Chapter 2: Observations

"Offworld Activation!" Chuck barked into Elizabeth's ear.

A wince and a dirty look later, he added in a decidedly lower voice, "It's the SGC, Ma'am."

She nodded, biting back a grin. She was actually really looking forward to seeing the General again on what appeared to be nothing but a relaxed send-off into normal operations. She had liked him and his quirky sense of humor from the start, whe she had still been his superior at the SGC, and it would be all the more welcome in her current state of mind.

Speaking of which…

She sensed rather than saw or heard someone step onto the arcade beside her, a sudden rise of tension in the air.

"Colonel."

"Dr. Weir."

A glance towards Sheppard revealed that he had assumed parade rest, pretty much the stiffest posture she had ever seen him in. The trademark smirk and quip were also missing in action. Oh boy.

Elizabeth tapped her radio. "General, step on through, you're most welcome."

The event horizon rippled and a frowning Jack O'Neill emerged from the electric blue. She couldn't help but notice that, despite their usual similarities (and there were to many to count), he was the opposite of John right now: wearing his old one-star BDU's (she'd been told they were custom made for him when he was still running the SGC) and carrying a briefcase and a duffel, he looked around the gateroom with a blank expression that, oddly, was almost comical,. Then his eyes found her. To anyone who didn't know him, he would seem more like an overgrown three year old with white hair and a uniform instead of a hardened soldier who almost single-handedly brought an end to the Goa'uld reign in the Milky Way.

Elizabeth guessed that this was not only part of his charm, but also among the main reasons for his success. People underestimated him, if not his physical prowess, then at least his intelligence – that way he was always one step ahead of them. But she had learned long ago that, easy going though he may be, Jack O'Neill was also as sharp and perceptive as they came.

"General!" she greeted him, making her way to the stairs. "Good to see you again."

O'Neill returned her open smile with his rather devious one. "Backatcha. No intergalactic crisis, viral outbreak, lifesucking aliens at the gate, I take it?"

Her grin widened. "Right now? Not that I know of."

"Good, then this should be short and sweet." He turned a little. "Sheppard."

"Sir." Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes when he actually saluted smartly.

Apparently, neither could O'Neill. "Nice one, Sheppard, the last time you did that was when I met you!" When John didn't move a muscle in reply, he frowned and went on. "I think since you did a fair job at saving my ass last week, let's just make the following a standing order: at ease!"

Elizabeth could have sworn she saw John's mouth twitch slightly at that, before he barked. "Yes sir." and assumed parade rest again. O'Neill just raised his eyebrows and Elizabeth thought it best to choose this moment to gesture both men to follow her up the stairs.

"If you would follow me, Colonel Sheppard has his team as well as Dr Beckett waiting in the briefing room. I thought you might like a chance to talk to all of them again before we get to the administrative part."

O'Neill just nodded distractedly. "Sure, great… um," He threw a quick look over his shoulder, before he mouthed to Elizabeth. "What's with him?"

Elizabeth just shrugged and fervently hoped that the heat in her cheeks didn't mean she was blushing. O'Neill shook his head slightly and went on. "Anyway, before we get in there – if I'm correctly informed, there isn't really much to do for us today apart from shoving a bit of paper, so… I thought I could get the two of you to unwind a bit for one night. Relaxed evening, kicking back a little before it's back to the treadmill… how about it? – I even brought beer!" He actually grinned like a little boy in a candy store as he lifted the duffel bag for emphasis.

Elizabeth had to grin. She knew there was a reason she liked O'Neill – this was his way of saying thank you. "Sounds great General. May I suggest the balcony over the south-west pier at 2000 hours? I'll have someone set up…"

"I'm sorry General, but I don't think I'll be able to make it." John interrupted her. Elizabeth suddenly felt cold. "I kinda have plans already."

O'Neill's eyebrows were slowly becoming very well acquainted with his hairline. "You sure? It's Guinness, you know." he said as if that changed everything.

Elizabeth was waiting for a tiny tell, a quick look in her direction, but nothing. John looked steadily at the General and just nodded. "Yes, I'm really sorry, but I couldn't possibly delay my… uh, plans."

"Right." O'Neill sighed. "Your loss. If you change you mind, you know we'll be…" He looked at Elizabeth.

"On the balcony overlooking the south-west pier." she provided helpfully, still scrutinizing her military commander.

"Exactly. 2000 hours."

John just gave a curt nod and Elizabeth's heart sank even further. "Yes sir. Shall we?"

The meeting was quick, as expected. The General thanked them all again for their efforts in saving the city, not forgetting to mention that next time, he'd appreciate to be kept in the loop about things. Elizabeth caught John's gaze a few times but the cold look in his eyes told her clearly that he had no intention of either explaining or changing his act in the near future. She might as well have tried to communicate with a wall. Eventually, she called in two SFs to show O'Neill to his quarters, where he could settle in before they met again in her office in half an hour to go over any administrative issues that were still unclear – including that infamous list of supplies.

As the team filed out of the room, Elizabeth took a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet. "John, a word?"

He'd already been half out of the door, but now he stopped dead in his tracks, smiling at Teyla who passed him with an apprehensive expression on her face. When they were alone, he slowly turned around.

"Ma'am?"

Elizabeth just shook her head. "John, I realize that spending an evening with me is not high up on your list of favourite things to do right now, but you could be a little more appreciative of General O'Neill's efforts to thank us. He didn't have to do that."

"As I told the General, I have plans that can't be postponed. I'm sorry, but since this is my spare time, I believe I am still allowed to spend it the way I choose to."

"Of course you are. I'm just saying, if this is about what happened last night…"

"Dr Weir," he interrupted her, his voice icy. "is there anything else you wish to discuss with me or am I free to resume my duties now?"

She actually winced and broke the eye contact. "No, that's all." It came out as no more than a whisper.

John, however, turned without any further hesitation and left the room. Consequently, he didn't see Elizabeth sink into one of the chairs and rub her face with her hands, frustrated. And he also didn't know how hard she had to fight back the tears, as she realized that she might have broken something precious beyond repair.

Twenty minutes later, John strolled down the corridor to Teyla's gym, ready to get the crap kicked out of him once again. He poked the door opening device with one of his fighting sticks, but upon entering, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Instead of warming up in her sparring gear, Teyla was sitting by the window, still wearing the normal clothes he'd seen her in at the meeting. Her sticks were lying on the floor in a far corner.

"John." When she saw him, her face was split by smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He frowned.

"Teyla? I thought we were sparring today, did I miss something?"

"No, no. You are quite right." She paused and patted the bench beside her. "John, please be seated. There is something that needs to be discussed."

Now this had him quite alarmed. Teyla never missed a sparring session if the schedule allowed it, she regarded her training regime and that of her students as a very important duty. "Okay." He sat down beside her and put his sticks on the ground, aware that her eyes were never leaving his face.

"Teyla, you're scaring me here. What happened?"

"That is what I was going to ask you, John. You haven't been quite yourself lately."

Right, that. He lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head. "Listen Teyla, as I've told McKay, I appreciate your worrying but it's just the stress catching up with me…"

"No," she stopped him. "I know you are capable of handling situations much worse, I have seen it. I know that there is more to this – and I know that it has to do with Dr Weir."

Now that hit him like a two by four. He turned away from her to look at the opposite wall. "What makes you think that?"

"I have eyes, John." She smiled. "Also… I have overheard part of your… conversation with Dr Weir in the briefing room."

John's lips twisted into a bitter smile of his own. "I see."

"It was an accident, but I believe it might have been a lucky one. What has transpired between the two of you that has made you so angry?"

"Well, since you're so smart, I'm sure you'll be able to figure that one out, too. Not that it would be any of your business."

Teyla wasn't offended; she could see that John was hurting about something. And although she was by no means sure, he was right about one thing – she had a feeling what this was about.

"Do you remember, right at the beginning of our acquaintance, how I told you that even leaders, in spite of all their responsibility, are entitled to have feelings?"

John still stared at the wall. "Believe me, lately, I thought about that more often than you would believe."

"And what is your conclusion?"

"That I'm not the one who needs to be convinced of that." Suddenly he turned to her. "You are a wise woman Teyla, and there is something else you once told me. Something I have tried to judge my actions by ever since."

She looked straight into his eyes. "What did I say?"

"That in our fight against the Wraith, we may not give up that which makes us different from them. Our humanity. Tell me Teyla, what makes us different from the Wraith?"

She was slightly taken aback at the sudden turn of the conversation. "A respect for human life, compassion, the ability to love…"

"The ability to love, there you go!" he roared and got up so suddenly, she actually winced. Then he started pacing in front of the window. "So, if you deny yourself that because of the fight we are fighting, what does that say about you?"

Teyla hesitated. Even though she didn't know exactly what he was referring to, she had the feeling that a great deal might depend on her answer. She had to choose her words carefully. "I do not believe that one can make that choice consciously. To love is not a decision, it is a fact of nature – you are either capable of it, or not."

John stopped abruptly and looked at her. Teyla could practically see the thoughts processing behind his eyes; she only wished she was privy to their content.

"You're right, Teyla. As always." He said slowly, never breaking the eye contact. Then he picked up his sticks and hesitated for a moment, before he walked over to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."

And while, stunned, she raised her hand to touch the spot where he'd kissed her, he turned to leave the room.

"John!" she called after him and to her surprise, he actually stopped in the doorway, though without turning around. "Please don't make any rash judgements. Not everyone who appears strong at all times actually feels this way on the inside."

The only answer she received was the sound of the doors sliding shut.

The fresh, salty air streaming into his lungs felt wonderful. This was his favourite spot in the whole city, right up on top of one of the lower towers on the edge of the east pier. From here, you could look up and see the city in all its pristine glory, see what it was they were all trying to preserve and protect, a symbol of all the values they held dear.

Plus, you could see the sun set right behind the central spire from here and John had always had a soft spot for dramatic sunsets. At one point during the last few days – after it had been clear they'd be going back to Atlantis, but definitely before last night – he had planned to take Elizabeth here to share this with her. Now, he was not so sure he was willing to share anything with her ever again.

He knew he was being childish, but damnit, he was hurt. Hurt and angry and frustrated and obviously not able to hide it. He couldn't go on like this, he had to talk to Elizabeth again. If he didn't, he'd become a liability, not only to his team but to the whole of Atlantis. The leader of the expedition and its military commander needed to be able to function as a team and right now, he felt like he was suffocating even being in the same room with her.

John watched as the outline of the city grew darker and darker against the setting sun. He couldn't allow that to happen. No, he would go and talk to her again, even if it killed him. Either he and Elizabeth resolved their issues, or he would have to face the consequences. Even if that meant leaving everything behind that was important to him. Even if that meant leaving Atlantis.

"There we are, Elizabeth. One Guinness, nice and cold." Jack handed her the bottle and sat down on the chair beside her.

"Thank you, General. I have to say, it's been a while since I had a good beer."

"My pleasure. But please, it's Jack, off hours. You did save my sorry ass, after all."

She nodded, slowly. "All right… Jack."

He nodded back and turned towards the railing of the balcony they were sitting on. They were lucky, after yesterdays surprising bout of rain, the weather had cleared up again and they were treated with a nice and starry night. Jack let out an appreciative sigh. "This view is quite something." He pointed at the south-west pier directly below them. "And I bet the fishing down there is fantastic."

She chuckled. "You'd have to ask Carson about that. He's our local fishing expert, I am told."

"Carson, huh? I knew there was something about the man that I liked."

"He's a kind soul." she mused and took another swig of her beer. Then she suddenly grinned. "And I'm sure he'd appreciate a Guinness just as much, being Scottish."

Jack sat up abruptly and moved as if to grab her bottle. "Okay, that's it. No more of this fine ambrosia for you, if you don't even know the basics." he replied indignantly.

Elizabeth laughed. "Relax, Jack. I'm kidding; I know it's Irish, of course."

"Right." He gave her another suspicious look, then relaxed back into his seat. "Anyway, how does the beer shortage come about? I would have thought Sheppard kept the beer a-flowin' in Atlantis. He seems the type."

She bit her lip. "I'm sure he has a stash somewhere, as do other people. Officially however, I'm turning a blind eye and… we don't really… hang out."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I got the impression that the two of you are quite close."

The sly bastard.Elizabeth squirmed slightly in her seat. She had an inkling where this conversation was going and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"You could say that… we've been through a lot together." She decided on her standard response to that question.

Jack actually snorted. "Oh don't gimme that! Don't think I can't read the looks between you two, today's little charade – which I won't even bother asking about – aside. I've been there, done it, got the t-shirt, believe you me."

Make that sly, perceptive bastard.

She took another sip from her beer and stole a glance at him. On the other hand, she didn't have to ask what he was talking about when he said he'd been there. The discretion with which he and Colonel Carter had always handled their relationship made her all the more proud to be in his confidence. When she didn't answer, he went on.

"What I don't get is, what the hell is your problem? You're not military, it's not like they'd come crashing in on Atlantis, screaming court martial. And if you're discreet, you might even keep the rumors at bay. We managed… eventually."

"Yeah, but it took you how long? Eight years?"

He sighed. "Oh yes, eight long years…" He paused and looked at her pointedly. "Eight years with said court martial looming over our heads! What's the deal, Elizabeth? One would think you actually liked being miserable like this."

"Who said I was miserable?"

"Well, for starters, whatever there was going on between you two in that briefing room today... Dead giveaway. I might not be known for my emotional sensitivity, but after everything Sam and I had to deal with, I know what I saw."

Elizabeth studied the older man's face. This confrontation was, if not wholly unexpected, at least startling. She was less surprised that he had spotted the tension between her and John at first glance, than at the fact that he actually took an interest, that he actually cared. Who'd have thought Jack O'Neill was such a romantic?

"Well, for starters" she echoed him, "I may not be military, but as far as my position goes, I might as well be. And for the record, I think the frat regs are in place for a good reason. In a situation like ours, we can't allow ourselves to be emotionally compromised."

"Bullshit!" he interrupted. "It's not like you can shut off your feelings for a person, whether you're involved or not. It doesn't make a difference."

Elizabeth smiled into her beer. "That's pretty much what John said."

"Smart man."

"He is… sometimes."

There was a long pause, before he said softly. "You should take it from someone who knows: don't waste any time. It could all be over tomorrow, one way or the other. You should use the time that you have. Don't make the same mistakes we did."

"I know Jack, it's just not that simple."

At that he gave a soft chuckle and turned to her. "Surprise Dr Weir: it actually is! All you have to do is want it to be."

"You don't understand. There are certain things I need in my life. Things I need in order to function properly. Rules, definitions, order, a firm ground to stand on. John, he…. He's the opposite of all that. He's danger and excitement and passion and impulse…. When he looks at me a certain way, that ground actually starts to shake."

"Sounds serious."

"Hmpf."

"You should marry him. That's what I did when I felt that way last time." She raised her eyebrows, so he back-pedalled. "Well, not quite yet, but the plans are firmly in place. But either way, ground shaking? That's definitely serious."

Now Elizabeth just groaned. "You must be kidding…."

"Nope, not kidding. That's love, Liz. Face it or the regrets will bite you in the… um, you know."

"Oh God!" She buried her face in her hands. "Maybe if I had more time to adjust to the idea... so I can be sure I can handle the situation…" Handle him.

"Excuses, Liz. It's been over two years already, for crying out loud! And you can't tell me that this is a recent development. Bottom line is, you take too much time, you risk losing him altogether. Again, I know all about that. Trust me on this."

And with that, he finished his beer and opened two new bottles, pushing one over to her. Meanwhile, Elizabeth stared at the lights of Atlantis, reflecting prettily in the water. Her mind was completely elsewhere.

Jack smiled. Mission accomplished. She'd come around, sooner or later. He just hoped now Sheppard wouldn't go and turn out to be an idiot after all.

"I am not drunk!"

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and picked up the pace to prove her point. Behind her, she heard the General chuckle.

"You so are! And that after I had the brunt of the beer… shame on you!"

At that, she came to an abrupt halt and turned around – which proved to be a mistake as she suddenly became dizzy and started to sway dangerously. Jack quickly rushed to her side to steady her.

"You were saying?" he said mockingly.

"Shut up!"

Another chuckle. "There now, insubordination goes a long way with me, Doc!"

She giggled. "I think I actually am drunk."

"A little bit tipsy maybe. Good thing that those appear to be your quarters right here."

She turned around and her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, right, they are. How did you…?"

He just grinned. "Hey if I ultimately managed to find my way through a Goa'uld mothership, Atlantis is piece of cake!"

She laughed, but suddenly became serious. "Thanks Jack, for everything. Not only your advice tonight – however unsolicited" They both grinned at that. " – but for your support in general. I know I probably would not still be here if…"

"…if you weren't the best person for the job? No, you wouldn't."

She smiled again. "Good to know at least someone believes in me still."

Jack knew Elizabeth well enough to know that he was witnessing a rare moment of vulnerability – be it alcohol-induced or otherwise. He could only guess at the emotional roller-coaster she'd been through lately, which was why he had suggested this night off in the first place – he'd experienced it every time the SGC had been threatened to be shut down. And since Atlantis was not only figuratively but literally Elizabeth's life, she must have felt that turmoil tenfold… anything that might or might not have happened between her and John Sheppard aside.

It was unfortunate, really, that both of them were in fact more than a little bit tipsy. Had they not been, at least Jack would certainly have felt Sheppard's eyes boring into his back and refrained from letting his soft side get the better of him. But as it was, he smiled warmly at the distraught woman in front of him, who had never been less the confident leader of the most important expedition in human history, whispered a soft "Come here." and enveloped her in a much needed embrace.

And while a single tear, borne from the older man's kindness as well as her own, screwed up situation, escaped Elizabeth's lids, John's expression grew ugly with anger. Without making a sound, he turned and left the scene. He neither wanted nor needed to witness how this would go on. He had seen enough.

TBC