Chapter 21 - Shortbread
"I missed you," she whispers in John's ear as they all sit companionably in the sofas facing the TV set with boxes of shortbread opened on their laps and mugs of steaming tea Carson has prepared for them.
He bumps his shoulder against hers. "Right back at ya". He wolfes down a whole cookie and hums in delight. "Now, that's the real McCoy!" he says, waving yet another cookie at Carson, making him beam with pleasure at the compliment. "It would be heavenly with a dash of whisky in that hot water of yours, though," he adds wickedly.
Louise rolls her eyes at his antics. "Behave!" she chides him.
He sniggers. "Yes, Mom."
She tucks her tongue at him playfully but plays along anyway, choosing to tease Carson some more about the whisky. "I thought we had packed a few boxes of your favorite nectar, Doctor," she mentions in passing.
"Only for medical purposes, love," he banters back.
"Oh, come on," John pleads, bending towards the coffee table to set his mug down though it's still half full. "You don't expect me to finish that thing you call tea without something a little bit stronger in it, do you?"
Carson laughs out loud and relents. "Alright, Colonel, but only this time, to celebrate our return." He walks to the door. "I'll be right back."
They pass the bottle around. Louise silently gives thanks to whatever power is out there that it's not one of those days when she feels like giving in to some social drinking, telling herself it's no big deal to drink only one small glass if everyone is doing the same. She thanks Carson politely but refuses to have anything added to her tea and he doesn't insist.
They talk about their trip and where Carson has taken her. Rodney is sitting on the other side of her and at one point he sees her head droop a little as Carson is recounting their trip to Stirling Castle. He elbows her. "Might as well go to sleep, honey. You've had a long day... and trip," he adds, proud of his quip.
"Yeah, you're right. I'd better call it a day," she agrees.
"Oh, come on, Louise," John whines playfully. "You've just arrived and you said it yourself. You missed us, right? Can't take a little bit of whisky or a late evening party, granny?" he teases her and tries to pour some whisky in her mug as she grabs it from the coffee table, not seeing her blanch.
She stands abruptly, schooling herself to breath in and out very slowly, trying not to look scared. She sits the mug back on the coffee table then looks him in the eye, her gaze ice cold. "As a matter of fact, young man, no, I can't." She turns to the others, her gaze sweeping the room. "As you can see, I'm old now and need my beauty sleep more than ever so I'm bidding you all goodnight." She nods at them graciously, keeping a smile on her face when she wants to scream in frustration. It's not she's ready to relapse. It's just she's scared of being cornered and she's disappointed such a nice evening should end on a sour note, though she knows it's all her fault. Friendship is not earned with half-truths, she remembers Mrs Beckett's remark.
Everyone looks embarrassed but bids her goodnight all the same. She's half-way through the corridor when she hears Rodney growl at John. "Way to go, Sheppard, once again! What is it with Louise? Have you made it a personal task to make her life miserable and embarrass her every possible way?" She shakes her head in sadness and trudges to the nearest transporter.
Back in the room, Elizabeth who has observed the scene without saying a word, finally decides things have to stop before they get ugly. "Now, now, Rodney. I know you feel it's your duty to protect Ms Léger but this is something between her and John. And I'm sure he's dying to leave this room and find her to apologize, right, John?"
He sighs. "I'm not so sure it's such a good idea, Elizabeth. She's pretty upset right now and an upset Louise is a stubborn Louise. She won't listen to me," he reasons.
"Yeah, convince yourself of that, will you?" Rodney replies sourly. "That way you won't have to face her and explain why you pushed her buttons – again!"
John pouts at him. "And what should I tell her if I go and see her, uh? She's pissed at me. She won't hear me out."
"You could start by saying you're sorry, Sheppard. It often works, you know," Ronon suggests sarcastically.
"Do you want me to go and talk to her, John?" Teyla offers.
He shakes his head. "Nope. This is between her and me, Elizabeth is right, and yes, Rodney, I know I was wrong. I don't know what got into me. That was stupid. I should have walked her to her room and said goodnight. If you'll all excuse me, I'm going to try and repair the damage before it gets out of hand. Good night."
Elizabeth and Teyla smile at him. "Goodnight, John." Ronon smirks at him knowing Louise won't probably resist John's puppy looks. Rodney makes a face but refuses to look his friend in the eye, being majorly pissed.
Carson looks worrisome and follows John outside. "If I may, Colonel," he calls after him.
John stops in his track and turns to him, aggravated. "What? You too want to read me the riot act?"
Carson shakes his head sadly. "No, Colonel. I just wanted to tell you that the trip to Earth seems to have done wonders to our little cook – against all odds I might say. She's more open, she sleeps better, she's regained weight. I just want you to be careful with how you handle this. She cares a lot about you and about what you think of her. She might have lashed out at you on the spur of the moment but I'm sure she'll rather retreat into her shell than tell you what's wrong and make you feel guilty. Don't let her."
John nods, looking worried now too. "I won't. I promise I will try my best not to be my usual elephant inside a china shop self."
When he reaches her door, he gets a sense of déja vu. It seems he's back to square one and it's hardly the first time. Like a chacha – one step forward and one step back. That's how he sees his friendship with Louise. Actually, he doesn't even know if she sees him as a friend or only tolerates his presence. But she did say she'd missed you, he reasons.
She answers the door right way, looking cool and unruffled on the surface. "Yes, John, what can I do for you?"
He winces. He'd much prefer she were mad at him. "Louise, eh, sorry to bother you. I know you need to sleep. I just..." he hesitates, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry" seems too blunt. He's never been good at this whole connecting to other people thing.
"That's OK. As you can see, I'm not ready for bed yet. Would you like to come in?" she offers politely.
"As a matter of fact... would you mind taking a walk with me?"
"Why?" She crosses her arms defensively on her chest.
Here goes, he smirks inwardly. You couldn't look aloof and indifferent that long. You're pissed at me, big time! "That's blunt!" he remarks.
"So French!" she retorts, sniggering. She raises her eyebrows expectantly.
He huffs. "Because I need to apologize for my behavior and I don't know where to start!"
"So you're making it as you go along, right?" she mocks him.
He pouts. "Alright! Yes, I am. Happy?"
"Not really, no. Listen. You don't need to apologize. You had drunk a little. You acted on the spur of the moment. I get it. No big deal!" she replies, trying to look indifferent.
"Louise..." he pleads.
"OK..." She relents and grabs her jacket then steps into the corridor. "Lead the way..." she motions for him to go first.
They walk in silence for a few minutes and head towards the west pier. He edges closer the longer they walk, finally mustering the courage to take hold of her hand. She jumps at the contact and tries to free her hand but he holds on tight. "John," she pleads. ""I'm not comfortable with physical contact. Don't push it."
"I'm not either and you know it, Louise, but I've used up all solutions to connect to you so humor me for a sec'."
She looks hurt. "And I, you, John. Maybe we were not meant to connect in the first place..."
He looks up in alarm and freezes. "I'm sorry I spoiled your evening. I am. You're right. I'd had a drink. Not enough to be plastered but enough to be careless and I acted stupid though I still don't know why you reacted so strongly. Now, Louise, there's no need to become cruel," he points out, looking hurt too.
"I'm not being cruel, John. Just realistic. You and I – we're too different to be friends. I'm ordinary and you're Captain Handsome. You're always so cool with girls and I'm always so awkward with men – make it everyone!" she adds in a self-deprecating tone.
"Agh!" he groans, letting go of her hand and grabbing her shoulders, suddenly feeling the urge to shake her. "Where did that come from? Damn it! You, lady, are not ordinary and if you sometimes act like you don't belong around other human beings, it's because you've decided somewhere along the way for whatever reason I'll someday extract from you, through torture if I must," he adds, majorly pissed, "that you should retreat into your shell to protect yourself. Don't you see it? You and I are not so different. I act cool when I'm not because it helps me blend in and I know you're learning to do that too but deep down, you and I are the same." He looks into her eyes, making her blink. "Not meant to be friends, you say? Yeah, sure!" he sniggers, releasing her suddenly, making her lose her balance.
She feels herself stumbling backwards and grabs his jacket with both hands. She looks up, her jaw set and eyes narrowing at him. "I hate you, John Sheppard!"
"Right back at ya," he answers cockily, mirroring his earlier answer in the TV room.
They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, not daring to move. There's nothing else to say. She was cruel to him, yes. He spoke his mind and opened his heart more than he ever did here in the City, with anyone. She has a knack for testing his patience, over and over again, infuriating him to the point when he doesn't care about looking so cool anymore.
"Where do we go from here?" he finally wonders out loud.
She releases the lapels of his jacket and takes a step back. She shrugs. "I think everything's been said."
"Oh, no, lady, no, no! I won't let you retreat into your shell once again. Damn it! We've worked so hard for this friendship to work and now you're telling me we're just going our own ways?!" he growls, his eyes intent on her, making her shudder.
"I wish you would just let it go, John. We can work together. We don't need to be friends for that." She's keeping the tears at bay, steeling herself. She knows she's wrong and she knows it's a pattern in her. When things get too complicated, when she becomes more intimate with people, she always severes the bonds. It's easier that way. But is it right? A little nagging voice whispers to her. It's not of course, she knows that. God knows it was much easier to speak to Carson's mother! Obviously so because nothing bonds them yet. But with John, it's different. If she lets him closer to her heart, she'll get hurt and it scares her to death.
He's crossed his arms defensively on his chest and is observing her, his jaw set too. "Don't utter words you'll then regret, Louise," he warns her.
She holds her head high and looks him in the eyes. She's chosen. She just needs a little more courage and ties will be severed. She'll return to her old self and she won't have to hurt so much anymore, won't have to abide by the laws of friendship and let them know who she really is. She smirks self-deprecatingly. Villains never get their happy endings and everyone she used to know had made it adamant to her she certainly did not deserve hers. "I won't," she replies, her words final and cutting like a knife.
He flinches but refuses to let go. Whatever happened not an hour ago cannot possibly end what they've started. He won't let her, even if he has to fight her for it. He makes the choice of letting it go – for now – because they're tired and at odds and will only hurt each other more. He winces. "Right, as usual, you decide and I have to comply. This is the way it is with you. Let me tell you something, sweetie. You can shut me out and ignore me all you want but at the end of the day, you'll always be my friend." He leans in and kisses her gently on her cheek then on second thought, adds another peck on her nose. "I love you and nothing, not even your bitchy attitude, will change that," he whispers in her ear before turning tail and leaving her standing at the edge of the pier.
She remains standing there, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold night air for who knows how long, refusing to let the tears fall. I should have just told him why I reacted that way. I should have come clean about everything. Carson's mother was right. I can't go on like this. Then that pesky little voice comes nagging at her again. Yeah, sure, you betcha. Go ahead, tell them! You'll see if they react differently from your so-called friends and family when you told them about your condition, about your addiction, about everything. You think John wants someone so screwed up in his life? Do you even think you deserve him? Deserve any of them? Stop deluding yourself and do what's right for you or soon you'll be kicked out of Atlantis and where will you go, uh? She shakes her head to clear her thoughts. Too much thinking isn't good for anyone, especially her. She needs to keep her mind and hands busy. That's what used to work. It should again.
She lets her hands drop to her sides and walks back to the door after taking one last look at the ocean and the City. This was enough when she came here. Why is it not anymore?
TBC