A/N: Usual disclaimers. Not mine.

A/N: I have to finish three real papers before I get back to this, so the next update will be awhile. And thanks for the kind reviews.

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Dawn

The following week was a continuation of the previous except that John was released from the infirmary. Beckett, along with John's team, his father and Elizabeth, hoped that getting out of the infirmary would help with the depression. John was in a sling for his shoulder and could get around fairly well. His eyesight, however, was still causing problems. He could distinguish shapes, and they were brighter than before, but the lack of acuity was debilitating. He could not read, use his laptop, or even watch DVDs very long. His team still kept him company and they, with his father and Elizabeth, made sure he had what he needed. They tried not to leave him alone.

The problem was boredom, and the boredom was threatening a return of the depression. Since his shoulder could take as long as 12 weeks to completely heal, the time off duty was necessary. That still didn't make it palatable to a man who was used to action.

Dr. Kate Heightmayer tried to get John to talk, but he had become quiet again after his breakdown in the infirmary. That left his team, his father, Beckett, and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth continued to take the early morning shift being especially concerned that he not wake up in the dark. As a result, she had been present when the nightmares began. At first, she thought he was just restless. As time passed, however, he would begin to cry out. Most of the nightmares hovered around the point at which he saw the wraith prepare to feed on his father. He had awakened several times at this point, thrashing about when he couldn't get his bearings because he couldn't see. At those times, it was her hands on his brow, and her soothing words, that quieted him.

He hated her to see him like that. After one such episode, he closed his eyes and turned away from her. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly.

"Don't be, John. You experienced something horrific. We all have our own nightmares."

She moved over from her usual place on his chair to the side of his bed. He felt the bed sink with her weight but did not turn toward her. Seeing his reluctance, but not sure if it was embarrassment or something else, she reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his. She was a little surprised at the strong grip she received in return.

"Yeah, but everyone else's nightmares aren't for public consumption."

Elizabeth began stroking the back of his hand. "Maybe not, but they affect us all the same. Beckett has become my dealer for sleeping pills."

He turned back toward her slowly. She had put on a dim light when he first reacted to the dream, so she could see his face. He looked in her direction, but there was still no focus, no light in his eyes. There were new lines of stress, but she wasn't sure if they were a reaction to physical or emotional pain. She realized she hadn't seen him smile in quite some time. Reacting to his appearance, she reached over to smooth his hair back from his face with her free hand.

As he felt her touch on his face, he realized yet again how much her concern meant to him. "Elizabeth, thank you for being here," he whispered.

She got up from the bed and leaned over him. For just a moment, he thought he felt the brush of her lips on his forehead. "Go back to sleep, John," she said, returning to her chair.

He closed his eyes, calmed his mind, and tried to think only of Elizabeth as he dozed off.

One morning toward the end of that week, Elizabeth was heading to John's quarters with a tray of toast, oatmeal, and juice. She had begun the habit of going to the mess hall to get John's breakfast while he showered. That way, she helped in the effort to be sure he was eating without smothering him with the constant watching that had characterized his recent weeks in the infirmary.

She opened the door without knocking, a habit all of them had developed with John's care. When she peeked in, however, he wasn't in his bed. She listened, but the shower wasn't running, and he was no where in the room. She set the tray on the desk, trying to think where he could be. After a few minutes, she made her way to the closest balcony. As she suspected, John was leaning on the railings, dressed in the sweats and t-shirt he'd been sleeping in.

"Good morning, John," she said, to be sure he knew she was there.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he replied, with his face turned up to the sky.

"Ready for breakfast?" she asked, coming over to stand next to him.

She looked at his face when he didn't respond immediately and noticed a few tears at the corner of his closed eyes. Worried, she placed her hand on his arm. "John, are you OK?"

He turned to face her, then. He opened his eyes, glistening with unshed tears and gave her a huge smile.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" he said, gazing into their green depths.

"No," she began, then stopped, gripping his arm harder. He was looking at her, focusing on her. "John, can you see my eyes?" she breathed, hardly daring to hope.

He nodded, and his smile turned into laughter. "YES!" he yelled, reaching out and grabbing her around her waist with his good arm.

"Thank God," said Elizabeth, throwing her arms around his neck as he twirled her.

He set her down then, with a slight grimace. "Don't tell Beckett I did that," he said, leaving his arm around her and still looking into her eyes.

She laughed then and hugged him again. "It will be our secret."

She pulled back, a beaming smile on her face that matched his. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear then bent down and kissed her gently.

Elizabeth was surprised and stiffened, and John pulled back, dropping his eyes. "Sorry about that, guess I got carried. . ."

He didn't get to finish because Elizabeth placed her hands on his face and quite deliberately kissed him. John closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her lips, pulling her closer as she slipped her arms around his waist and the kiss intensified.

The sound of someone clearing his throat caused them to jump apart, and they looked back at the door to see Edward Sheppard with a half smile on his face. "Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything. Are we celebrating something?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth, with a smile that gave it away. "John can see."

Edward's face broke into a matching grin and he came over and hugged his son, then hugged Elizabeth, twirling her again. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he said, "That's great!" He glanced over at John. "I'm going to head to the mess hall. There are some very anxious people who will be glad to hear your news. See you there soon?" he asked.

They nodded. He hugged Elizabeth again, slapped John on his good shoulder, and left the balcony with a spring in his step.

John grinned at his father's retreating back, shaking his head, before he looked over at Elizabeth. She was regarding him with speculation in her gaze, and John remembered the interrupted kiss. Suddenly uncomfortably shy, he said, "Um, we should probably talk a little later."

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Actually, I've been waiting for a chance to discuss some things with you."

He raised an eyebrow, wondering if she had finally read the policy changes and realized what they might mean.

"Well, I've been in the infirmary for three weeks, so I can't be in trouble, so I guess that's OK. Why don't I come by and get you for dinner?"

"That sounds good," she said, leading the way off the balcony. "What are you planning on doing today with your regained ability?"

"Well, I need to get Beckett to check this out so maybe I can return to light duty. Then I thought I'd catch up on a little paper work and read some more War and Peace."

"Good, but Beckett might not want you on light duty yet."

"Well, I plan to talk him around. After the last few days, even paper work sounds exciting."

"Hmmm, you must still be sick," she said, smiling as he poked her for the comment. "Are you going to go to the mess hall like that?" she said, looking at his sweats with one eyebrow raised.

"Oops," he grinned. "Guess I need to clean up a little. So should I keep the beard?" he asked, one hand rubbing his three day stubble speculatively while he smirked at Elizabeth.

She raised one eyebrow. "Far be it from me to interfere with such a decision. I'll tell everyone you're on your way. Hurry," she added, with another smile as she turned to the mess hall.

When John finally reached the mess hall, his team broke into spontaneous cheering causing him to smirk at their demonstration.

"'Bout time you got out of bed and started doing something productive," griped McKay, hiding his own relief at John's recovery. "Of course, now you will have no excuse not to come help me in the lab," he finished, sopping up the last of the syrup with some toaster waffles as John sat down next to his father with his own breakfast.

"Workout?" queried Ronon.

"Not yet, I'm afraid," said John with a grimace.

"I should think not, Colonel," said Dr. Carson Beckett, approaching the table with his own food. He glanced at John and then looked closer. "I knew it was only temporary," he said with a broad smile. "I expect you to stop by the infirmary so we can do a checkup today."

"I know, Carson," said John, almost but not quite whining.

Breakfast continued like that, with many of John's men coming by to congratulate him on his recovery. John, for the most part, took all the teasing and back slapping in stride, but he still tired easily, and a headache was developing to remind him he still had some issues with Beckett.

"Well, I'm off to the infirmary," said John, putting his trash on his tray and getting up to follow Beckett who had left earlier.

"Leave it," said Ronon, nodding at the tray. "Two hands," he added, waving his at John, making the point that John was still one-handed.

"OK, thanks," said John, getting to his feet. He looked over at Elizabeth. "I'll stop by later.

"Fine."

"OK, just be sure you're finished," warned John as he walked away.

Elizabeth shook her head and turned back to her yogurt.

Beckett gave him another round of vision tests and pronounced that part of his recovery complete. "But Colonel, you still need to take it easy on the shoulder. No training, working out, running, lifting or anything else strenuous for the next six weeks."

John grimaced at the limitations, but he could feel his own weakness and figured he would need some of that time. Before he could say anything, Beckett continued.

"Colonel, I can tell your mood has improved with regaining your vision, but I'm still concerned about how this affected you. I won't clear you for duty until you've talked to Dr. Heightmeyer."

John grimaced even more and sighed. "You know I hate that."

"Aye, I know, but I think you owe it to yourself and your team to be sure you've handled whatever issues caused your depression."

"I thought that was obvious: being blind."

Carson nodded. "Aye, and everything seems fine. Humor us, lad, and let us be sure you're completely sound."

John nodded, resignedly. "Is flying OK, now that I can see?"

Beckett looked suspicious. "Flying? As in a jumper? Not on a mission."

"No, not a mission. I was just thinking of taking Dad up again before he leaves."

"Oh, well, if it's just straight up and only for a few hours, it should be fine. Mind, no going off world or even to the mainland."

"And light duty, right?"

"As long as you remember the definition of 'light duty,' Colonel. Paperwork is fine; nothing strenuous."

John hopped off the examination table and bounced on his toes. "OK, nothing strenuous. See you later, Carson."

As he left, Carson Beckett wondered what loophole the colonel would find in those instructions.

John spent the next couple of days just catching up with things. He watched Ronon and his dad spar with Teyla and spent some time touching things in the lab for Rodney. He even tried to get through some of the paper work on his desk, but having only one hand made typing difficult. He also made a point of finding Elizabeth each evening and making sure she had some dinner. And they had talked each evening, but not about themselves.

On the evening three days after John regained his sight, Dr. Elizabeth Weir sighed, shut down her laptop, and moved to the balcony near her office. The sun was approaching the horizon, and she breathed in the salty air. She had decided she needed to start things, so she had reread the new fraternization policies yet again in preparation for asking John about them. To be honest, she was nervous, not knowing how such a conversation would go. She decided she would start with his objective view of the policies and then see if he wanted to lead the conversation to anything more personal.

"Stopping early for you, aren't you?"

Elizabeth jumped a little and looked back to see John Sheppard straighten from where he was leaning against the door and move to the railing next to her. He still had the sling on his left arm, but he looked even more relaxed than usual. They both looked out to the sunset.

"I promised Carson I would take it easy when he let me get back to work early, and I'm trying to keep the promise. The problem is the work piles up faster than a regular eight hour day can handle. Somehow no one allowed for sick leave or vacation or normal work hours when they told me to put this expedition together."

"You know, that paperwork will always be there." He turned to face her, noticing her profile seemed peaceful. The light of the setting sun set her hair glowing. "So, you're trying to change your habits?"

"Yes. Can't have the leader of the expedition collapsing for being stupid, can we?" she quipped. She glanced at him before looking again out to sea. "I know I have to find a balance. I'm just not sure the Pegasus galaxy is going to give me a chance."

They were both quiet for a moment, as the sun seemed to touch the horizon, lighting up a path across the ocean. With his sight restored, John couldn't seem to get enough of the view.

Elizabeth glanced at him and saw that he seemed much more at peace. He was wearing casual clothing and running shoes. The depression and stress of the blindness were gone, now, and he was eating better. Though the sling reminded everyone of his wound, he was obviously healing.

"Have you had a chance to review your email today?"

He looked over at her and smirked. "No, actually reading email is not high on my list of things I wanted to do. Why?"

'Well, it seems that the SGC has rewritten some policies specific to Atlantis, and I wanted your thoughts."

"Oh, those." His hand on the rail tightened. He had been wondering when this would come up and he hoped he said the right things.

"You knew?" she asked, turning to fully face him.

He gave a small snort. "Who do you think wrote them? General Landry had no reason to change something that worked on Earth and that he thought also worked on Atlantis."

That caught her off guard and she paused. "So you are behind the changes?"

"Yeah, they took some suggestions I had."

She considered his words. "And you thought the previous policies didn't work?" This was promising.

Oops, thought John. "Actually, I thought they needed some tweaking to reflect the nature of the mission and the staffing." Her turn.

Elizabeth backed off a bit to get her thoughts together. "How did you talk him into the changes?" Talking about how he convinced Landry would give her time to think of a way to bring up how the changes could affect them.

John began to blush, then turned pale. "Well, if you remember, I told you I negotiated."

"Yes, you told me you got a trip through the Stargate in exchange for agreeing to return to Earth when needed."

"Yeah, but that wasn't all of the negotiation." John stopped there. He still felt too uncomfortable to talk to her about the other concession he had made.

"The policies?"

John nodded. "He agreed to consider some changes I suggested. He accepted them before I left, so they were sent along with us."

"John what did he ask for?"

He sighed. "I'm uncomfortable telling you exactly what they wanted. Suffice it to say that I provided it. ."

She considered again what she had reread that afternoon. The changes were substantial and would change many relationships. He must be aware of the potential impact on their own relationship. But at what price? She moved to stand closer to him and put a hand on his good arm.

"John, what did you have to do for those changes?" she said softly but firmly, looking straight into his eyes.

He didn't answer at first, looking away from her to the ocean where the last rays of the sun were sinking behind the horizon. When he looked back, his face was pale in the twilight. "Yes, I had to do something for them, but I feel embarrassed and disturbed when I think of it. I would rather not talk about it right now. I promise to tell you eventually, but I'd like the embarrassment to fade some before I do. Please drop it, Elizabeth." He looked away from her again, and his arm under her hand was tense.

Elizabeth nodded though she thought he looked more upset than embarrassed. She fell silent. She moved her hand from his arm but did not move away from him. They both looked out at the sea, now reflecting the last orange and pink of the sunset in its ripples. The tension between them eased somewhat, but the question of their relationship was like an elephant in the room. Finally, Elizabeth got her thoughts together and decided to cut to the chase.

"These policy changes could affect many people on Atlantis."

John nodded. "I realize that. But as I explained to General Landry, people want to obey the rules, but some rules don't make sense so far from home. So rather than set up a situation of folks sneaking around, I told him it would be better to face the facts and work around them. We're in another galaxy. There is no real leave time to go home and check in on a family or maintain a relationship. But humans need support, and relationships will form. With the new policies, we will know where those relationships are forming and be in a position to protect the mission. If they were kept secret, their existence would become obvious at the worst possible moment. On the military side, where such relationships can get dicey in a combat situation, I can move people between teams so that a couple isn't faced with the types of choices that have to be made at the spur of the moment."

Elizabeth considered his words and thought they made sense, but she was suspicious. "That sounded rehearsed."

"Well, I had to marshall some arguments for General Landry, so, uh, I wrote it down." He looked a little sheepish.

Elizabeth was impressed. John had obviously put a lot of thought into these policies. It made her wonder if he had seen the seeds of relationships in some of the existing teams.

"OK, fine. But that doesn't explain the special section on the leadership."

John was silent for a long moment. This was what he was afraid of. "I thought that, well, since Atlantis is not strictly military, something should be said about the leaders."

Elizabeth nodded though she was getting frustrated at this little dance they were doing. She decided to stick her neck out a bit. "Did you have any specific examples in mind?"

It was John's turn to be silent as he considered his answer. "Um, maybe. I just thought that, given our tenuous status in this galaxy, some people might appreciate the opportunity to explore possibilities rather than risk leaving things unsaid."

Elizabeth flashed back to her time in the infirmary. John's words echoed those of Carson when he was encouraging her to take care of herself. Could John be worried about unstated feelings? She was quiet, again. Then she remembered the sexual harassment policy that was included in the packet.

Facing the ocean, dark now with just the twinkling of starlight, she commented, "You know, according to the sexual harassment policy, a supervisor should never make the first overture in a personal relationship with a colleague."

She kept staring at the ocean as she felt John tense beside her. "So, uh, that means you, uh, couldn't, um, make the first move."

She nodded. "If I want to pursue something, I have to show interest without looking like I'm forcing the issue. It's a tight line to walk, and one of the main reasons such relationships are frowned on in corporate and government circles." She carefully moved closer to him. "But I agree with you that here in Atlantis, such complete restrictions make no sense. We need to continue to guard against unwanted advances, but if both parties are interested, it would be better to be up front about it."

John looked down at her. Her curls were stirring in the evening breeze. Her face, however, was in shadow, and he wasn't sure he wanted to continue this conversation if he couldn't be sure of her reactions. Taking her hand, he moved her back toward the windows of Atlantis so he could see her face, but they would still have some privacy. Stopping a few feet away from the doors, he turned her to face him.

"Elizabeth." He paused again, looking away. This was so difficult! He finally looked back at her and found her eyes focused on him. He reached up, again, to tuck a curl behind her ear, and took a deep breath. "Elizabeth, is there, uh, a possibility that, um, you might want to, uh, would you consider, er, a, um, . . ." God, this was hard! He looked into her eyes. "Is there a chance for us?" There! He'd said it. He'd sounded like he was sixteen again, but he'd said it. Blushing, he closed his eyes so he wouldn't see her embarrassment. Instead, feeling her hand on his face, he jerked them open.

"Yes, please John," she said, smiling up at him then running her thumb over his lips lightly.

John didn't need to be told twice. He reached out to cup her face in his hand, feeling her turn into the caress. Moving her head just a little, he leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. As he moved away to be sure he hadn't misinterpreted something, he felt her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him back toward her. This time, her lips were on his, firm and confident. His hand slipped down her back and around her waist to pull her to him as he deepened the kiss.

When they came up due to a mutual need for air, he leaned his forehead on hers. "We should probably take this slowly," he said softly.

Elizabeth nodded back. "Do we want to be open about it?"

"How do you feel about that?" he said as he pulled her to him again. She snuggled up to his right side, one arm around his waist, and her head on his shoulder. He buried his face in her curls.

"Well, I'd like to keep things quiet for awhile, until we're used to each other. Even after that, I think we should be discrete. After all, we will be setting an example."

John smiled into her hair. "I guess this means no wild passionate kissing in the gate room, right?"

"Right," she said. He could feel her smile against him.

"What about less obvious PDAs?"

"PDAs? Personal digital assistants?"

"No, public displays of affection."

"Oh," she said, and pondered his question. "Well, none right away. Then maybe we can try out a few things like, uh, . . ."

"Handholding?"

"OK, handholding."

"Brief hugs?"

"Uh, well, maybe under certain circumstances, . . ."

"Carrying you off to the mess hall?"

"John!" she said, playfully punching his good arm.

He pulled her closer and kissed her again. Moving back, he sighed. "I really wish I had two good arms right now."

Elizabeth smiled, tracing his face with one finger. "Just another good reason to take it slowly." She paused at his lips, kissing him again, lightly. "You realize we will have to talk about a lot of things."

John sighed. "I know. And I think you realize I'm not good with these kinds of talks."

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, I got that impression."

John snorted. "Be nice."

"I'm always nice," she responded, leaning into him. "But there will be some serious questions and we have to be ready to answer them if they come up."

John was quiet for awhile, just relishing the feel of her in his arm.

"You know, the biggest question will be whether a relationship interferes with our ability to lead. We won't know that until we've been together for awhile. We'll have to prove it to the others."

She looked down. "Yes, I realize that." Then she looked him straight in the eye, a determination visible in her face. "But the alternative is never knowing. I've lived with that for too long."

"Me, too," he said, pulling her close and kissing her again.

The kiss grew somewhat desperate as each remembered the six weeks of uncertainty. Pulling back, he once again buried his face in her hair. "Don't forget what I said. I will always try to come home to you."

She clutched his shirt, burying her face in his chest while he stroked her back, placing light kisses in her hair.

Finally raising her face to him, she was about to say something when her stomach growled.

"Was that you?" said John, with a mischievous smile.

"Yes. What a way to ruin the moment," she said, sheepishly, leaning her forehead back against him.

"Um, that's OK, I think we were getting to a tough decision point anyway." John started stroking her back again, letting her know things were alright."

"Decision point?"

"Food or, uh, something else."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You have only one arm and you wanted to take things slowly."

"Hope springs eternal? Necessity is the mother of invention?"

"Bread is the staff of life. Come on. I'll even cut up your meat if you need it." She was smiling, and the joy in her face was tangible.

John smiled back, opening the door for them. "Sounds good. I'm not sure I like Ronon having a knife that close to me, anyway." They left the balcony, not hand in hand, but closer than they had been, and at peace with each other.

TBC

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