons he had understood after Elizabeth shared her turbulent few months since her return from Delonia.
"A place I should see."
"That's right. Oh!" John lifted his finger in front of him. "That reminds me." He reached down to his right side and picked up a small, black plastic bag. "It's for you." John gave it to Elizabeth.
"Hmm…" With a mischievous smile and her raised eyebrow, Elizabeth took the bag and set it down on her lap where she opened it. What she found inside stunned her for a moment as her lips parted without a sound. "Oh my…" she whispered and slowly removed the red dress from the bag and raised it to a level that wouldn't draw much attention. "This is…"
"Pure Chinese silk, yes."
She slowly shook her head and moved her left hand on the smooth fabric. "Beautiful."
He could tell the slight concern in her eyes. "It was a gift from a generous family in this small village where I stayed."
"Nice of you to remember me while being there then."
"To be honest with you, you didn't really cross my mind until I saw this dress. Kind of looks like the one Juliana never gave back to you."
"Oh this one is much better."
"Yeah?"
"Mmm. Indeed, quite generous of them," she said. Elizabeth placed the dress carefully back in the bag. "Thank you, John. It's beautiful."
"Ah, glad you like it." John crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
"Unfortunately, I…" Elizabeth scratched her neck gently and shyly.
John chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Elizabeth."
She smiled nervously and placed the plastic bag inside her own. "How did you learn Turkish, by the way?"
"Hm?"
"Well, first Krolevian, now Turkish….how-?"
"I like this place," he replied simply.
"You learned the language because you liked the country?"
"Yes. And the people."
"Good enough reason. Any other languages you're beginning to master?"
"You'll see."
Elizabeth looked strangely back at him. "What does that mean?"
"It means, I like to surprise you."
Her face lifted itself high along with her eyebrows before she nodded slowly with a smile. "A man who doesn't want to give up many secrets so easily."
John kept his smile and said nothing to this.
She took a deep breath and then took her glass of wine. "Nice to know that the last few months have better for you, at least."
"Yeah, sorry to hear the shit you went through. Who knew archeologists could be so vicious in their field."
Elizabeth took one last sip of the wine. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
"Somehow, that's easy to be believed," John replied to which he received a slight smile from her.
She was quiet for a while, thinking about something. "Some events I couldn't say," her words came out.
"About?"
"The Bronze City. Despite the lack of evidence… there were events I wanted to tell about but couldn't."
"I don't get it."
"My memory shut down."
"Like during the lecture?" He saw her nod. "No idea why?"
She sighed. "None whatsoever. Also..." Elizabeth pulled out a black notebook from her bag. "Read it," she told him.
Looking at her strangely, John took the notebook. "What's this?"
"Dreams. At first I didn't make much of them, but the themes that flowed through them appeared awfully familiar."
John opened the notebook and began to read the few text-filled pages.
"Wow," he whispered to some of the descriptions of a more sensual nature.
"The third dream?" Elizabeth asked.
"Mm. You're sure these could be –"
"Yes," she quickly told him. "My subconscious fantasies they are not. Not the kind of methods I would prefer."
"Maybe they should be," he said and looked over at her.
"Maybe in another lifetime."
John smirked and continued reading the rest. "Well, this is weird."
"I know."
"When did you start having them?"
"Right after my headache went away."
"Only six?"
"The only ones I managed to remember..." she confessed. "They felt almost like memories to me."
"How often did they occur?"
"Every night..."
He looked down at the notebook. "You think Juliana might have done something else to you?" John asked.
"Maybe."
John turned the page. "This one doesn't sound pleasant."
"The last one?"
"Yeah."
"It was a nightmare. I've had some in the past but this one just took the cake."
"Was it that bad?"
"It was horrible," she said quietly and almost absently.
His green eyes looked up at her. "Are you okay now?"
"I'm fine."
John could see how relieved she was to be able to share this with him. He understood her reasons all too well. "Alright." He called for the waiter shortly after. "Baklava alabilir miyiz lütfen?" John closed the notebook. "I ordered us some dessert," he then told Elizabeth.
"Good." She sighed. "Good."
"Why don't you just quit?" he then asked her.
"Quit what?"
"Your job at the institute?"
She looked at him as if horns had suddenly appeared on his head. "May I ask why you are asking…suggesting that?"
"From what you've told me, it doesn't sound like it's the best place to be."
"Oh, no, that…" she chuckled nervously, "wasn't my int-"
"But it sure sounded like it."
Her big eyes shimmered softly in the dim-lit restaurant. "Well," she glanced down at her lap. "There's one problem with that."
"Which is?"
"I love my job. And… I have family in Toronto." Elizabeth looked up at him.
"I wasn't suggesting you should leave Toronto, Elizabeth."
She smiled briefly. "Like I said, I love my job."
"You didn't say you loved your job there."
"John!" She warned him, appearing agitated by his persistence over this.
He shrugged. "O-kay." The dessert was brought to their table not long after.
She stared at the rhombus-shaped desert before her, calming down gradually. "And what is this called?"
"Baklava."
"Huh." She parted away a slice to taste it. "Mm, not bad." Elizabeth quickly took another slice. "Anything else I missed on that you'd like to tell me about?"
"Well, Leko and Maya have a son now."
"Ah, congratulations."
"Thank you. They named him Gord."
"Good choice for a name."
"That's what I said, too."
Her pace was quick even after she entered her chamber. She could hear his fast footsteps behind her. They stopped, the door was closed and then, slowly they came closer. "Are you certain what you said back there was the correct choice?" he asked her.
"Yes."
He was silent for a while. "This will damage our relations, Destiva," he reminded her.
"They were never good, Gord." She turned and threw him a look before walking away to remove her long red cloak.
"Threatening them with war was supposed to 'improve' those relations?"
"Someone had to remind them. For centuries they have not been able to keep a truce for more than thirty days. I had to convince them to stay with this peaceful decision we reached…. Over and over again…" She sighed and placed her hand on the large head of the cat lying next to her bed and began stroking the thick fur gently. "It is growing tiring for me."
"It was not a wise move."
She stopped, her back turned to him. "Only because you share my bed, it does not give you the privilege or right to question my decisions," she told him, her voice cold. "It is only a warning. Should they choose to disturb the peace yet again…" her hand touched the paw, her fingers revealing an inch of the giant claw. "I will not be in the mood to help them reach anymore peaceful solutions." She then stood up and walked over to the brass bowl.
"You know very well you would never find an army of men and women to attack in that way."
"I was not speaking of a human army," she replied quietly.
But it was not something Gord managed to hear. "They do not deserve to have a threat of that kind become reality."
"Oh, you believe that, Gord? You believe it is better for those undeveloped life-forms to continue with their primitive wars, so my people can not venture out of this city freely?"
"Their new leaders show promise –"
She hurried over to him. "Stop conjuring up excuses for them!" she hissed at him. "For generations we have tried to convince them that peace is better, to stop their bloodshed, to help them…But it is not good enough! They are too violent! Their desire for domination is too great to be settled with any stupid treaty!"
He was startled by the anger in her eyes. "You will not find an army here to launch an offensive on them should they choose to break this last treaty."
She then smiled. "Oh but I already have."
"Who?"
She glanced over at the large cat next to the bed. When she looked back at him, his gaze was one of shock and disbelief.
"You cannot be serious."
"I have no reason not to be."
"It is not their role."
"But it will be."
"No." When she returned to her bowl, he continued, "You cannot do this. You know they cannot win against the Protectors."
"It depends on them now. If they keep this peace, I will not need to," she said with confidence.
"Ever since you returned from your journey you have been different…What has happened to you?" he asked with hidden worry.
"Oh." She glanced down at her hand where a thick color of black emerged quickly from her palm, caressing the pale skin before burrowing back inside again. "I came across new things worth exploring."
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she looked down at empty and thinner notebook; the scarce light of the moon fell on the bare skin that had nothing to cover it. After she was finished, the notebook was closed and placed back in the drawer along with the black-ink pen. Sitting again with her bent legs beneath her, she took a deep breath and allowed her eyes to focus loosely on the night sky and clouds floating on it. It had been a good night tonight. She could tell how pleasant Elizabeth felt during the entire meeting; her guard had lowered, her muscles eased, she appeared more relaxed. It felt so good for Elizabeth to talk to John again, feeling no one else could understand her when she had needed it. It didn't go beyond the meal. There was no dance, no stroll, nothing like the last time. They said they would see each other in the morning perhaps, if Elizabeth had been thinking straight.
She rubbed her palms slowly against each other. She should have felt guilty for what she would be forced to put this poor woman though... But she had no choice. She didn't want to die in that hideous prison. Her eyes looked over at the small trash can where tiny pieces of torn paper almost filled the small thing completely. Some memories should only be temporary...
She could have helped her with the tomb, but for her own reasons she remained silent. Time was not right for it, and the apathy she developed towards that place had remained strong.
A knock on the door caused ripples in the silence. She turned her head to the door. The knock repeated itself. "Who could be..." she whispered. The knock repeated. Covering her naked body with the green robe, she hurried to the door. Her hand touched the surface, as she decided to wait for a second longer. A fourth knock followed. She unlocked the door, then opened it to find him standing in the hallway. His clothes hadn't changed. In fact, nothing had changed about him. She watched him with surprise. He wouldn't notice. No one had noticed before. She could fool him just as easily. "John?" she asked. Without a word, he rushed passed her. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
"Close the door," he said when he stopped in the middle of the hotel room.
Quietly, she did. Afterwards, she approached him. "What's going on?"
John turned around making her realize that she had approached him a little too closely. He suddenly grabbed her wrists and shoved her back until her back was pressed against the orange wall. "What are you doing?" she demanded. He held her back so tightly that she could barely move.
"It has been too long," he spoke to her in a language she hadn't heard for centuries. But she stood behind her cover.
"What?"
"I know... you..." he tightened his grip on her, "...can understand me!"
His breathing was more intense to match his dark gaze. But that had been a gaze of someone else she once knew.
"I don't think this is any way to treat a woman, John! Let me go!" she insisted.
"I am not John," he told her and then yanked her away, only to spin her around and have her back glued to his chest as his arms held her tightly. "And as I recall, it is very unlike her royal highness to walk away from a rich meal with her beloved without a dance."
In the darkness, she suddenly froze. How could he know that? How could he even know a language that not even today's descendants could speak? It couldn't be. "Who are you..."
His embrace was tight enough for his left hand to effortlessly slip beneath her robe, his fingers traveling down to the curve of her breast. "You know who I am, Destvia." His lips spoke close to her neck.
She felt silent, thoughts spinning endlessly. "It cannot be," she whispered. But when his hand removed itself from the warmth close to her chest, to travel down to a path exposed by her bare leg, it weakened her enough to send a confirmation. "How is..." she moaned quietly. He always had known where to touch her. "How is it possible?"
"Its death allowed me a safe..." His hand touched deeper. "...passing."
She pressed her head back with her eyes closed and lips that stretched to a smile. "Gord," she breathed out his name before a pleasurable moan escaped her. Destvia pushed his hand away in time to turn around and jump on him, wrapping her legs and arms around him. "Your spirit survived!"
He smiled at her. "I was granted a last farewell in this world."
"But…" she watched him intensively. "How did he allow it?" she asked about John.
"He still slumbers." His hand took a strand of her hair close to her cheek and played slowly with it as he spoke with a low voice. "And the 'medicine' she gave to him, the one she believed would 'cure' him."
To this, she grinned. She knew the true purpose of what Elizabeth had given to John to heal his wounds. "To prepare his body for your arrival…You knew…"
"I watched them."
Her fingers passed over his moist lips, as her eyes never moved from his. "There is still hope," she heard him whisper in a voice different to her lover's but in a manner which sent tame shivers through her body. His lips then captured hers to begin a journey to pleasure both had missed for centuries.