Disclaimers: I do not own these characters; this is written for fun, I make no money etc.

Spoilers: Rising, Home, The Storm, The Eye

A/N: Written for the McKay/Weir Ficathon 2006, in response to a challenge from dahan, to include a spilled drink, a secret hiding place, junk food, a mention of colored lighting. With many thanks to LittleKnux2008 for another great beta. This fic is not perhaps what was expected, but I'm pretty pleased, hope you like ;) Full details and links will be available at mcweir central forum. Daily posts here - 4 chapters, word count 4400-ish.

Summary: Elizabeth Weir had learned how to be economical with the truth. One day, she realises there is something she cannot hide. McKay/Weir - angst/drama/romance.


Chapter One

"Tell me again, Elizabeth." Her father was stern, unyielding.

The young girl blinked, and swallowed hard, but her voice was trembling. "I didn't take any, Father."

"Hold out your hands," he commanded, in his deep voice.

She slowly drew her small, pale hands from behind her back, and stretched them out in front of her; the little fists clenched tight, knuckles translucent with effort. Her huge hazel-green eyes bulged with a kind of fear.

"Open them."

As she turned her hands over, the forbidden chocolate was exposed, now warm, and the foil crushed.

The man threw back his head and laughed before bending down close to his daughter, to hiss into her ear, "Only fools get caught. You need to learn to hide things better."

Elizabeth stood stock still as she watched her father walk away, chuckling to himself and shaking his head. She blinked, and sniffed, but she never cried. When she was sure he had gone, she unwrapped the chocolate and ate it.

She was never caught again.

0o0o0

Simon slammed one hand down onto the kitchen worktop. "I don't want to hear it, Elizabeth!" He dragged the other hand through his short hair.

She put her bags down and removed her coat, almost indifferent to Simon's anger. "The conference was changed at the last minute. I didn't think you would be interested."

He almost growled with frustration. "No. Just don't! I've had it up to here with your… fabrications." They both knew he had almost said 'lies'. "You tell me you're in India, but you come back on the flight from the Philippines. Can't you be straight about anything? When do you ever tell me the truth? This isn't just about flights and conferences. Is there anything I really know about you? You… you tell me your favourite flowers are roses, but your mother says you like freesias better. How do I know what you really think?"

Elizabeth blinked. "I hardly think changing my mind about which flowers I like constitutes misleading behaviour. Besides, I didn't expect you to collect me from the airport. You're over-reacting."

"Am I?" he countered heatedly, "There must be dozens of other examples, I'm just too upset right now to list them all. Can't you let me in, Elizabeth? I'm supposed to be your partner, damn it."

"What are you t-talking about?" she stammered, begin to fix herself a drink. But in her heart, she knew.

"You treat me like a client. You twist everything so I'll hear what I want to hear," he sighed. "I don't want us to be this way." He laid a hand gently on her arm, causing her to freeze on the spot.

"I'm a good diplomat, Simon," she whispered, looking at the floor. "That's who I am."

He sighed again, and put his arms around her, "I know," he breathed, "I just wish I knew who you really were, but I don't think you even know yourself."

TBC