Chapter 4 – Atonement

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John has been avoiding the mess hall as much as he could ever since the incident but knows he can't indefinitely. He sighs and gets in line to get breakfast the next morning. It's very early but she's there as usual, cooking bacon and ladling eggs on plates, flipping pancakes and stirring steamy oatmeal in pans. He knows she's seen him and sees her tense. He winces. He elbows Ford. "I'll get coffee and juice for us both," he says, ready to retreat to the other side of the buffet. "Get me a plate, will ya'?"

"Good morning, Major Sheppard," she says with a smile as she comes to stand in front of him, motioning to one of her cooks to take over. "What would you like this morning?" She rubs her hands nervously together then hides them behind her back.

Seeing her as nervous as him suddenly removes the wad of cotton he's felt in his throat ever since he got up and decided he couldn't beat about the bush any longer.

"Good morning, Ma'am," he answers, giving her a tense smile. "As a matter of fact, if you have a minute, I'd like to have a word in private," he tentatively asks, waiting for a rebuttal.

"Sure," she says, discarding her apron. "Follow me, Major."

He motions to Ford to proceed and follows her to the kitchens. She is standing in the middle, a hand on the table, looking very uncomfortable. Only a couple of people are working in the kitchen, what with the early hours. "Do you want me to..." she offers, motioning towards them, offering to send them away.

He shakes his head. "No, it's OK. Actually, if I was sure you wouldn't mind, I had told you in the mess hall. Look, Ma'am, I'm sorry I was so rude the other night. It was only clumsiness on my part. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he apologizes hurriedly, shuffling his feet. He drops his gaze.

"And I'm sorry I reacted that way, Major. I should have sucked it up," she whispers back, turning beet red.

He looks up and seeing her utter embarrassment, takes a step forward, holding up his hand. "No, no, please, it was my fault and mine alone. I'm so very sorry we started on the wrong foot."

She calms down and holds out her hand. "Why don't we start all over again then? My name is Louise, nice to meet you, John."

He beams at her and takes her small hand in his much bigger one, squeezing it gently. "Nice to meet you too, Louise."

She retrieves her hand after a few seconds that feel like an eternity and smiles. "Now, what can I get you for breakfast, John?" she asks one more.

"You told me the first time we met you knew what people liked," he teases her, "so I'll let you be the judge of it," he says, winking.

She laughs out loud. "OK, let me think," she drawls, "what about some French toast?" she offers and sees his eyes light up instantly.

"How did you know?"

"I saw your eyes grow wide once I made some not long ago for a Sunday brunch," she replies.

"But it's not Sunday," he quips.

"Let's make it a special treat to celebrate the breaking of the ice," she retorts, winking. "Sit," she orders, pointing at a free spot at the table. "It'll only take a few minutes."

He complies and she offers him a cup of coffee and glass of juice while he waits and chats with her. "Have you had breakfast or will you join me?" he asks.

"I had breakfast a long time ago," she says, turning to him briefly. "I get up very early. But," she glances at the clock, "it's almost time for my elevenses," she quips and sets a plate in front of him before grabbing a a cup of coffee and sitting in front of him.

He laughs. "Big fan of Tolkien, I gather."

"Big fan of any book that I can lay my hands on. Actually, make it any readable material," she answers.

"Really?" he prods, tasting his first forkful of toast and humming in pleasure.

She laughs at his reaction. "Really. Don't leave a box of cereals sitting around. I told you, I can't help myself!"

He chuckles. "Wow, Dr Weir has serious competition here! Ever read War and Peace?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "Nope. Saw a TV movie though that was pretty good. It's on my to do-list."

"I'll lend it to you when I'm finished," he offers.

"Yeah, I'd like that..."

There's suddenly a lull in the conversation and he sees her unease slowly resurfacing. He knows she's made a huge effort there and he doesn't want to lose what they've so painstakingly acquired.

"This is really good. Rodney was right. Food is paramount to our expedition. I can't tell you how many times a good meal has done more to my morales than anything else. Food at Mc Munro was horrendous," he confides, dropping his voice and leaning towards her. "And I'm not even going to mention Afghanistan..."

She smiles at him. "Well, John, as long as I get a steady supply of a little bit of everything for my kitchen, you'll never have to complain." She pauses then adds, on second thought: "I met Teyla. Hallin had told me about her. She made a great impression on me. And we had such a good time cooking together. I had never thought I'd ever laugh that much again." She looks away wistfully.

"You did, didn't you?" he says, proud of Teyla for helping her open up that way. "Well, you made a great impression on her too... and on me! Thanks for the cookies, by the way. They gave me the courage to come and talk to you today," he confesses, which makes her eyes crinkle, warming his heart. "And Teyla did have fun learning how to make them," he adds.

"I could teach you," she blurts out and immediately blushes, retreating in her shell.

"I'd love that," he answers, patting her hand.

"You would?" she asks, befundled.

"Yeah. It's good therapy, I'm sure."

"It is," she replies, suddenly excited. "I mean..." she says, realizing she might have said too much.

"Yes, tell me," he prods, tilting his head.

"When I am upset, I cook," she explains. "I don't know why but it is soothing."

"I play the guitar," he retorts. "Or run... Or have a sparring session with Teyla."

"Doesn't she meditate too?" she wonders.

He pouts. "Well, yes she does but I don't like it that much."

She laughs at his embarrassment. "I can connect to that. I went to yoga once. Spent my time rehearsing the moves in my head. Couldn't relax. I much prefer to dance," she adds then clamps her mouth shut, realizing she's giving too much already.

He grins and points at her. "We'll have to discuss this some other time, young lady, because I have an inventory to make in the armory but don't you think for one second I'm letting you off the hook," he quips. She smiles and nods. He drains his coffee and stands. "I'd like to spend more time with you but I'm already late and I gather you still have a lot of work to do," he says as he puts his dishes in the sink. "Thank you for the breakfast and the company, Louise."

"You're most welcome," she replies. "I take it I'll see you tomorrow for the mission's briefing?"

He nods. "Or maybe earlier. Can I drop by tonight?"

"You don't have to if this concerns Dr Weir's dinner, Sir," she answers.

He smiles at her, trying not to recoil from the formal address. "Yes, Teyla told me about it. Thank you so much for taking care of her. I will indeed have a lot of work in preparation for the mission and I don't want to bother you if you do too," he states, not wanting to push it. He doesn't know what it is about her but the more he talks to her, the more he suspects that she's had more than her share of worries and pain and that she can't help it when her walls go back up on their own accord. "See you tomorrow then, Louise."

TBC