Story Notes: Hello! This was written as a birthday present for a friend of mine. Hope you enjoy and please review!
Elizabeth got up from her desk with a tired sigh, rubbing her forehead and pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. It was time to go get some sleep. She tucked her laptop under her arm and reached over her chair to switch off the small desk lamp, instantly plunging her office into shadow, the dark lessened only by the glow of the lights from the control room and the perpetually lit panels in the walls.
As she crossed the bridge over into the control room, her eyes were automatically drawn to the stargate below, silent and dim as it loomed over the empty room. Not slowing her pace, she took a few seconds to will the gate to come to life and the symbols to start spinning with the incoming wormhole that she had been waiting for. It had become a sort of tradition for her these past few weeks, that moment of wishing as she left her office for the night, a ritual she performed without fail. It had never worked of course, and tonight was no exception. The gate stayed dark. No one came through. She let out a small huff of air in disappointment.
“Good night ma’am,” said the technician on duty as she walked by.
Elizabeth mustered up a small smile in return. “Good night, Chuck.”
Two minutes and a short walk later, she arrived at her quarters. She swiped at the door panel and walked in, dumping her laptop on the bed and not even bothering to turn the lights on, instead opting for the weaker illumination of the lamp on the bedside table. She was too tired for much light, and it helped to lessen the feeling that there was too much space in the room now that she was living in it by herself. Elizabeth went to the window and stared at the view of the glittering city, lost in thought; absently she began fiddling with her jewelry, running her fingers across the etchings on the round pendant of her silver necklace, then slowly twisting in circles the thin band of gold on her left ring finger. She barely noticed the jewelry’s presence anymore, it had become so much a part of her, but she was instantly uncomfortable the second it was gone. For her, both pieces, which had been carefully made to fit her husband’s exact specifications, served as a constant reminder of him and his love for her, a reminder that in his absence was both wonderful and somewhat painful.
After a few minutes of this silent reflection, Elizabeth snapped out of her reverie and moved away from the window, shaking her head as she took off her jacket and carelessly tossed it away, sending it to join the laptop on the bed. It didn’t stay though, sliding to the floor after only a few second’s contact with the bedspread. She gave a small sigh of frustration and seriously considered just leaving the annoying pile of fabric where it had fallen, but she made herself take the few steps and pick it up.
Propelled by some strange impulse to be neat, instead of just throwing it onto a chair she crossed the room, opened the closet door, found an empty clothes hanger and slung the jacket over it. She hooked the hanger over the rail and was about to close the door again when she glanced over to John’s side of the closet and spotted the sleeve of his leather BDU jacket. It was sticking out from where it hung between his other clothes, the yellow and blue of his spare Atlantis patch contrasting brightly with the black fabric. She took hold of the sleeve, pushing the other clothes out of the way, and swung the coat on its hanger out to look at it.
Elizabeth had always loved the the way John looked in this jacket. He had a special way of wearing it that was indescribably him. Without even trying, he exuded an aura of coolness that no one else could possibly hope to duplicate (and she had seen Rodney try). She smiled as she remembered that special smirk he would send her way when he wore this jacket before they were married - he had to know how good he looked wearing it, no matter how unaware of it he appeared. In her mind there was no way he couldn’t. Even now, she felt like melting into a puddle whenever she saw him in it. But to his credit, if he did know he didn’t take advantage of it very often, much to the disappointment of his wife. He preferred his normal black BDUs or his expedition uniform for mission wear even after a large number of the off-world teams had taken to wearing leather. He didn’t think it was practical.
She ran her thumb over the embroidered patch, the leather of the sleeve gripped in her palm cool against her skin, and was overcome with the nightly wave of missing John. She hid it well during the day, when she could concentrate solely on her job and being the city’s strong leader, but it grew more and more intense the longer he was gone; she hadn’t thought it was possible to miss someone this much. Never had, before him. She needed to hear his voice, see his face, wrap her arms around him...
On another sudden impulse, a different one this time, she pulled the jacket off of its hanger and stuck her arms through the sleeves, putting it on backwards so the coat was in front of her. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the collar, taking a deep breath. Mixed in with the scent of leather was the smell Elizabeth had come to identify with John Sheppard- soap and aftershave and a peculiar spicy scent that was unique to him. She smiled. If she tried very hard not to think it was almost like he was standing next to her.
She stood like this for several minutes, the coat folded around her, just breathing in the smell. When she felt calmer, she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed, laying down on top of the covers and not feeling like taking the time to change into pajamas. She flicked off the light and draped the jacket over her shoulders, tugging it up till it was at her chin, and after taking a few slow, deep, comforting breaths, drifted off to sleep.
kzk
The door to their quarters slid open silently, then closed again moments later with a barely audible hiss. To cut down on noise, John paused a few inches from the door and pried off his boots with the heels of his feet, wincing as one of them fell over with a small thud. He set his battered pack soundlessly on the floor next to them, telling himself that he would deal with it properly in the morning, then walked farther into the shadow filled room, the soft white moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains providing just enough light to keep him from running into anything. Moving as quietly as possible, he crossed the space between him and the bed, weaving around an ottoman that he swore hadn’t been in that spot when he’d left a month ago.
As John reached the edge of the bed, a slight breeze blew in through the half open window, stirring the curtains so that the moonlight briefly poured in uninterrupted. It fell on the sleeping form of his wife, highlighting her features with its silvery glow and casting her sweep of dark curls into contrast with the white pillowcase beneath her head. She looked so peaceful, the stress that often hung around her face when she was awake completely gone. He was glad to see that she was actually asleep and not working. Elizabeth’s work habits sometimes gave him cause for worry; that was why when he had arrived in the gate room minutes ago and heard that she had turned in for the night, he had asked Chuck not to disturb her with the news.
The curtains billowed outward again, and with this second shaft of light he noticed something he had overlooked the first time, focused as he had been on her face. Wrapped over her shoulders like a blanket was his leather mission jacket, the one that he hardly ever wore. One of her hands was clutched tightly around a fold of the dully shining leather, reminding him of a drowning person clinging to a life line. His heart gave a sharp twist at the sight, at this small sign of vulnerability from the woman who had always had to be so strong. His Elizabeth... God, how he’d missed her.
He slowly eased himself onto the bed, trying to avoid any sudden movements that might wake up his sleeping wife, and crawled across the comforter until he was beside her. A smile crept over his face as he saw that she was once again sleeping on top of the covers - it was an occasional quirk of hers that he had never quite figured out the source of. With the same deliberateness of motion as before, he turned on his side and faced her, propping himself up on his elbow with his head on his hand, simply drinking in the sight of her profile as she slept, as if to try and make up for all the time looking he had missed.
Minutes passed this way, with Elizabeth never stirring. Struck by a sudden idea, and figuring she was out of it enough not to be bothered by it, John very, very carefully reached over her and slid the jacket gently out of her hand. She frowned slightly as the coat left her grasp, causing him to bite at his bottom lip nervously, but she didn’t wake, only turned on her side, her back to him. He sat up and shrugged the jacket on over his t-shirt, then laid back down, even closer than before, and hooked one arm over her waist, nuzzling his face against the back of her neck and smiling as the wonderfully familiar smell of her lavender shampoo filled his nostrils. Oh, he’d missed that smell.
Elizabeth smiled in her sleep as she felt his arm around her, instinctively leaning into his embrace and unconsciously laying her free arm on top of his, softly brushing the tips of her fingers against the leather sleeve. Then some part of her brain must have become aware of what was happening and she began the process of waking up. She rolled around so she was facing him, her green eyes fighting to stay closed, but smiling contentedly. She snuggled in closer to him, nestling her head beneath his chin.
“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice thickened by sleep.
He smiled again, this time at the almost child-like happiness in her voice. “Yeah,” he whispered back, his breath stirring her tousled hair. “I’m here.”
“I missed you.” She angled her head towards his.
“I missed you too. So much.” He gave her a soft, gentle kiss and began to lightly stroke her hair with the hand that wasn’t holding her. She settled back against him, and quiet and moonlight took over the room once more.
Just as he felt himself reaching the edges of sleep, he heard a voice. “You always did look good in that jacket,” Elizabeth muttered blearily. He gave a twitch of a smile, and a few moments later they both fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, and, for the first time in weeks, whole.
As she crossed the bridge over into the control room, her eyes were automatically drawn to the stargate below, silent and dim as it loomed over the empty room. Not slowing her pace, she took a few seconds to will the gate to come to life and the symbols to start spinning with the incoming wormhole that she had been waiting for. It had become a sort of tradition for her these past few weeks, that moment of wishing as she left her office for the night, a ritual she performed without fail. It had never worked of course, and tonight was no exception. The gate stayed dark. No one came through. She let out a small huff of air in disappointment.
“Good night ma’am,” said the technician on duty as she walked by.
Elizabeth mustered up a small smile in return. “Good night, Chuck.”
Two minutes and a short walk later, she arrived at her quarters. She swiped at the door panel and walked in, dumping her laptop on the bed and not even bothering to turn the lights on, instead opting for the weaker illumination of the lamp on the bedside table. She was too tired for much light, and it helped to lessen the feeling that there was too much space in the room now that she was living in it by herself. Elizabeth went to the window and stared at the view of the glittering city, lost in thought; absently she began fiddling with her jewelry, running her fingers across the etchings on the round pendant of her silver necklace, then slowly twisting in circles the thin band of gold on her left ring finger. She barely noticed the jewelry’s presence anymore, it had become so much a part of her, but she was instantly uncomfortable the second it was gone. For her, both pieces, which had been carefully made to fit her husband’s exact specifications, served as a constant reminder of him and his love for her, a reminder that in his absence was both wonderful and somewhat painful.
After a few minutes of this silent reflection, Elizabeth snapped out of her reverie and moved away from the window, shaking her head as she took off her jacket and carelessly tossed it away, sending it to join the laptop on the bed. It didn’t stay though, sliding to the floor after only a few second’s contact with the bedspread. She gave a small sigh of frustration and seriously considered just leaving the annoying pile of fabric where it had fallen, but she made herself take the few steps and pick it up.
Propelled by some strange impulse to be neat, instead of just throwing it onto a chair she crossed the room, opened the closet door, found an empty clothes hanger and slung the jacket over it. She hooked the hanger over the rail and was about to close the door again when she glanced over to John’s side of the closet and spotted the sleeve of his leather BDU jacket. It was sticking out from where it hung between his other clothes, the yellow and blue of his spare Atlantis patch contrasting brightly with the black fabric. She took hold of the sleeve, pushing the other clothes out of the way, and swung the coat on its hanger out to look at it.
Elizabeth had always loved the the way John looked in this jacket. He had a special way of wearing it that was indescribably him. Without even trying, he exuded an aura of coolness that no one else could possibly hope to duplicate (and she had seen Rodney try). She smiled as she remembered that special smirk he would send her way when he wore this jacket before they were married - he had to know how good he looked wearing it, no matter how unaware of it he appeared. In her mind there was no way he couldn’t. Even now, she felt like melting into a puddle whenever she saw him in it. But to his credit, if he did know he didn’t take advantage of it very often, much to the disappointment of his wife. He preferred his normal black BDUs or his expedition uniform for mission wear even after a large number of the off-world teams had taken to wearing leather. He didn’t think it was practical.
She ran her thumb over the embroidered patch, the leather of the sleeve gripped in her palm cool against her skin, and was overcome with the nightly wave of missing John. She hid it well during the day, when she could concentrate solely on her job and being the city’s strong leader, but it grew more and more intense the longer he was gone; she hadn’t thought it was possible to miss someone this much. Never had, before him. She needed to hear his voice, see his face, wrap her arms around him...
On another sudden impulse, a different one this time, she pulled the jacket off of its hanger and stuck her arms through the sleeves, putting it on backwards so the coat was in front of her. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the collar, taking a deep breath. Mixed in with the scent of leather was the smell Elizabeth had come to identify with John Sheppard- soap and aftershave and a peculiar spicy scent that was unique to him. She smiled. If she tried very hard not to think it was almost like he was standing next to her.
She stood like this for several minutes, the coat folded around her, just breathing in the smell. When she felt calmer, she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed, laying down on top of the covers and not feeling like taking the time to change into pajamas. She flicked off the light and draped the jacket over her shoulders, tugging it up till it was at her chin, and after taking a few slow, deep, comforting breaths, drifted off to sleep.
kzk
The door to their quarters slid open silently, then closed again moments later with a barely audible hiss. To cut down on noise, John paused a few inches from the door and pried off his boots with the heels of his feet, wincing as one of them fell over with a small thud. He set his battered pack soundlessly on the floor next to them, telling himself that he would deal with it properly in the morning, then walked farther into the shadow filled room, the soft white moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains providing just enough light to keep him from running into anything. Moving as quietly as possible, he crossed the space between him and the bed, weaving around an ottoman that he swore hadn’t been in that spot when he’d left a month ago.
As John reached the edge of the bed, a slight breeze blew in through the half open window, stirring the curtains so that the moonlight briefly poured in uninterrupted. It fell on the sleeping form of his wife, highlighting her features with its silvery glow and casting her sweep of dark curls into contrast with the white pillowcase beneath her head. She looked so peaceful, the stress that often hung around her face when she was awake completely gone. He was glad to see that she was actually asleep and not working. Elizabeth’s work habits sometimes gave him cause for worry; that was why when he had arrived in the gate room minutes ago and heard that she had turned in for the night, he had asked Chuck not to disturb her with the news.
The curtains billowed outward again, and with this second shaft of light he noticed something he had overlooked the first time, focused as he had been on her face. Wrapped over her shoulders like a blanket was his leather mission jacket, the one that he hardly ever wore. One of her hands was clutched tightly around a fold of the dully shining leather, reminding him of a drowning person clinging to a life line. His heart gave a sharp twist at the sight, at this small sign of vulnerability from the woman who had always had to be so strong. His Elizabeth... God, how he’d missed her.
He slowly eased himself onto the bed, trying to avoid any sudden movements that might wake up his sleeping wife, and crawled across the comforter until he was beside her. A smile crept over his face as he saw that she was once again sleeping on top of the covers - it was an occasional quirk of hers that he had never quite figured out the source of. With the same deliberateness of motion as before, he turned on his side and faced her, propping himself up on his elbow with his head on his hand, simply drinking in the sight of her profile as she slept, as if to try and make up for all the time looking he had missed.
Minutes passed this way, with Elizabeth never stirring. Struck by a sudden idea, and figuring she was out of it enough not to be bothered by it, John very, very carefully reached over her and slid the jacket gently out of her hand. She frowned slightly as the coat left her grasp, causing him to bite at his bottom lip nervously, but she didn’t wake, only turned on her side, her back to him. He sat up and shrugged the jacket on over his t-shirt, then laid back down, even closer than before, and hooked one arm over her waist, nuzzling his face against the back of her neck and smiling as the wonderfully familiar smell of her lavender shampoo filled his nostrils. Oh, he’d missed that smell.
Elizabeth smiled in her sleep as she felt his arm around her, instinctively leaning into his embrace and unconsciously laying her free arm on top of his, softly brushing the tips of her fingers against the leather sleeve. Then some part of her brain must have become aware of what was happening and she began the process of waking up. She rolled around so she was facing him, her green eyes fighting to stay closed, but smiling contentedly. She snuggled in closer to him, nestling her head beneath his chin.
“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice thickened by sleep.
He smiled again, this time at the almost child-like happiness in her voice. “Yeah,” he whispered back, his breath stirring her tousled hair. “I’m here.”
“I missed you.” She angled her head towards his.
“I missed you too. So much.” He gave her a soft, gentle kiss and began to lightly stroke her hair with the hand that wasn’t holding her. She settled back against him, and quiet and moonlight took over the room once more.
Just as he felt himself reaching the edges of sleep, he heard a voice. “You always did look good in that jacket,” Elizabeth muttered blearily. He gave a twitch of a smile, and a few moments later they both fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, and, for the first time in weeks, whole.