Ooookaaaaay. Long chapter. Here it is. I hope you enjoy!
Emma sat on Lacey's bed as Lacey completed the finishing touches of her makeup.
"Just suck it up, let go, and let it happen," Lacey sighed, running mascara along her long lashes.
"I can't do that," Emma argued.
"Of course you can!" Lacey exclaimed, turning around, "Your logic is circular: you're saying you can't let go because you can't let go."
"Or your logic is circular," Emma countered.
"Touchée, madam," Lacey hissed, turning back to the mirror. "He makes you happy. Let yourself be happy. I don't get what your problem is."
Emma didn't say anything and stared down at her hands in her lap.
"My mum always told me to do what made me happy, no matter what. And I do. Plants and men make me happy," she smiled, "So I study plants and do men," she said as she grabbed a few condoms from her nightstand and shoved them into her clutch. "Mother knows best."
"Who are those for?" Emma asked, standing up and following Lacey.
"Nosy," Lacey chastised.
"Sorry," Emma apologized, putting her hands up in the air.
Lacey winked at her. "Evan's supply ran out," she explained.
"Wait, you and Major Lorne are still together?"
"Yes," she replied, pretending to be offended, "I didn't want to just…what's the phrase… 'hit it and quit it.'" The words sounded completely foreign to her normal vernacular.
Emma mocked her accent, lightly jabbing her in the ribs.
"I like him," Lacey smiled, "And he likes me. It's like a Lifetime movie," she said dramatically.
Emma looked back at her and smiled, too. "And of course you're wearing black," Emma observed.
"Black looks good on me," Lacey said proudly, her head held high.
"Anything looks good on you," Emma qualified.
"This is true," Lacey agreed, then shot Emma a playful smirk. Her eyes widened. "Lady in Black! That could be the name of my autobiographical Lifetime movie."
"Botanist in Black," Emma suggested.
"Ooh, I like it," Lacey cooed in her low, sultry voice.
Ronon met Sheppard, dressed in his cadet blues, at the top of the stairs. "Look at that," he said proudly, surveying the new suit, "Not too bad. Fits well. I like the vest, too," he nodded, looking at Ronon's own vest underneath the coat. "Hey where's the tie?" he asked.
"I couldn't button the neck," Ronon answered.
"Damn," Sheppard whispered to himself, "Rookie mistake."
"Teyla didn't like it," he smirked, telling the truth.
"Ah, Teyla, ruining my artistic vision," he ruminated, "So, have you seen her yet?" he enquired, wasting no time.
"She's over there," Ronon indicated, gesturing down the stairs and across the room with his chin.
"In the light blue?" he asked.
Ronon nodded.
"No time like the present," Sheppard sighed, walking down the stairs by himself, "I'm going to go talk to her," he announced, his eyes on a woman in red.
She laid her eyes on him on the stairway landing, talking to Colonel Sheppard. Her heart started pounding as she wondered when he arrived and how long he had been there. He had never looked more handsome than he currently did in his black suit, leather vest, and partially unbuttoned white shirt. The suit contrasted so starkly with his normal mode of dress, dreads, and personality, she at first expected the combination to look comical, but she was proved wrong. His head bowed in her direction and she nearly pulled a muscle in her neck turning away from him. Lacey was next to her, standing on the tips of her toes, scanning the crowd for Major Lorne.
"I wonder where Dr. McKay and Dr. Keller are going," she mused to herself. "Oh," she gasped, "He's coming this way," she whispered.
"Major Lorne?" Emma asked.
"No, Ronon," she whispered again.
Emma's stomach did an uncomfortable backflip. "I need to leave," she declared, feeling like she would throw up any second.
Lacey grabbed her wrist. "No. Stop running and just face it," she sternly reprimanded, her icy blue eyes piercing into Emma's. "Say whatever you have to say to him. God! Get it over with."
Emma stopped in her tracks and nodded slowly, taking a steadying breath in. She felt a warm hand on the small of her back and she turned around to look at him. "Ronon," she greeted, "What is it?" she asked in a whisper.
"Can I talk to you alone?" he asked.
Time stopped. She could hear the gears in her mind creaking. Sadness clouded his hazel eyes as they looked down at her. The heat from his hand on her back was radiating through her body. "Sure," she nodded with a hoarse voice.
Together they walked out of the room in silence. Emma glanced back and saw Major Lorne making his way to Lacey, kissing her cheek as their hands connected.
"How are you?" he asked awkwardly as they walked.
"Fine," she answered shortly.
Silence.
He led her onto one of the outdoor balconies overlooking the ocean. "How have you been?" she timidly asked back.
Silence again.
"What is it?" she spoke again, knowing the answer.
"You've been avoiding me," he bluntly accused.
"Yes, I have been," she answered honestly.
"Why?" he asked firmly.
"It's just…us…we're not working out," she stammered.
"What do you mean?" he asked, shaking his head with incomprehension.
"I don't think you and I are…are good for each other," she lied.
"Why not?" he retorted defensively.
She turned her back to him, looking out at the sea, and muttered something about personalities being incompatible, rushing things between them, and not having time. She couldn't bear to look into his eyes.
"That's bullshit!" he shouted, laughing bitterly.
"Just let it go," she whimpered.
"No," he growled.
Without thinking, she lashed out. "I can't!" she shrieked, rounding on him.
Completely taken aback by her response, he took a step backwards from her.
She turned her head again and felt tears stinging her eyes as she fixated on the breaking waves, her back to him. "I—I can't—" she repeated resolutely.
She heard his footsteps slowly approach her. He laid his suit jacket over her shoulders.
"I can't fall for another guy like you," she said, silent tears now falling uncontrollably down her cheeks.
"What do you mean?" he asked quickly.
"The big, strong, angry type, I just can't! I can't let myself get trapped in another situation like that!" she shouted at the waves.
"Another? What are you talking about?" he pressed on, trying to keep his tone level.
"I saw you hit Cpl. Hanson a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind," she confessed, wiping the tears from her face.
"Yeah, well he deserved it," he argued.
"I don't care," she shook her head, "I can't do it again."
"Again? What are you saying?" he asked, his voice raised.
"Don't yell at me," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, lowering his voice again. "Emma, please just tell me what's going on," he begged.
The floodgates broke. Tears fell in torrents and she couldn't hold it back anymore.
Ronon suddenly felt like he had delved too deep. He didn't know what to do, other than watch her, helpless.
She finally gained the ability to speak through her tears. "I've been with so many guys like you. Men who lose their tempers quickly and I've always been on the receiving end of it. I've been in more abusive relationships than I care to admit, because I don't understand how or why it keeps happening to me!" she confessed, her entire body heaving with each labored and tearful breath, "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me that I keep letting this happen?" she asked angrily, trying to swallow. "I've been…hit so many times. I've been kicked so many times. I've been choked more times than anyone should be and I just don't want it to happen anymore!" she yelled, breaking down into sobs. "That's why…I have this scar…" she revealed through ragged breaths, holding tightly to her wrist as the memory replayed vividly in her head, "One guy hit me with a beer bottle and it shattered and he just kept hitting me with it and I put my arms over my face to protect myself and I started to bleed and he just kept—" she wheezed loudly, impeding her speech. She reached into her clutch and pulled out her inhaler, taking a breath in, then wept, unable to speak anymore. She covered her face with her hands, ashamed that Ronon was witnessing her like this.
Ronon immediately took her into his arms and pulled her to his chest, running his hand up and down her back. His temper was never something he had control over, but he had never hit a undefended woman either. On Sateda, domestic abuse like the kind she experienced was both rare and considered a capital offense. Apparently, things were different on Earth. "Emma," he spoke quietly, "I can't promise I'll never lose my temper," he began, "but I can promise that I will never lose it with you. You will never see that side of me. I would never do that to you; I could never do that to you."
"I like you so much," she admitted, still crying into his chest, "but I've been told that before and I can't keep believing it." She looked up over his shoulder. "That's the cycle," she hissed bitterly, "That's the vicious cycle. First you walk on eggshells trying to escape conflict – t-to escape a beating," she yelped, "and when that doesn't work because it never works," she muttered, "you get hit, and then he comes apologizing and begging at your feet saying how sorry he is and how bad he feels and then it starts all over again and then I end up getting hurt again and again and ag – "
"Please, Emma," he whispered, interrupting her, "I'm not like those men, I promise. You have to believe me," he begged. "I won't lie; I can be like that. I can be like that in battle situations or when other people's lives are being threatened or when my life is in danger, but that's because I've been trained to be like that. I swear I will never act that way towards you," by now, she was staring up at him and he was looking her square in the eyes. "I've been betrayed before by people who were close to me, too, and – and I would never want anyone to feel the way I did … especially not you." He paused, studying the features of her face. "You have to trust me," he said in a low voice as he wiped a tear from her cheek.
"I have to protect myself," she whispered, starting to shake. He steadied her with his forearms. "You have to understand. Please understand," she cried.
"Let me protect you," he countered, speaking softly.
"Why are you trying so hard?" she asked weakly, shaking her head.
"Because…because I care for you a lot more than you realize," he said honestly, "I know I don't show it, but…" He stopped midsentence. "Do you hear that?" he asked, completely changing in attitude.
She sniffed and listened carefully. A loud humming sound was getting louder and higher pitched. Suddenly, with a flash of dark purple light, a small aircraft whined directly over their heads.
"That's a Wraith dart," Ronon affirmed as he pulled his gun out from the waistband of his trousers, springing into action and taking her hand in his. She stopped him and he looked back at her to find her pulling her loud and clumsy shoes off. They sprinted back inside to the others, only to be stopped in their tracks. Several Wraith had everyone in the base surrounded in what looked like a hostage situation. Ronon and Emma turned around, unseen, and sprinted down another corridor and into a transporter.
"Where are we going?" she enquired, her face still red, but no longer crying.
"Armory," he stated, pressing the screen, "Can you shoot a gun?" he asked.
She sniffed again. "I'm from a ranch in the middle of Texas. I've been shooting coyotes with a .22 gauge since I was seven," she replied.
"I'll take that as a yes?"
The doors reopened.
"You can take that as a hell yes."
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