Title: Waiting Game
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Author: Rose Wilde-Irish
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir
Summary: The waiting is the hardest part.
Notes: For and thanks to qwirky.
Waiting Game
Elizabeth concentrated on trying to see her opponant's eyes and hips, and tried to prepare for attack, tried to stop thinking.
"Eyes. The eyes will telegraph an attack," John's voice came deep and low as he circled around her. "Watch the eyes for a telltale flicker, an indication of where they're going to attack."
She couldn't hold back a smile. "Don't you think my other self-defense teachers might've mentioned this to me, John?"
His only answer was to try to thwack her soundly on the hip - but she blocked it. Barely.
"The other thing they told me was that sometimes it's not the eyes you watch, but the hips. Movement comes from the center." She wasn't smiling now.
John was. "That was very good, Elizabeth," he said, and she frowned.
"That would've left a hell of a bruise, John."
His smile was full of life and trouble. "I'd've kissed it all better."
She wanted to be angry at him, but couldn't hold back the smile.
Teyla offered a firm hand to her, already voicing apologies.
"Don't; it was a good hit," Elizabeth smiled, putting as much fake warmth into it as fifteen years on the diplomatic circuit had taught her.
"Still. I should not have put so much strength behind it. Perhaps I am not suited as your instructor," Teyla said calmly, but Elizabeth heard the underlying tension.
She shook her head. "Really, I--"
Her eyes flickered away from Teyla as her radio crackled.
"Dr. Weir, can you come to the infirmary?"
"Carson!" Elizabeth exclaimed, toggling her radio open. "Is he awake?"
"Nae. I think you need to come and see this for yourself."
"On my way. Weir out." She toggled the radio off, and with a quick jerk of her head, invited Teyla along. The relief on the other woman's face was palpable.
Setting a brisk pace, leaving weapons where they dropped on the floor, the two women set off.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"...it's what I think is the best course of action."
Elizabeth bit the inside of her lip, thinking. "I don't know, Carson...you really don't think there's any other way we can help him?"
"Elizabeth. The changes are progressing; he can't understand us any more, and his internal temperature is spiking. I think it has something to do with the speed at which he's processing things, but I honestly don't know. The only other case we've encountered has been General O'Neill, and the Asgard are the only ones who know exactly how they reversed things. Since we've seen not a sign of them in this galaxy..." He trailed off, helplessly.
She sighed, deeply. "So we're left with only being able to buy some time to find a solution."
Beckett's only answer was a nod, eyes troubled.
She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth briefly. "Do it."
Not waiting to hear his response, she turned and swept out of the room.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elizabeth shifted in her bed, ran a hand from her neck down her breastbone and onto her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking, but it wasn't working.
"God, Elizabeth! You drive me crazy."
Her laugh was throaty as she stroked his back again. "No more than you do me, John," she murmured into his ear and bit lightly. His only answer was a groan. Her hands slipped lower and she pulled him tight against her. His cock was a warm hardness pressed against her and suddenly, she didn't want to wait any longer. She settled her legs on either side of his, arching against him. Her tongue traced a path inside the lines and folds of his ear, and she breathed lightly into the wetness, saying "John" in the quietest of whispers. He gasped and shifted, pressing against her, and she gladly yielded. His cock was both familiar and thrillingly invasive, sending pulses of cold fire through her. She matched his rhythm easily, marveling at how beautfully they fit together. If they could go public it would be perfect, except then it would lose the little thrill of rule-breaking that raced through her every time they were together like this.
Sensing her attention wandering, John licked his way down her neck to her collarbone and sucked gently, one hand stroking her arm. She shivered and increased the pace, concentrating on him, his hardness within her and his hands stroking her, his lips now meeting hers and his tongue stroking her own. He slowly built the pressure within her, playing her until she broke into a million tiny pieces, aware only of how quickly he followed her into the abyss.
She pulled her hand back and rubbed her forehead. It wasn't working. Nothing was distracting her from the problems of the present.
Sighing, she curled into a fetal position, and tried for sleep.
After a while she shut her eyes, one hand scrabbling at the wetness on her cheek.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Rodney stood in front of the statis chamber, drinking coffee absentmindedly as he stared at the occupant within it. He had his laptop open and running on a countertop nearby, with a bunch of drawings spread out messily beside that. "Why couldn't you have kept the language just a bit longer?" he murmured. "That would've been much more helpful. You could've explained a bit more about building the ZPM, instead of just doing the one and sketching out so much. And I could've asked you more about getting the Ancient's database out of your head. Oh, sure, I can see the appeal of taking a little break, but really, don't I have enough on my plate without having to figure out how to save you from scratch?"
Elizabeth shifted against the doorframe, smiling at the little monologue. Rodney turned towards her with a guilty look. He gave her a small smile as the expression softened.
"Hard to stay away, isn't it," Elizabeth not-asked.
"Yes, well..." Rodney said, and shrugged. Elizabeth walked over to the chamber and placed a hand gently on it, roughly where John's cheek was, just six inches away. Slipping the masks back into place, she turned to Rodney with a stiff smile.
"Any ideas?"
Rodney bit his lip and didn't answer. She sighed. "Well, I suppose we can broadcast a call to the Asgard. I know we haven't heard a word of them in this galaxy, but there's so much we just don't know about them...they could be right next door, just following non-interference rules."
"Wistful thinking doesn't help things, Elizabeth."
Her hand impacted with the countertop. "Neither does sticking your head into an Ancient neural interface," she raged, then flinched, locking it down.
"It didn't exactly come with a label, Elizabeth."
"Why didn't Teyla know to stop John?"
"Because none of her people have the Ancient gene! That setup looked just like any other primitive culture's hoop-jumping ritual. There was nothing to indicate what was going on, not one thing."
Too late, Elizabeth heard the self-blame in his voice. "If it's not Teyla's fault, Rodney, it certainly isn't yours."
He gave her one of his wry smiles. "Maybe not for what happened, Elizabeth. Not fixing it, however..." He turned back to stare at the stasis chamber once more. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. For a long time she stood, mesmerized by John's face, memorizing it in a way she'd never been able to, before this. Before, he'd always been too mobile; they'd kept their situation under wraps to avoid problems, so she wasn't able to spend as long as she wanted in contemplation of him.
"Medical emergency! Where the hell is Beckett?" Rodney's voice was frantic, startling Elizabeth out of her chair.
"Rodney, I'm fine. What is with you?"
"No, Major, you're not. That thing that grabbed your head did something to you, and in a few hours you're going to start noticing the changes. Soon you won't understand us, and after that, well, actually, that's a little vague, because of SG-1's tendancy to pull a miracle or an Asgard out of their collective butts, but all that aside, the point is you need help!"
"Rodney, what's going on?" Elizabeth asked.
"I am sorry, Major," Teyla's voice carried to her clearly. "Whenever my people met with the Nara'baski, the ritual was performed without such a response-"
"Nobody's blaming you, Teyla," John said, but Elizabeth knew he was wrong as worry traced an icy path.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Elizabeth, go to sleep."
"I can't sleep, Rodney; I might as well get some work done."
He circled around behind her and grabbed her shoulders. "You're not helping anyone."
"I'm not trying to, Rodney, I'm just trying to do my job."
He spun her around and looked at her. "You're not doing that, either."
"Dammit, Rodney-"
"I can get Carson to prescribe something. He listens to me." And Elizabeth couldn't hold back the snort that thought caused, that Rodney would believe that he could make Carson do anything medical based solely on their friendship. The snort turned into a giggle and then helpless laughter, and finally Elizabeth stopped laughing, breaking her gaze at Rodney's troubled eyes, sides aching.
Maybe Carson would listen to Rodney, because clearly, she was slipping.
A few moments after she'd calmed, she met his eyes again. "How long until you try the procedure?"
"Four hours," he replied.
"And you're sure-"
"No, Elizabeth, I'm not. It's the best I could come up with, using Zelenka as a human Waldo. I didn't dare get near the thing in case it didn't differentiate between a natural Ancient gene and an implanted one. But the best guess the two of us can come up with is, short of the Asgard answering our call, this is John's best hope."
She held his gaze, solemn. "Come get me in four hours, then. I'll want to be there when John gets put back to normal."
His expression softened and the gratitude there made her want to weep. Giving her shoulder a light squeeze, he nodded. "Walk you to your quarters?"
She smiled. "That would be nice, thank you."
"Lovely night for a walk, don't you think, Dr. Weir?" John's voice was lightly teasing, as it so often was. She hoped she was the only one who heard the layers of it.
"Very nice, Major. Where are you headed?"
"I thought I'd go look over the North Pier. Would you like to join me?"
She couldn't keep the grin off her face. "I think I'd love to, John."
With a mocking flourish, he presented his arm to her. She didn't stop grinning as she wrapped an arm in his and allowed him to lead her off. There were reports to write and mission summaries to read, strategies to plan, but they'd be there after the walk. Some things, she reflected, you did for your soul.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The knock on her door, though expected, still startled her. She pulled herself off her bed, still awake, but she'd managed to try to find a little rest. If this worked--no, when this worked, she corrected herself, John would want her to be there and be one hundred percent.
Rodney's face hid nothing, open as it always was. Worry was etched there, but he mustered a tired smile and gestured the way.
She fell into step beside him and ignored the tension pooled within her. Things were going to be all right; they'd have to be. Ford was doing an adequate job, leaning heavily on Bates, but there was only so long they could go without running into a situation that called for the brains/luck/audacity combination that John seemed to embody.
That she'd come to depend upon.
Beckett stood near the stasis chamber as Zelenka busied himself finishing up the connections on a thing that looked part Ancient, part relic, part Frankenstein's lab creation, with cables running all over the place. There was an inelegant looking halo device that Rodney paused to examine, carefully not touching anything. "Is that-" Rodney began.
"Yes, yes, it meets your specifications exactly, Rodney," Zelenka's voice seemed only a touch strained, which Elizabeth took to be a good sign.
"I only wanted-"
"We do not need to bog ourselves down in further discussion. It will either work, or it won't; I fail to see how we can improve on the design at this late date," Zelenka said, and it must've been a measure of how tired Rodney was that he merely nodded.
"You'll only have a moment before his systems are right back where they were when we put him in the chamber, lads," Beckett spoke up.
There was a pause where Rodney stared at Zelenka, who stared at Beckett, who stared at Zelenka. Elizabeth resisted the urge to giggle, or throttle them.
"Well then," Beckett said, finally. "Everyone ready?" After a hurried glance that Elizabeth suspected was becoming their primary means of communication, Rodney and Zelenka nodded. Beckett inhaled deeply. "Here we go, then," he said, and released the chamber. Rodney grappled with John's body, shifting him over to the device, and Zelenka gently placed the halo around John's head, then nodded to Rodney. He leaned in and palmed a panel, which glowed softly.
Elizabeth realized, after the first moment, that she was holding her breath. And John was waking up, blinking in confusion as he looked around the room. He put a hand up to his head as Beckett studied a read-out, making as if to take off the halo.
"Not yet, Major," Rodney said, and John turned to look at him, confusion still on his face. "Do you understand me?" he asked carefully.
John stared at Rodney for a heartbeat, then blinked. "Yes, I do," he said slowly, a smile breaking out on his face. As he removed the halo, Elizabeth found herself rushing to him, not caring about the audience as she wrapped an arm around him.
"Welcome back, John," she said, ignoring the tremor in her voice. "We've missed you."
~fin~
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Author: Rose Wilde-Irish
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir
Summary: The waiting is the hardest part.
Notes: For and thanks to qwirky.
Elizabeth concentrated on trying to see her opponant's eyes and hips, and tried to prepare for attack, tried to stop thinking.
"Eyes. The eyes will telegraph an attack," John's voice came deep and low as he circled around her. "Watch the eyes for a telltale flicker, an indication of where they're going to attack."
She couldn't hold back a smile. "Don't you think my other self-defense teachers might've mentioned this to me, John?"
His only answer was to try to thwack her soundly on the hip - but she blocked it. Barely.
"The other thing they told me was that sometimes it's not the eyes you watch, but the hips. Movement comes from the center." She wasn't smiling now.
John was. "That was very good, Elizabeth," he said, and she frowned.
"That would've left a hell of a bruise, John."
His smile was full of life and trouble. "I'd've kissed it all better."
She wanted to be angry at him, but couldn't hold back the smile.
Teyla offered a firm hand to her, already voicing apologies.
"Don't; it was a good hit," Elizabeth smiled, putting as much fake warmth into it as fifteen years on the diplomatic circuit had taught her.
"Still. I should not have put so much strength behind it. Perhaps I am not suited as your instructor," Teyla said calmly, but Elizabeth heard the underlying tension.
She shook her head. "Really, I--"
Her eyes flickered away from Teyla as her radio crackled.
"Dr. Weir, can you come to the infirmary?"
"Carson!" Elizabeth exclaimed, toggling her radio open. "Is he awake?"
"Nae. I think you need to come and see this for yourself."
"On my way. Weir out." She toggled the radio off, and with a quick jerk of her head, invited Teyla along. The relief on the other woman's face was palpable.
Setting a brisk pace, leaving weapons where they dropped on the floor, the two women set off.
"...it's what I think is the best course of action."
Elizabeth bit the inside of her lip, thinking. "I don't know, Carson...you really don't think there's any other way we can help him?"
"Elizabeth. The changes are progressing; he can't understand us any more, and his internal temperature is spiking. I think it has something to do with the speed at which he's processing things, but I honestly don't know. The only other case we've encountered has been General O'Neill, and the Asgard are the only ones who know exactly how they reversed things. Since we've seen not a sign of them in this galaxy..." He trailed off, helplessly.
She sighed, deeply. "So we're left with only being able to buy some time to find a solution."
Beckett's only answer was a nod, eyes troubled.
She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth briefly. "Do it."
Not waiting to hear his response, she turned and swept out of the room.
Elizabeth shifted in her bed, ran a hand from her neck down her breastbone and onto her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking, but it wasn't working.
"God, Elizabeth! You drive me crazy."
Her laugh was throaty as she stroked his back again. "No more than you do me, John," she murmured into his ear and bit lightly. His only answer was a groan. Her hands slipped lower and she pulled him tight against her. His cock was a warm hardness pressed against her and suddenly, she didn't want to wait any longer. She settled her legs on either side of his, arching against him. Her tongue traced a path inside the lines and folds of his ear, and she breathed lightly into the wetness, saying "John" in the quietest of whispers. He gasped and shifted, pressing against her, and she gladly yielded. His cock was both familiar and thrillingly invasive, sending pulses of cold fire through her. She matched his rhythm easily, marveling at how beautfully they fit together. If they could go public it would be perfect, except then it would lose the little thrill of rule-breaking that raced through her every time they were together like this.
Sensing her attention wandering, John licked his way down her neck to her collarbone and sucked gently, one hand stroking her arm. She shivered and increased the pace, concentrating on him, his hardness within her and his hands stroking her, his lips now meeting hers and his tongue stroking her own. He slowly built the pressure within her, playing her until she broke into a million tiny pieces, aware only of how quickly he followed her into the abyss.
She pulled her hand back and rubbed her forehead. It wasn't working. Nothing was distracting her from the problems of the present.
Sighing, she curled into a fetal position, and tried for sleep.
After a while she shut her eyes, one hand scrabbling at the wetness on her cheek.
Rodney stood in front of the statis chamber, drinking coffee absentmindedly as he stared at the occupant within it. He had his laptop open and running on a countertop nearby, with a bunch of drawings spread out messily beside that. "Why couldn't you have kept the language just a bit longer?" he murmured. "That would've been much more helpful. You could've explained a bit more about building the ZPM, instead of just doing the one and sketching out so much. And I could've asked you more about getting the Ancient's database out of your head. Oh, sure, I can see the appeal of taking a little break, but really, don't I have enough on my plate without having to figure out how to save you from scratch?"
Elizabeth shifted against the doorframe, smiling at the little monologue. Rodney turned towards her with a guilty look. He gave her a small smile as the expression softened.
"Hard to stay away, isn't it," Elizabeth not-asked.
"Yes, well..." Rodney said, and shrugged. Elizabeth walked over to the chamber and placed a hand gently on it, roughly where John's cheek was, just six inches away. Slipping the masks back into place, she turned to Rodney with a stiff smile.
"Any ideas?"
Rodney bit his lip and didn't answer. She sighed. "Well, I suppose we can broadcast a call to the Asgard. I know we haven't heard a word of them in this galaxy, but there's so much we just don't know about them...they could be right next door, just following non-interference rules."
"Wistful thinking doesn't help things, Elizabeth."
Her hand impacted with the countertop. "Neither does sticking your head into an Ancient neural interface," she raged, then flinched, locking it down.
"It didn't exactly come with a label, Elizabeth."
"Why didn't Teyla know to stop John?"
"Because none of her people have the Ancient gene! That setup looked just like any other primitive culture's hoop-jumping ritual. There was nothing to indicate what was going on, not one thing."
Too late, Elizabeth heard the self-blame in his voice. "If it's not Teyla's fault, Rodney, it certainly isn't yours."
He gave her one of his wry smiles. "Maybe not for what happened, Elizabeth. Not fixing it, however..." He turned back to stare at the stasis chamber once more. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. For a long time she stood, mesmerized by John's face, memorizing it in a way she'd never been able to, before this. Before, he'd always been too mobile; they'd kept their situation under wraps to avoid problems, so she wasn't able to spend as long as she wanted in contemplation of him.
"Medical emergency! Where the hell is Beckett?" Rodney's voice was frantic, startling Elizabeth out of her chair.
"Rodney, I'm fine. What is with you?"
"No, Major, you're not. That thing that grabbed your head did something to you, and in a few hours you're going to start noticing the changes. Soon you won't understand us, and after that, well, actually, that's a little vague, because of SG-1's tendancy to pull a miracle or an Asgard out of their collective butts, but all that aside, the point is you need help!"
"Rodney, what's going on?" Elizabeth asked.
"I am sorry, Major," Teyla's voice carried to her clearly. "Whenever my people met with the Nara'baski, the ritual was performed without such a response-"
"Nobody's blaming you, Teyla," John said, but Elizabeth knew he was wrong as worry traced an icy path.
"Elizabeth, go to sleep."
"I can't sleep, Rodney; I might as well get some work done."
He circled around behind her and grabbed her shoulders. "You're not helping anyone."
"I'm not trying to, Rodney, I'm just trying to do my job."
He spun her around and looked at her. "You're not doing that, either."
"Dammit, Rodney-"
"I can get Carson to prescribe something. He listens to me." And Elizabeth couldn't hold back the snort that thought caused, that Rodney would believe that he could make Carson do anything medical based solely on their friendship. The snort turned into a giggle and then helpless laughter, and finally Elizabeth stopped laughing, breaking her gaze at Rodney's troubled eyes, sides aching.
Maybe Carson would listen to Rodney, because clearly, she was slipping.
A few moments after she'd calmed, she met his eyes again. "How long until you try the procedure?"
"Four hours," he replied.
"And you're sure-"
"No, Elizabeth, I'm not. It's the best I could come up with, using Zelenka as a human Waldo. I didn't dare get near the thing in case it didn't differentiate between a natural Ancient gene and an implanted one. But the best guess the two of us can come up with is, short of the Asgard answering our call, this is John's best hope."
She held his gaze, solemn. "Come get me in four hours, then. I'll want to be there when John gets put back to normal."
His expression softened and the gratitude there made her want to weep. Giving her shoulder a light squeeze, he nodded. "Walk you to your quarters?"
She smiled. "That would be nice, thank you."
"Lovely night for a walk, don't you think, Dr. Weir?" John's voice was lightly teasing, as it so often was. She hoped she was the only one who heard the layers of it.
"Very nice, Major. Where are you headed?"
"I thought I'd go look over the North Pier. Would you like to join me?"
She couldn't keep the grin off her face. "I think I'd love to, John."
With a mocking flourish, he presented his arm to her. She didn't stop grinning as she wrapped an arm in his and allowed him to lead her off. There were reports to write and mission summaries to read, strategies to plan, but they'd be there after the walk. Some things, she reflected, you did for your soul.
The knock on her door, though expected, still startled her. She pulled herself off her bed, still awake, but she'd managed to try to find a little rest. If this worked--no, when this worked, she corrected herself, John would want her to be there and be one hundred percent.
Rodney's face hid nothing, open as it always was. Worry was etched there, but he mustered a tired smile and gestured the way.
She fell into step beside him and ignored the tension pooled within her. Things were going to be all right; they'd have to be. Ford was doing an adequate job, leaning heavily on Bates, but there was only so long they could go without running into a situation that called for the brains/luck/audacity combination that John seemed to embody.
That she'd come to depend upon.
Beckett stood near the stasis chamber as Zelenka busied himself finishing up the connections on a thing that looked part Ancient, part relic, part Frankenstein's lab creation, with cables running all over the place. There was an inelegant looking halo device that Rodney paused to examine, carefully not touching anything. "Is that-" Rodney began.
"Yes, yes, it meets your specifications exactly, Rodney," Zelenka's voice seemed only a touch strained, which Elizabeth took to be a good sign.
"I only wanted-"
"We do not need to bog ourselves down in further discussion. It will either work, or it won't; I fail to see how we can improve on the design at this late date," Zelenka said, and it must've been a measure of how tired Rodney was that he merely nodded.
"You'll only have a moment before his systems are right back where they were when we put him in the chamber, lads," Beckett spoke up.
There was a pause where Rodney stared at Zelenka, who stared at Beckett, who stared at Zelenka. Elizabeth resisted the urge to giggle, or throttle them.
"Well then," Beckett said, finally. "Everyone ready?" After a hurried glance that Elizabeth suspected was becoming their primary means of communication, Rodney and Zelenka nodded. Beckett inhaled deeply. "Here we go, then," he said, and released the chamber. Rodney grappled with John's body, shifting him over to the device, and Zelenka gently placed the halo around John's head, then nodded to Rodney. He leaned in and palmed a panel, which glowed softly.
Elizabeth realized, after the first moment, that she was holding her breath. And John was waking up, blinking in confusion as he looked around the room. He put a hand up to his head as Beckett studied a read-out, making as if to take off the halo.
"Not yet, Major," Rodney said, and John turned to look at him, confusion still on his face. "Do you understand me?" he asked carefully.
John stared at Rodney for a heartbeat, then blinked. "Yes, I do," he said slowly, a smile breaking out on his face. As he removed the halo, Elizabeth found herself rushing to him, not caring about the audience as she wrapped an arm around him.
"Welcome back, John," she said, ignoring the tremor in her voice. "We've missed you."
~fin~