Chapter 23
Hi everyone. I was told that John and Ronon might be a little OOC because of how much more they talk in my fic than in the series. I do agree but have found no solution to this. So, I apologize. I did say I was trying to keep this story as Canon as possible, plot-wise. I'm being very careful with finding ways of not disrupting the series' timeline and sometimes, it's quite tricky. As for John's and Ronon's behaviors, I'm well aware they're more open and talkative than in the show. I'll endeavor to do my best.
Again, thank you for reading and rewieving. It always makes my day.
Spoilers for Conversion and the Lost Boys.
She feels left out these days. They've finally completed her initial training and John has relunctantly allowed her back on the mission logs but never again is she invited to join their team. A lot happens and it seems they don't have time for her anymore. Elizabeth has enough on her plate too that she doesn't want to bother her with it.
She strikes a friendship with Doctor Zelenka whom she's always found very considerate with her, even before he knew her name and only referred to her as "the cook". Now, he calls her Ms Léger, never Louise, so she doesn't overstep the boundaries either, knowing how it feels to have people take for granted you'll adapt to them and not the contrary.
They haven't been on the City long enough to have time for a lot of celebrations and they tend to organize parties on the spur of the moment, even for Christmas that once again is not a grand affair, just a few decorations here and there though, John has made the effort to find a tree on some off-world mission. Elizabeth has asked Buckley and herself to organize a small dinner party and the Daedalus has brought them enough staples to make it look like the real thing. She bakes pies and heaps of cookies for that night. Her fruity Christmas puddings are already waiting in the pantry to be set on the tables.
She leaves the kitchens way after everyone has gone to bed. She's finally finished her preparations and cleaned everything. Her two prep-cooks are the last ones to leave before her, urging her to go to bed. She pushes them gently towards the door, bidding them goodnight, saying she won't be a minute when she knows there's still plenty to do on the list the chef has left her.
He always does that – sets priorities for the day that could only be achieved with twice the staff they have, does a small part of it and then lets her finish it off before she can go to bed. She's realized he doesn't know how to plan in a kitchen and mostly plays it by ear and then uses his ordinary leverage on her – "if you say a word about it or don't do it, I'll have you sacked" – to make her do the rest.
She shrugs as she leaves the kitchens, thinking hard about why she still wants to slave away here when she could simply return to Earth. But she knows it's still not the right moment, if ever she'll be ready to head back there. When she imagines herself years from now, she prays she won't ever be told she's been reassigned.
She sees him standing in the middle of the hall, his hands on his hips, admiring the tree that's finally been decorated with lights and tinsel. He hears her approach and turns, smiling briefly, as if caught off-guard. "Hi," she greets him, embarrassed to find him here on his own. "Nice tree."
"Yeah, it is. Hope everyone will have a good time tomorrow..." He voice trails off, unsure of what to say next.
"Have you had dinner, Colonel?" she asks, then seeing his look of reproach corrects herself. "John..."
He gives her a terse smile. "Yeah, thanks."
"Would you like a cup of coffee and some cookies? I have whole batches in the storage area." She knows he has a sweet tooth and back when they were still on speaking terms, he'd drop by almost every night to have some with her – his nightcap he'd call it.
"Wouldn't want you to be at odds with Buckley."
"Oh, yeah, well, he's not here and I'm sure he wouldn't mind you'd get a treat after such hard work," she says, motioning to the tree.
"OK, if it's not too much trouble, then..." He feels awkward like the first times they met.
"It's not. Please, come in," she says walking back to the kitchen. He follows her inside and waits for her to offer him a seat, which she does before heading for the pantry. He hates the discomfort that is settling in his stomach. He stands as she enters the kitchen again with a plateful of soft snickerdoodles. "I know you like these," she offers him the plate but sees his look of embarrassment.
"Look, Louise. I shouldn't have come. You're probably looking forward to a good night's sleep and I'm keeping you awake. I'll just go now."
She bites her bottom lip, keeping the disappointment from showing. She's made efforts like Ronon has told her and she was hoping this could be it, the moment she's waited for for weeks now – the moment when they mend their wounds and she'll pour out her heart and secrets to him over milk and cookies. She nods. "Yeah, sure, of course. I'm tired and you must be too. Please, at least take these," she says, handing him the plate he accepts relunctantly.
He gives her a terse smile. "Thanks. I'll just go now then," he repeats, at a loss for something else to say. He feels he's made a big mistake but he doesn't know if it was coming to the kitchen in the first place or leaving like a thief.
On second thought, he tries his hand at making small talk, not wanting to leave without at least attempting to be civil. "Will you be there tomorrow for dinner?" he asks, knowing once dinner is ready, they're all supposed to take turns so everyone at least enjoys a part of the feast.
The butterflies in her stomach grow to epic proportions. She feels the tears choking in her throat but doesn't want him to see how disappointed she is. "No, I don't think I'll be able to, with preps and all. I probably won't leave the kitchen the whole evening."
"Oh, right, sorry. Had not thought about that." He feels miserable and dumb. Why did he have to remind her she won't be allowed to have some fun like the rest of them? He lifts the plate. "Hey, thanks for the cookies."
"You're welcome. Goodnight," she says, waiting for him to leave before she heads towards her own quarters.
"Night, Louise," he mumbles.
Once she's served dessert that night, she makes a quick exit as everyone is listening to Elizabeth's speech. Weir sees her but doesn't call after her and mums the word, pretty sure Louise doesn't want to be around John or probably anyone right now.
She's seen her today when she came to drop her a tray for lunch and she's looked even more down than she has ever since things have gone wrong between her and Sheppard. She's tried to talk to him about it – encouraged him to go and see her.
She's talked to Dr Heightmeyer about them too, wondering if it wouldn't be a good thing to make them talk to each other but Kate is not so sure it's the right path. "What if they never come round? The longer we wait, the more awkward it gets between them and Louise has taken it upon herself to leave the group so things wouldn't be difficult at social events. She doesn't even come to our movie nights anymore..." Elizabeth is worried for them both. They were good for each other. Now the spell is broken.
Kate tells her to give them time and if nothing changes, she agrees to set appointments for them, maybe even group therapy if they agree to it, which Elizabeth knows none of them will accept but still, it could be a great incentive to force them to find a solution.
The light at the end of the tunnel comes unexpectedly with two events that once more Elizabeth and her team would have gladly dispensed of – John's conversion and their encounter with Aiden's boys and subsequent forray into a hive ship, both of which leaving Louise desperate as she first witnesses her friend turn into a dangerous creature then be captured with very little hope of ever finding him alive.
She's in the storage area when he suddenly appears by her side, scaring the hell out of her. There is something about him that is different today but she doesn't dare tell him so and humors him when he grins at her and offers to help her. Something is obviously off as he never comes down here and there's a cocky, sexy glim in his eyes as he observes her while she decides what to do. "Come on, sweetie. I come all the way down here and you don't want to accept my help..." he says enticingly, coming closer.
"Well, Colonel, I have to admit, I'm pretty done here. If you want to be of any help, why don't you come with me upstairs. I still have a few crates to open. The Daedalus brought us treats I haven't had time to unpack..." She's trying to lure him back where there'll be people around. She's never been afraid of him before, not even when he kicked her ass and left bruises in the gym room.
He gets into her personal space before she has the time to say cookie and stands toe to toe with her, looking down in her eyes, making her blink.
That's when she sees the dilated pupils that are turning a liquid amber. Like vampires, is all that comes to her mind, being mesmerized by the thought she might indeed be in danger from the very person she trusts most with her life. He raises his hand slowly and tentatively brushes a strand of hair from her cheek. She's let it grow longer recently, not caring much how it looks. "I like your new haircut," he whispers. "You look different. More girly..."
She giggles at the notion though her stomach is doing somersaults. What will happen if she moves? Will he take it as a threat and attack her? She barely dares to breathe.
"I miss you, Léger. Very much so..." he almost whines. He bends over and kisses her nose then lays his forehead against hers. God knows she misses her friend as much as he seems to miss her but it's not him talking. John wouldn't be so daring and he would certainly not hit on her.
"I miss you too, John, but I don't think any of this is wise," she whispers back, trying to step away. He doesn't let her and sneaks an arm around her waist, forcing her to come flush with him. "I can feel your fear," he hums, his voice dropping an octave. "You should relax, sweetie. It's very enticing to see you afraid of what I might do to you..."
She breathes in and out, slowly, schooling herself, as she's learned with Teyla. She closes her eyes and thinks about other things, anything but her fear and his body pressed against hers.
He growls, frustrated, pushing her away, making her fall against a crate. "Why do you always, always have to be in control, damn you? Can't you let your hair down for once in your life !"
He closes the distance between them again and makes her stand then shakes her by the arms. She knows he's leaving deep bruises there. He does not seem to realize – or care – about what he's doing to her. "Your walls are so high, my lady, I doubt anyone will ever get through," he adds viciously, making her eyes well up with tears at the insult.
"Louise, this is Beckett," she hears in her headset. "Have you seen Sheppard?" It's a long shot because John and her are never, ever seen together these days and seem to have made it a hobby of avoiding each other as much as possible.
She gulps and reaches for her headset. Sheppard watches her and dares her to complete her gesture, a dangerous glim in his eyes, but seeing as her heart is wounded right now, she doesn't care. She defies him and taps the communicator. "He's right here, Doctor. Shall I ask him to get to the infirmary?" He glares at her but is gone before Beckett has the time to reply.
"Louise, I'm sending marines your way. They won't be a minute. Whatever happens, do not move." She crumples to the ground. "It's not necessary, Carson. He's gone."
She asks to go and see him when she learns he's been quarantined but Elizabeth refuses, having just come back from there herself. "He's not the man you used to know, Ms Léger," she informs her.
Louise hangs her head. "I know. He came to see me..."
"Beckett told me. You were lucky. He says his instincts are heightened and so are his feelings. Whatever he's kept hidden as a human being is being slowly revealed as he's turning into a..." she waves her hand, at a loss for words.
"Bloodsucker? Nightwalker?" Louise offers, her sarcasm the last rampart against her pain. Is that how she's going to have to remember him if he dies? "Ma'am," she pleads. "Let me help. Anything I can do for him, I will. He's always watched my back. It's time I repay him."
Elizabeth shakes her head in sadness. "I know you want to help but there's nothing you can do. He's alone on that one."
They never talk about it again. He makes amends to Teyla and Elizabeth but doesn't come to her. She doesn't even know if he remembers the incident.
All he knows is that now, when she passes him in a corridor, she steers away from him as if afraid he might still have it in him to hurt or kill her.
Of course, he remembers. The memory plagues him.
How could he possibly attack her and utter those shamed words – even if they're true, even if at the time he was running on instinct alone and had no control over his emotions? He just hopes she's been told it was not him there and she's forgiven him, though as he can see, she will probably never forget. He can't help thinking about the Beauty and the Beast – one of her favorite stories ever. How fitting to depict their relationship! She's tried hard to accept him and he's tried as hard to be accepted, but in the end, their friendship is like the chipped cup that was finally shattered into pieces – never to be mended. Little does he know she feels the exact same way, except for a slight twist. She thinks she was the one who chipped the cup. He only finished the job.
She has a sense of foreboding when they get a lead about a ZPM and Elizabeth decides it's worth the try, though Rodney voices his complaint this is probably another wild goose chase. She almost misses the information as she's yet again swamped with work while the chef is taking an umpteenth so-called sick leave. She asks to join them but is told by Elizabeth John has just agreed to take his flagship team with him and no one else. "His mission, his call," she tells her, not too happy Louise is being so insistent. "If you get his approval, I'll let you go but only then."
She hangs her head and ponders it, uncomfortable at the idea of asking for a favor. She finally goes to see him in the armory, only to be met with his cold rebuttal. "No way I'm taking a civilian on that mission. You're not trained for that," he says, avoiding her gaze, busying himself with his gear.
"Really?" she dares him to say otherwise after all the whumping she's gotten from him and Ronon.
He turns his back on her, arranging things in his locker. "Really! I won't have time to watch your back. Something might come up. I don't want you in the line of fire."
"Are you saying I'm a liability?" she challenges him.
"If you insist..."
It would almost be fun to watch, Ronon reflects as he witnesses their crossing of swords, if only they were not so at odds.
"Oh yeah, right. But you're taking Rodney who'll whine all day and lag behind?" She's really pissed and she doesn't even know what she's doing here.
"Why is it so important for you to come this time, Louise?" Ronon asks her, butting in.
She looks at him and shudders, the feeling of impending doom creeping up her spine. "I don't know... I just... want to be there with you."
"Well, you can't and that's final." John won't humor her. Why would he? He keeps away from her as much as he can.
She relents, knowing that he's as stubborn as she is and she's not the one who's making the decisions here. "Just... Just be careful, OK?" she whispers, looking him straight in the eyes before leaving at a run.
"What was that about?" John wonders aloud, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
"She's worried about you, dummy," Ronon shrugs. "And too proud to say it out loud, like someone else I know."
John bangs his locker door shut before stomping to the door.
TBC