Unexpected by Oparu
Author's Chapter Notes: More adventures in the darkened city. John and Elizabeth take a big step. (story's up to R now. Adults will do adult things)
"Again!" He snapped sharply from the void behind her head. Elizabeth tried not to flinch as his boots thumped behind her. John's voice cut across the firing range as if it was a shot itself. The pistol bucked in her hands and she fired five times into the paper target.
"Again."
Five more shots and her hands started to sting from the recoil. He walked behind them stiffly, watching the targets as intently as he watched their positions. He nudged Elizabeth's elbow, forcing it into a better position. "Carson, lift your right arm." John paused for a moment, waiting for the correction before he walked over and moved the other man the way he wanted. "Again."
Five more shots and her eyes were starting to hurt. The black and white of the target melted together in her vision. John's voice rang through her head over the echoes of the shots.
"Again," he paused. "Reload and fire." The rhythm faded to somewhere inside of her becoming part of her heartbeat. Wait, fire, reload and fire. It went on until her fingers cramped around the grip.
"All right, put 'em down."
Carson thudded down to the deck. "My hands aren't ready for this. Bloody thing's worse than trying to repair an intestine."
Rodney wandered up to his target and ripped it down. With the power out, the target range had to be run entirely by hand. "I think I'm getting better. Check it out, there's at least five or six in the center ring." Grinning cheerfully, he started towards the cafeteria. "Yep, definitely starting to get better."
"Tomorrow after dinner the Sheppard school moves on to ARGs." John promised them cheerfully as he let go of his drill sergeant manner. Visibly starting to relax, he grabbed Carson's gun from the floor and pulled him to his feet. "Of course that's only after we all complete another round of fix the city."
"I think I want to try a new game," Carson commented and sighed softly as he followed John towards the door. "Me hands are tired. It's like the first time we got Nintendo. Me brothers and I played for two days straight. I thought I'd have to pry me hands off of the controller."
Elizabeth smiled through her exhaustion at her team.
Rodney had a brilliant grin for her in response, holding his target like a prized Ancient artifact. "Want to bet me who'll be best tomorrow?"
"I'll bet you first choice of the power bars." Elizabeth replied with as she tried to hang onto her smile.
John waited for her, following so he was last out of the room. "How's your leg?"
"Numb," Elizabeth answered softly, smiling through an errant curl of hair that refused to stay behind her ear. "It's kind of nice."
"Wanna go for a walk?" He blushed slightly, something she could barely see in the dark hallway. "A short one, considering your situation."
"A short walk," she repeated as she stopped for a moment. "Might end up being very short."
"It'll be fun?" He offered raising his eyebrows slightly, as if he was testing his own idea.
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his, letting him lead down the hallway. She was so tired her whole body felt as numb as her leg. "Fun." Elizabeth checked the safety and dropped her pistol on the table with the rest. "You might need to define that for me."
"It's a tough word. New concept really." John set the pistols he carried down on the table. He turned over his shoulder to Rodney. "If you clean these, I'll take your turn at dishes."
Rodney jumped to the table of weapons. "Don't have to tell me twice."
Elizabeth couldn't help smiling. Rodney's glee at escaping his least favorite chore was infectious. "You don't mind?"
Shrugging as he extended his arm to her, John shook his head, "Nah. Dishes are easy and it's nice not to have to think for awhile."
"Like solitaire." Elizabeth sighed and remembered sitting in her office when Atlantis was a living city. "Something you can do when your mind needs a break."
"Exactly." John helped her up the steps in the main towers. "Come on, I want you to see this."
Biting her lip covered her wince. "How many stairs?"
"Not many." John gave her both of his hands. "Trust me."
She stopped on the landing, still holding his hands. Her heart was racing too quickly in her chest. "I've always trusted you John." Elizabeth grabbed the railing and continued up without him.
John watched her back as she headed up, noting how her limp returned when she was tired. "Is that why you told me..." His hand closed over hers on the railing, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. "...about Simon?"
"I-" Elizabeth started, but couldn't turn around. She wasn't sure if she'd finish if she had to look at him. "I owed you."
"You owed me?" He followed her up, staying just one step behind her. "Why would you-"
"I should have told you." Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned around. "I trust you with my life. I lay it in your hands without the slightest hesitation. I should have been able to confide in you."
"I didn't send a message because I couldn't think of anything to say." John offered in trade. "When everyone sent messages home, I didn't send one because I didn't know what to say."
"To your parents?" Elizabeth sank to the landing, giving up on her legs when both of them refused to respond.
John sank next to her, letting his hands fall into his lap. "My dad's all I have left. We've just never been close. I sent him a letter when I got promoted. He likes to hear the good things."
"Did he write back?" Elizabeth twitched her fingers, noticing the red skin that was waiting to become a callus.
"He doesn't really do that." John shrugged and ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Maybe if I make general."
Elizabeth reached for his hand and took it. "I'll see what I can do."
He turned his head, meeting her eyes directly. "You keep doing that."
"What?" Her grip tightened instinctually.
"Making me feel better." John got to his feet, dragging her up with him. "I want you to see this. I'll carry you back down if I have too, but I think this is worth seeing."
Sighing theatrically, Elizabeth let him take her further up the stairs. "You might just have to."
"Still tired?" John's hand sent warmth through her arm. Warmth her body was too tired to produce on its own.
"I must have picked up something on Earth." Sweat broke on her forehead, dampening her hair as it faded. "A flu bug or something."
"Just tell your virus it's not welcome in the Pegasus Galaxy." John finally stopped in front of a doorway and fiddled with the crystals until it opened.
The upper observation deck was something she'd seen before, when it was above the water it had been beautiful. Now it was astonishing. Water was all around her, as if she'd stepped into the ocean itself. Without John's flashlight the only light was the thin blue that poured through the water. Far above the surface gleamed silver in the darkness.
"Worth it?" John whispered behind her head.
Startled out of the water, Elizabeth nodded dumbly. "Yes." Her voice did work after all, for a while she'd doubted she even remembered how to speak.
His thumbs found the top of her neck, running gently over the tense muscles he found there. A shiver ran all the way down her neck. She turned around faster than she thought she could still move. He caught her, pulling her closer. Elizabeth's head ended up on his chest, tucked beneath his chin. She sighed heavily, relaxing into his scent. So rarely did she ever let go, that she barely understood what she felt.
John moved his head back and forth, feeling her hair move in waves under his chin. "Tired?"
"Too tired." Elizabeth closed her eyes again, pretending she could hear the ocean. "I just can't get myself going."
"You'll bounce back." He ran his hand up her back, warming her shoulder. "You've always been springy."
"Springy." Elizabeth laughed, nearly pulling out of his arms as she doubled up. "I like that."
"You're positive. Sometimes I think you're crazy, but you're positive." John released her, letting her lean against the railing until the giggling stopped.
She should have been able to control herself, but something kept setting her off. "Springy. Like a tree?"
"Like a little tree." John corrected with a grin. "A baby one."
She only laughed harder, gasping for air between fits. Sinking to the floor, her head dropped to her hands. Her eyes started to tear up and John dropped to his knees next to her, his amusement turning to concern. "A baby tree. I'm sorry-" Elizabeth covered her mouth and wiped tears from her eyes. "I think that's-"
"The stupidest compliment you've ever gotten." Sulking slightly, John leaned back and stared up at the surface.
"Certainly the most original." She took a slow breath, trying to contain her laughter. Elizabeth was so tired that even John's pout was amusing. "Thank you." She quieted her giggles, thinning her lips into a fine line. "I appreciate it."
"I work hard to impress you." John teased as seriously as he could. "Stay awake at night, trying to find a way to beat you in a verbal sparring match."
With the railing she managed to regain her feet, smirking so strongly that her lips stung. "You're going to have to sleep less."
John stopped her at the head of the stairs, cupping the back of her head with his hand. "As you wish." His pout gave way to that cryptic smile, as if he had turned the tables on her without Elizabeth even seeing it coming.
"Now, the shortest straw gets dishes. We've gotten behind over the last couple days so one of you better pull it." Rodney set up the straws in his hand and held them out to "Longest straw gets to make dinner then?"
Ronan grabbed one and waited patiently with it out in front of him. Carson demurred, "Ladies first."
Teyla's was about the same size as Ronan's. She held it alongside his and smiled cheerfully. "It looks like dishes will not be my chore tonight."
"I'm going fishing." Ronon crossed his arms across his chest, already content that he'd won.
Elizabeth's straw was woefully shorter than Teyla's and going by the gleeful look on Rodney's face, it was the shortest. Carson and John picked next. Carson's was definitely the longest but he didn't seem overly bothered.
Rodney nearly skipped away with glee. "I'm sorry," he offered weakly. "It's just that I hate dishes with an abiding passion."
Elizabeth sighed slightly, more exhausted than frustrated with her task. She disappeared into the back room without complaint. Teyla and Ronon wandered off to see if there were any fish in the ocean that could be coaxed up with a long line.
John held up his straw next to Carson's and shrugged. "Feel like trading? I'm in a camp stove mood."
Carson took with a wink. "I'll bet that's what you're really after."
"I just happen to like cooking." John made a face when Carson smacked his shoulder. "All right, all right!"
"She feeling any better?" Carson wondered politely. "She always tells me she's fine, but she's looking a little peaked." He leaned in closer to John conspiratorially. "Her red blood cell count's going to be a bit slow coming back up after an injury like that, but Elizabeth's just not getting better as quickly as I'd like to see."
"I'll be-" John stopped, furrowing his brow a little.
"Sensitive," Carson finished for him and patted him on the back. "That's a good lad."
John waved absently and grabbed the cook stove. He could just as easily make dinner in the back room, where he could be sensitive at the same time.
Elizabeth stood over the sink with the lantern balanced on the counter next to her. The sink was full of water, but her hands were resting on the edge. She wasn't moving. He snuck up on her and put a hand on her back. "How's it going?"
She whirled around, startled out of her thoughts. Elizabeth's hands dripped dishwater on his chest. "You-"
"I'm a sneak." He dropped his hands to her shoulders and looked over the sink of dishes. "You're not getting very far."
"I know." Elizabeth shook her head and let his hands steady her shoulders. "I guess I'm just tired."
"We've been working eighteen hour days trying to fix the city." John rubbed his hands down her arms, taking half a step closer. "We're all tired."
"You're not spacing out over the sink." She let him wrap his arms around her waist. "What are we doing?"
"Standing in the kitchen." John's chin found its way to her shoulder. "Not doing any dishes."
"I meant us." The smell of the dish soap turned her stomach. "What are you and I?"
"Unlucky." John teased as he contemplated her ear. He could nibble it all the way across to her neck.
Elizabeth dried her hands on her pants and tried to ignore the smell of the soap. "You traded for this."
"Right." John's fingers intertwined around her waist, settling there permanently. The pressure almost helped her stomach. "You're unlucky and I'm a sucker."
"Better." Closing her eyes for a moment felt lovely, they'd been open so long the itch behind them had turned into a full blown headache.
Settling deeper into her shoulder, John turned his thoughts to food. "What do you want for dinner?"
Shaking herself out of being comfortable, Elizabeth returned to the dishes with gusto. "I don't think I'll eat."
He let her work and started looking through what he had to work with. "Stomach messed up again?" John didn't need to ask. He'd watched her hide half of her uneaten power bar that morning, and sat next to her when she picked at lunch. Whatever was bothering her was still a problem.
"It comes and goes." Elizabeth offered pathetically as she turned away from what seemed like an overpowering smell of soap and the remnants of Tava bean stew. She covered her face suddenly, muffling her as she breathed through her mouth.
John stopped fiddling with the flame on the cook stove. "Something the matter?"
Elizabeth crossed the kitchen and stopped by the empty cabinets. "I just can't handle the smell."
Curiously checking the sink, John had to admit that he didn't smell anything. "What smell?"
"Lemon and leftover MREs." Crossing her arms across her chest defensively, Elizabeth tried to describe it better. "Something rotting?"
"It's just soap." John dug around for a while, soaking his hands up to the wrists. He collected a pile of bubbles and blew them towards the empty half of the kitchen. "Seems all right to me."
"I'm going crazy." Elizabeth sighed as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter. Her hand returned to her nose, but her eyes carried her apology. "I really am. I can't do dishes because the smell of them makes me nauseated? What is that?"
"I'm sure it's nothing. I've probably just ruined my sense of smell by being in the military." John dug around in the bubbles until he found a sponge. "I'll wash, you can finish putting packets of spaghetti into my boiling water."
"Have I mentioned I miss our cooks?" Her feet thumped lightly on the floor. She barely limped at all now, and Carson was nearly ready to remove her stitches. "Especially the younger one, who's English wasn't that-"
"Englishy." John stacked soapy dishes in the sink of his right, waiting until he had enough to rinse. "Made a good goulash."
Six packets of powdered sauce and dry noodles dropped neatly in the boiling water as she stirred. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to admit there's such a thing as a good goulash."
"Maybe next week when we've eaten most of the good MREs." John ran his rinse water and turned to watch her stirring. "Better?"
"Yes." Elizabeth's smile was genuine. "I told you. It comes and goes. Sometimes I think I'm going to throw up, but sometimes I feel completely normal."
"Weird." John tightened his eyebrows, wondering if he'd failed entirely at being sensitive. "Ever had it before?"
"No." Elizabeth set her spoon down for a moment and thought harder. "I got food poisoning once in the edge of the Congo, but that was much more intense."
"Instead of wanting to throw up, or even getting to think you wanted to throw up, you just threw up." John turned back to his dishes. "A lot. Saw it every once in awhile, especially when I got stationed somewhere more exotic."
Taking his tactic and sneaking up behind him, Elizabeth made him jump when she touched his shoulders. "I remember thinking afterwards that it was the worst I'd ever felt." She grinned and winked. "Now we're even." Leaving the memory of her smile to tease him, she returned to check on dinner. "Of course I was wrong."
John finished a precarious stack of clean metal dishes with pride. "Oh?"
"Letting Carson dig metal out of my leg trumped it." Elizabeth glanced down at the ruin of her pant leg.
"You're not limping much anymore." John pointed out as he turned proudly from the empty sink.
"It doesn't hurt like it did." Giving John a look as he stuck a spoon into pot of spaghetti to taste it, Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "Don't get me wrong, Carson did a good job. Doesn't even look like it's going to scar."
John examined the line of stitches on her leg as he licked the spoon clean. "It won't, not too badly anyway. Looks good enough to start hand to hand tomorrow."
"More teachings from the Sheppard school of commando tactics?" Elizabeth shut off the stove and waited for him.
"I'm thinking of calling it the Sheppard School of kicking Replicator ass." John snuck his hand around and into hers. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Her sleeping bag rustled at his side. They'd started out nearly a meter apart when he'd first set out the sleeping bags. Night by night they'd gotten closer and closer together. Now when Elizabeth moved in the dark, he felt it. He felt her stirring stop when she fell asleep. Today he'd awakened with her head on his chest. John's hand slipped into her hair. McKay had started giving both of them odd looks whenever they were together.
Carson kept coming up with reasons for them to be together. He always chose Rodney as his sparring partner. They'd had two weeks of this. Sleeping in a group on the floor of the cafeteria, crawling across the floor from breakfast until just before dinner. Sheppard's school of Replicator ass-kicking had advanced to hand to hand and strike team tactics, but they were all tired.
Rodney's insistence on an early start became less enthusiastic every morning. Carson was getting grumpy. A lucky blow of his during a sparring match had left a deep black bruise on Rodney's cheek. Teyla had gotten tired and quiet. She was still the first one up every morning, but she'd started brewing her tea stronger each time. Elizabeth seemed to function on some kind of autopilot. She was paler every morning and the skin of her face had gotten tight over her cheekbones.
John brought his other hand up to her shoulder, holding her closer. He still had a few minutes before Teyla came to shake him awake. It was these moments he savored, the quiet when all he had to think about was the weight of her on his chest. He wasn't tired when she touched him. He could always find a way to smile when she looked at him. It was weird. With Elizabeth curled up alongside of him, the floor didn't feel hard.
Teyla's footsteps moved softly through their camp. He'd squandered his time before daybreak. John shook Elizabeth gently, trying to rouse her as sensitively as he could. She moaned and clung tighter to him. "Come on Elizabeth, time to drink tea and pretend its coffee."
Shaking herself awake, Elizabeth nodded and retreated back to her own sleeping bag. "In a second."
Rodney was already taking his breakfast and retreating to the lab. He waved to John curtly with a hand full of a power bar. "Morning."
Carson yawned his way through his greeting. His beard just made him look scruffier in the weak light of their lantern. "See you for lunch." Though they all returned at the end of the day, everyone was so strained that avoidance had become part of their standard behavior.
Ronan departed as well, raising his eyebrows at John in the way that made him feel like he'd been caught in the cookie jar. "Later."
"I will see you at lunch?" Teyla wondered gently as she poured John the darkest cup of tea he'd ever had.
"We'll see you." John promised as he gulped down his tea and poured himself another cup. Teyla's hunting tea was usually weak, pleasantly earthly and a poor substitute for coffee. When over-brewed it was bitter, caustic and a poor substitute for bad coffee. He dipped one of the precious chocolate peanut butter power bars into the brackish tea and tried to decide if it helped the taste of his tea, or ruined his power bar.
Elizabeth kept her eyes shut, hoping if she just didn't move, her stomach would calm itself down. Instead of quieting, it leapt into her throat. Her feet brought her to the kitchen. Her chest clamped down tight and she lost control. Her stomach finally followed through on its threat of revolt.
Stomach fluid spilled from her mouth, burning the back of her throat. Her eyes teared up as she gasped for air. Her stomach convulsed again, tightening all the muscles in her back. Clinging to the stone rim of the sink, her palms were instantly slick with sweat. Her tongue felt swollen and fuzzy in her mouth. Acrid and slickly sweet, the smell cut through the air in the kitchen. Fighting to catch her breath, Elizabeth hit clumsily at the faucet until the water came on. Watching it wash away the mess worked for a moment, but then her stomach rebelled again.
She had little to throw up the second time. It didn't stop her from losing the ability to breath for a few seconds. Her hair tumbled out from behind her ears, falling across her face. She cupped her hands to drink, wetting her hair as she rinsed out her mouth. Spitting the water out and drinking again, Elizabeth tried to get the horrible taste out of her mouth.
"Here." John tucked a cup into her hands. "Easier." His hands stayed with her, steadying her grip as she filled the cup. He guided the half-full cup to her mouth and let her drink it. "Spit it out again," he suggested as he filled the cup a second time. Letting her swallow a few sips, he dried his hands on his shirt and put a one hand on her forehead and the other on the back of her neck.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth wondered as she left the cup in the sink.
"No fever." John offered simply as he led her over to the counter. Lifting her up and sliding her back, he smiled comfortingly. "Thought you were getting better."
Elizabeth tried to come up with something to say. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and leaned back against the wall. "I was."
"I know you want to be." John pulled himself up on the counter next to her. "I know the last thing you want to do right now is be weak. Be sick, let us down." Folding her hands tightly in her lap, she tried to warm them by forcing them between her thighs. Without saying anything he reached across and took her hands. Even damp, his were warmer and heat bled into her chill fingers.
"I'm not sick." She insisted feebly. Even with her stomach empty, nausea still threatened her control. Elizabeth took her hands back, crossing her arms across her chest instead.
"Okay." John remained maddeningly calm. He looked over at the sink and back to her. "Then why are you throwing up?"
"Oh I don't know." Elizabeth offered with more venom than she intended. "For two weeks I've had little sleep and nothing to eat, but power bars. And it seems so damn easy for the rest of you." Hopping off the counter, she started to pace angrily. "Teyla and Ronan are used to living in the woods and eating whatever they find. God, Rodney even likes MREs."
"We're all stressed." John smoothed over gently. He studying his fingernails and waited for her to tire herself out. "Carson's getting better at fighting because it's a good outlet for his aggression. Teyla makes her tea stronger every morning. Ronan spends his free time fishing in an ocean that can't possibly have anything we could catch. Rodney's just busy. If he ever gets unbusy he'll be miserable."
Her rage started to fade, reminding her that more than anything, she was tired. John swung his feet back and forth lazily. "We're almost done with the gate. We'll all feel better when we're not trapped here anymore. You gotta admit you miss the sky."
Elizabeth could not be comforted. Exhaustion ruled her mind and ran through her body in waves. "How do you keep yourself going? How can you sit there and act like everything's going to be all right." She narrowed her eyebrows and advanced on him. "We were lucky no one was seriously hurt when we took the city. How many surgeries can Carson perform without anesthetic?" Kneeling down, she angrily ripped the gauze from her leg, exposing the line of bright green stitches in her pink skin. "How much damage can the six of us really do against a whole city of Replicators that understand Ancient technology enough to actually build ZPMs?"
"Aren't we just deluding ourselves?" Elizabeth balled up the gauze in her hands and threw it onto the floor. "Convincing ourselves that somehow any feeble response we can come up with will make a difference?"
John finally slid off the counter. When his feet hit the floor, he came up swinging. "Where the hell is this coming from?"
"What?" Shocked away from her fears, she recoiled slightly.
"What happened to you never saying die? Never giving up? Always being the one-" John tried to speak, but she cut him off.
"Maybe I can't-" Elizabeth snapped over him and he caught her hand, pushing her back towards the sink. "You can't expect me to have a bottomless reserve-"
John held her hand in an iron grip. "Who never, ever let me give up." He flattened her between him and the sink, feeling her breasts give in and he pressed against her chest. His free hand cupped her chin, searching for the strength he knew had to be in there.
"What do you want from me?" Her voice cracked, running out of anger and faltering. John's green eyes froze her heart in her throat.
"You asked-" His fingers loosened, no longer threatening the circulation in her arm. "You asked me what kept me going."
Elizabeth shivered under his gaze, feeling her anger melt into shame. Her stomach knotted again. "John, don't."
"You." His hand dropped from her arm, but when she tried to turn her gaze, both hands caught her chin. "I know you never give up. You always manage to smile. No matter what happens, being with you, Elizabeth," he told her as his voice softened to a whisper as exhaustion settled into his shoulders. "Is enough for me." John held her a moment longer. Keeping close enough that she could see the pulse of life in his neck and feel his breath as he sighed in defeat.
"Maybe we should work separately today." John's hands dropped away like stones and he turned his back. Without looking over his shoulder, he paused, "I hope you're feeling better."
Elizabeth sank to the floor, completely deflated by her failure. Her stomach knotted with guilt, twisting together with the remnants of nausea. She'd done it now, pushed him past his breaking point and left him as desolated as she was. The floor was cold and her back tightened against the metal behind her. Her chest was so tight it seemed like breathing would be impossible. Stinging behind her eyes burst through her tear ducts. She wasn't going to cry. Crying would waste energy and leave her worse than she was. Her hands were dry and rough as she wiped the tears away. Getting to her feet, she forced her emotion down into her stomach.
There was nothing left to do but work on the city. Making sure they were physically safe would have to come before her heart. If she lived until tomorrow, she might know what to say. Picking up the toolkit brought old complaints from the muscles of her back. Everything hurt but Elizabeth let herself go numb. Her feet mattered until she reached the hole in the floor of the corridor. After that all she needed were her hands. Aching as they repaired a crystal, her fingers moved on to the next.
When her eyes grew tired she worked blind. Feeling the chill of the crystal fade when power returned. Working in her self-induced coma, gave her too much time to think. John wandered into the back of her mind and refused to leave her alone. His eyes went dark and sad, fading like the sea at twilight. His smile failed to stir his lips. She'd done that to him. She'd gutted him.
Debating for only a moment, Elizabeth left her toolkit where it was. Crossing her arms over her chest, she felt her stomach ease as soon as she started to walk. The crystals would have to wait; she had other repairs to make first.
"Dammit." Dropping the tiny electric tool, John stuffed his fingers in his mouth. Tasting blood and burned flesh, he grimaced and sat up from his work. "Stupid..." He pulled them out of his mouth and studied the damage. His pointer finger would be fine, but his middle finger had a nasty burn that was already starting to blister. He should have been paying more attention.
He should definitely not be thinking of the way Elizabeth's breasts seemed to have become fuller. Maybe it was the change from red to black, some kind of optical illusion. He couldn't really ask anyone. His fingers were forgotten as his mind wandered down her body. John sighed and tried to force himself back to work. Hurting his hand was a lousy reason to stop, he reminded himself. Checking his finger again to make sure the bleeding had stopped, he stuffed his arms back into the floor.
He hummed to himself as he went, missing the sound of footsteps as she approached. John was repeating the theme to "Monday Night Football" for the fourth time when she touched his shoulder. Jumping out of his hole in the floor, he nearly wrenched his shoulder as he got to his knees.
"I'm sorry." Elizabeth pulled back, losing her resolve as soon as he looked at her. "I didn't mean-"
"It's okay." Her hand was off of her shoulder, but he desperately wanted it back. John got to his feet slowly, waiting for her to make the first move.
Elizabeth sighed heavily, feeling the air pour out of her chest in a flood. "I wanted to apologize. What I said earlier was-"
He quickly waved her quiet. "I said it was okay. You've been sick. You're tired-"
"It's no excuse." Correcting him firmly, Elizabeth took a tiny step towards him.
John shook out his injured fingers, trying to knock the pain out of them. "I don't need you to apologize." One corner of his mouth rose in the ghost of a smile. "I understand."
She caught his wrist, lifting his injured fingers to examine them. "Are you hurt?"
"Just clumsy." John tried to ignore the tingling sensation her fingers sent up his arm. "Messed up and burned myself."
"It's tougher doing this alone." Elizabeth dropped to the floor, finishing his circuit neatly.
"Yeah." John sat down next to her, watching her hair fall elegantly across her cheek as she worked. "It sucks. I-"
Her head shot up, stopping him mid-thought. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've been wonderful. Really wonderful."
"I didn't-" John's protesting came to a halt when she caught his arm.
"You've been patient, caring, and more than understanding. You've taken care of all of us since we arrived." Elizabeth watched as he took her hand. He cradled it, slowly turning her hand until it slipped easily into his own.
"That's my job." Wondering how her fingers could be so delicate, John ran his thumb across the back of her hand.
Spilling light from her eyes, her smile erupted like a sunrise. "You're above and beyond the call of duty."
"Just bucking for another promotion." John teased lightly, feeling his concern disappear into her smile. "General John Sheppard just has a lovely ring to it, don't you think?"
Helping him slide the stone back in place, Elizabeth just sat and stared at him. His lips twitched, as if he had gotten the joke she'd missed. Finally, she had to look away before he overwhelmed her.
John waited, studying the line of her sleeve and remembering the perfect expanse of skin beneath her sleeve. Out of all the confusion of that morning, his glimpse of her naked back had stayed in his memory. "What?"
"I didn't say anything." Elizabeth offered weakly as she felt the stone seep cold through her legs.
John's finger traced the nearly invisible line of the floor tile. "I thought..." he trailed off.
Stubble scratched against her hand when she reached for his face. "John..." She cut off as her voice failed her again. "...I do need to say something."
He stopped drawing circles on the floor. His heart stopped in his chest. His own voice echoed in from kilometers away. "Okay." Looking up was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Her eyes bored into him, scaring his mind clean of thoughts of her skin as if she'd been reading his mind.
Elizabeth blinked once, struggling against the dryness in her mouth. "I count on you." Pathetically trying to keep her composure, she bit her lip before she admitted, "You make sure everyone comes home. You're the great protector. The one who holds us all together." The hand on his face moved across his cheek. Her eyes were too bright. "I'm always helpless, standing up there in command."
"You're never helpless." John felt her fingers leave a cool trail across his upper lip. Shivering slightly, he turned his head back into her hand.
"I send you." Elizabeth insisted as her hand ran down his neck. Her fingers stopped on the edge of his shirt collar. "You're my champion." John stopped her hand from dropping any farther, catching it like a wandering leaf. "The receiver who always catches that impossible pass."
"See I'm actually a terrible receiver." John felt the blood burning his face. "My hands are really kind of pathetic."
Elizabeth crushed his protests with a kiss. Her tongue invaded his mouth, reminding him that there were some things he couldn't joke his way out of. Her hair tickled his cheek and the hand he held found its way to the back of his neck. It slid down his back, finding the hem and sneaking inside his shirt.
John jumped back, crashing into the wall in his surprise. "We really shouldn't," he pointed out as his heart pounded like a helicopter rotor in his chest.
Getting carefully to her feet, Elizabeth lowered her hand to him. "Let go." Her voice was softer than he was used to. Her eyes were deeper.
He reached up, pushing himself up to meet her. John's knees quivered, reminding him of his first time in a fighter jet. She looked around, searching the hallway for a familiar doorway. Finding her target, Elizabeth pulled him towards the crystals controlling it. Their hands collided as they realigned the center crystal, sending a jolt up her arm.
The door hissed softly, losing its seal. Elizabeth pushed him back against it, surprising him with her ferocity. John held back, trying to ignore her hands in the belt loops of his pants. "Are you sure?" He asked finally, shivering again when she kissed the edge of his jaw.
"I want you." Elizabeth pulled back, studying the conflict in his face. "I can hear a thousand reasons why I shouldn't shouting in my head."
"You're not thinking clearly." John argued, feebly keeping her half an arm's length away. "You..." Elizabeth's smile made it impossible to remember what he was going to say. "...are beautiful." John dropped his hands to his sides, losing his will to fight. He turned them around, opening the door and pushing her into the empty conference room as he left his sense behind him.
He returned her kiss, experimenting with the curves of her lips. Elizabeth giggled slightly as she pulled away. Teasing as she backed up to the table. His hands were on her hips when she slid back onto the table. Fingers found the ribs beneath her skin, running down her spine. She jumped, shivering as he found a sensitive nerve.
John backed away, feeling his heartbeat rush in his chest. "Is this right?"
Elizabeth shook her head, reaching down to unlace her boot. One of them thudded down onto the floor. "Are you always so talkative with women?"
"No," John replied numbly as he watched her remove her second boot and drop it to the floor. "Women don't make me nervous." He should take off his shoes. He knelt, fumbling with the laces. "You make me nervous."
"Me?" She wondered gently, feeling the cold air of the room through her socks. Her voice cut through his unease, lilting through his head. "Come here." Her chin bobbed slightly as she smiled involuntarily.
John stopped in his tracks, feeling more naked under her gaze than he'd been back on Ceol. He left his boots by the door. His feet padded silently across the stone-like floor. "Okay."
"Let's try this from the beginning." Elizabeth suggested as she took a deep breath. Her skin tingled, as if the room was filled with a static charge. One hand caught his arm, gently easing him closer. His lips were cool against her own. Her tongue flicked against his, searching for his permission. John moved his head, tilting for a better angle.
His nose pressed against her cheek as he whispered, "Okay." His hands slipped between her and the table, running around the curve of her hips before they crept upwards.
Delicate fingers dug into his back, dancing up towards his neck. The shivering came again, leaving only curiosity behind. Wrapping his arms around her back made it easier to kiss her. Elizabeth slid forward on the table, running one leg up his thigh.
One of her teeth nicked his lip and her apology came out in a giggle. "Sorry."
He ran his finger over his lip and shrugged. "Didn't think you were the type. I'll try to keep up." He winked and dove into her neck, nibbling up to her ear.
She gasped and pulled him closer. His hands found her skin just beneath her black shirt. The fabric gave, letting him run them up her back. Elizabeth turned her attention to his shirt, and stopped kissing him long enough to yank it over his head. Surprise made him pause, realizing how vulnerable he was. The only sound was their breathing and the occasional whisper of clothing.
John took his time with her shirt, easing it up her stomach as he discovered the skin beneath. As he pulled it up over her bra, the blush crept over her cheeks. "Beautiful," he pronounced with a shy smile. Her breasts swelled within the simple black cotton of her bra. The curved wires sat firmly on her chest. He was so distracted by them that she had to finish taking off her shirt on her own. Elizabeth dropped her arms to her sides waiting for him to look up.
John's tongue licked across his lower lip. "Wow." His hands hovered over his chest.
Her laughter bounced in her chest. "Good wow?" Elizabeth teased as her blush grew on her face.
"The best wow," John admitted as he finally brought his attention back to her face.
"Better than you imagined?" Her arms snuck around his neck, pulling him closer.
Nodding seriously, he ran his fingers up her arms to her shoulders. "Yeah."
Elizabeth kissed a line across his collarbone, giggling as he tried to lift her head to kiss her. "You imagined?"
He crushed her mouth, kissing the giggles out of her. "Well yeah." His eyebrows insisted he was serious. "How could I not?"
Her head pulled back, tossing her hair down her neck. "Should I take it as a compliment?"" Elizabeth's fingers traced the line down his chest towards his stomach and he groaned under his breath.
"Now who's talking?" John undid the top button of her pants and worked his way down the zipper. He deftly slid her pants down to the table, waiting for her to squirm the rest of the way out of them. The hair on his chest tickled her stomach. The table was decidedly cooler when all she had left were her underwear. John tossed her pants and their shirts up on the table behind her. His pants followed as soon as she freed them from his ankles.
He laid her back, taking the time to examine the long lines of her torso. John slipped easily between her legs, letting her knees box him in. He reached underneath her for the claps of her bra and paused. Fully in awe of the women beneath him, he spent a long, glorious moment sweeping the straps of her bra over her shoulders.
He was warm and solid over her, making up for the heat she lost to the chill of the table. Elizabeth's bra slid off the edge of the table and vanished. John's boxer shorts were soft against her inner thighs. Slowly running his fingers around the lower curve of her breasts, he made his way painstakingly to her nipples. Feeling them harden in response to his touch, Elizabeth pulled him tighter, grinding her body against his.
Cool fingers slipped inside the elastic of his boxers and sent them away. His right hand cupped her butt, pulling her panties down to her thighs. A finger danced along the burning skin of her legs before banishing her panties to the forgotten floor. The muscles of his arms hardened as he moved above her. Desperation rushed through them and demanded more oxygen. Sweat broke on his hairline. The table was finally warm under her back. Tilting back her legs let him into her body.
John's head swam, only her mouth against his drew him back to her and the table beneath his hands. He fought his own desires, reminding himself that patience was the better part. Aching for more speed, his body screamed back as he moved slowly within her. Elizabeth's eyes were locked on his, her fingers digging into the skin of his back stung when her nails turned on him. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, teasing him with the glory of her. His butt was firm and smooth beneath her calf when she moved her leg up over his back.
Her chest shuddered in his arms and Elizabeth's eyes grew wet with tears. The teeth biting her lip turned it as white as her smile. He gave her his hand, bending hers back to the table. He nearly crushed her when his body spasmed in release. Gasping as his senses slowly brought him back to his body; John kept her in his arms. Elizabeth wiped tears from her eyes with trembling fingers. Kissing his cheek gently, still unable to speak, she smiled. Closing her eyes so the lashes picked up the last of the dampness, she sighed languidly.
John rolled back to the table, letting it seep the extra heat of his body. Her hand was still in the hair on the back of his neck when she rolled to lie on his chest. Any hesitation left within him died in her eyes. Quiet contentment radiated from her face, suffusing him with new warmth. Lifting his head enough to kiss her again John let himself relax.
"Wow."
Many thanks again to Shannon. Who deserves cookies for putting up with 17 pages chapters..
"Again."
Five more shots and her hands started to sting from the recoil. He walked behind them stiffly, watching the targets as intently as he watched their positions. He nudged Elizabeth's elbow, forcing it into a better position. "Carson, lift your right arm." John paused for a moment, waiting for the correction before he walked over and moved the other man the way he wanted. "Again."
Five more shots and her eyes were starting to hurt. The black and white of the target melted together in her vision. John's voice rang through her head over the echoes of the shots.
"Again," he paused. "Reload and fire." The rhythm faded to somewhere inside of her becoming part of her heartbeat. Wait, fire, reload and fire. It went on until her fingers cramped around the grip.
"All right, put 'em down."
Carson thudded down to the deck. "My hands aren't ready for this. Bloody thing's worse than trying to repair an intestine."
Rodney wandered up to his target and ripped it down. With the power out, the target range had to be run entirely by hand. "I think I'm getting better. Check it out, there's at least five or six in the center ring." Grinning cheerfully, he started towards the cafeteria. "Yep, definitely starting to get better."
"Tomorrow after dinner the Sheppard school moves on to ARGs." John promised them cheerfully as he let go of his drill sergeant manner. Visibly starting to relax, he grabbed Carson's gun from the floor and pulled him to his feet. "Of course that's only after we all complete another round of fix the city."
"I think I want to try a new game," Carson commented and sighed softly as he followed John towards the door. "Me hands are tired. It's like the first time we got Nintendo. Me brothers and I played for two days straight. I thought I'd have to pry me hands off of the controller."
Elizabeth smiled through her exhaustion at her team.
Rodney had a brilliant grin for her in response, holding his target like a prized Ancient artifact. "Want to bet me who'll be best tomorrow?"
"I'll bet you first choice of the power bars." Elizabeth replied with as she tried to hang onto her smile.
John waited for her, following so he was last out of the room. "How's your leg?"
"Numb," Elizabeth answered softly, smiling through an errant curl of hair that refused to stay behind her ear. "It's kind of nice."
"Wanna go for a walk?" He blushed slightly, something she could barely see in the dark hallway. "A short one, considering your situation."
"A short walk," she repeated as she stopped for a moment. "Might end up being very short."
"It'll be fun?" He offered raising his eyebrows slightly, as if he was testing his own idea.
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his, letting him lead down the hallway. She was so tired her whole body felt as numb as her leg. "Fun." Elizabeth checked the safety and dropped her pistol on the table with the rest. "You might need to define that for me."
"It's a tough word. New concept really." John set the pistols he carried down on the table. He turned over his shoulder to Rodney. "If you clean these, I'll take your turn at dishes."
Rodney jumped to the table of weapons. "Don't have to tell me twice."
Elizabeth couldn't help smiling. Rodney's glee at escaping his least favorite chore was infectious. "You don't mind?"
Shrugging as he extended his arm to her, John shook his head, "Nah. Dishes are easy and it's nice not to have to think for awhile."
"Like solitaire." Elizabeth sighed and remembered sitting in her office when Atlantis was a living city. "Something you can do when your mind needs a break."
"Exactly." John helped her up the steps in the main towers. "Come on, I want you to see this."
Biting her lip covered her wince. "How many stairs?"
"Not many." John gave her both of his hands. "Trust me."
She stopped on the landing, still holding his hands. Her heart was racing too quickly in her chest. "I've always trusted you John." Elizabeth grabbed the railing and continued up without him.
John watched her back as she headed up, noting how her limp returned when she was tired. "Is that why you told me..." His hand closed over hers on the railing, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. "...about Simon?"
"I-" Elizabeth started, but couldn't turn around. She wasn't sure if she'd finish if she had to look at him. "I owed you."
"You owed me?" He followed her up, staying just one step behind her. "Why would you-"
"I should have told you." Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned around. "I trust you with my life. I lay it in your hands without the slightest hesitation. I should have been able to confide in you."
"I didn't send a message because I couldn't think of anything to say." John offered in trade. "When everyone sent messages home, I didn't send one because I didn't know what to say."
"To your parents?" Elizabeth sank to the landing, giving up on her legs when both of them refused to respond.
John sank next to her, letting his hands fall into his lap. "My dad's all I have left. We've just never been close. I sent him a letter when I got promoted. He likes to hear the good things."
"Did he write back?" Elizabeth twitched her fingers, noticing the red skin that was waiting to become a callus.
"He doesn't really do that." John shrugged and ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Maybe if I make general."
Elizabeth reached for his hand and took it. "I'll see what I can do."
He turned his head, meeting her eyes directly. "You keep doing that."
"What?" Her grip tightened instinctually.
"Making me feel better." John got to his feet, dragging her up with him. "I want you to see this. I'll carry you back down if I have too, but I think this is worth seeing."
Sighing theatrically, Elizabeth let him take her further up the stairs. "You might just have to."
"Still tired?" John's hand sent warmth through her arm. Warmth her body was too tired to produce on its own.
"I must have picked up something on Earth." Sweat broke on her forehead, dampening her hair as it faded. "A flu bug or something."
"Just tell your virus it's not welcome in the Pegasus Galaxy." John finally stopped in front of a doorway and fiddled with the crystals until it opened.
The upper observation deck was something she'd seen before, when it was above the water it had been beautiful. Now it was astonishing. Water was all around her, as if she'd stepped into the ocean itself. Without John's flashlight the only light was the thin blue that poured through the water. Far above the surface gleamed silver in the darkness.
"Worth it?" John whispered behind her head.
Startled out of the water, Elizabeth nodded dumbly. "Yes." Her voice did work after all, for a while she'd doubted she even remembered how to speak.
His thumbs found the top of her neck, running gently over the tense muscles he found there. A shiver ran all the way down her neck. She turned around faster than she thought she could still move. He caught her, pulling her closer. Elizabeth's head ended up on his chest, tucked beneath his chin. She sighed heavily, relaxing into his scent. So rarely did she ever let go, that she barely understood what she felt.
John moved his head back and forth, feeling her hair move in waves under his chin. "Tired?"
"Too tired." Elizabeth closed her eyes again, pretending she could hear the ocean. "I just can't get myself going."
"You'll bounce back." He ran his hand up her back, warming her shoulder. "You've always been springy."
"Springy." Elizabeth laughed, nearly pulling out of his arms as she doubled up. "I like that."
"You're positive. Sometimes I think you're crazy, but you're positive." John released her, letting her lean against the railing until the giggling stopped.
She should have been able to control herself, but something kept setting her off. "Springy. Like a tree?"
"Like a little tree." John corrected with a grin. "A baby one."
She only laughed harder, gasping for air between fits. Sinking to the floor, her head dropped to her hands. Her eyes started to tear up and John dropped to his knees next to her, his amusement turning to concern. "A baby tree. I'm sorry-" Elizabeth covered her mouth and wiped tears from her eyes. "I think that's-"
"The stupidest compliment you've ever gotten." Sulking slightly, John leaned back and stared up at the surface.
"Certainly the most original." She took a slow breath, trying to contain her laughter. Elizabeth was so tired that even John's pout was amusing. "Thank you." She quieted her giggles, thinning her lips into a fine line. "I appreciate it."
"I work hard to impress you." John teased as seriously as he could. "Stay awake at night, trying to find a way to beat you in a verbal sparring match."
With the railing she managed to regain her feet, smirking so strongly that her lips stung. "You're going to have to sleep less."
John stopped her at the head of the stairs, cupping the back of her head with his hand. "As you wish." His pout gave way to that cryptic smile, as if he had turned the tables on her without Elizabeth even seeing it coming.
"Now, the shortest straw gets dishes. We've gotten behind over the last couple days so one of you better pull it." Rodney set up the straws in his hand and held them out to "Longest straw gets to make dinner then?"
Ronan grabbed one and waited patiently with it out in front of him. Carson demurred, "Ladies first."
Teyla's was about the same size as Ronan's. She held it alongside his and smiled cheerfully. "It looks like dishes will not be my chore tonight."
"I'm going fishing." Ronon crossed his arms across his chest, already content that he'd won.
Elizabeth's straw was woefully shorter than Teyla's and going by the gleeful look on Rodney's face, it was the shortest. Carson and John picked next. Carson's was definitely the longest but he didn't seem overly bothered.
Rodney nearly skipped away with glee. "I'm sorry," he offered weakly. "It's just that I hate dishes with an abiding passion."
Elizabeth sighed slightly, more exhausted than frustrated with her task. She disappeared into the back room without complaint. Teyla and Ronon wandered off to see if there were any fish in the ocean that could be coaxed up with a long line.
John held up his straw next to Carson's and shrugged. "Feel like trading? I'm in a camp stove mood."
Carson took with a wink. "I'll bet that's what you're really after."
"I just happen to like cooking." John made a face when Carson smacked his shoulder. "All right, all right!"
"She feeling any better?" Carson wondered politely. "She always tells me she's fine, but she's looking a little peaked." He leaned in closer to John conspiratorially. "Her red blood cell count's going to be a bit slow coming back up after an injury like that, but Elizabeth's just not getting better as quickly as I'd like to see."
"I'll be-" John stopped, furrowing his brow a little.
"Sensitive," Carson finished for him and patted him on the back. "That's a good lad."
John waved absently and grabbed the cook stove. He could just as easily make dinner in the back room, where he could be sensitive at the same time.
Elizabeth stood over the sink with the lantern balanced on the counter next to her. The sink was full of water, but her hands were resting on the edge. She wasn't moving. He snuck up on her and put a hand on her back. "How's it going?"
She whirled around, startled out of her thoughts. Elizabeth's hands dripped dishwater on his chest. "You-"
"I'm a sneak." He dropped his hands to her shoulders and looked over the sink of dishes. "You're not getting very far."
"I know." Elizabeth shook her head and let his hands steady her shoulders. "I guess I'm just tired."
"We've been working eighteen hour days trying to fix the city." John rubbed his hands down her arms, taking half a step closer. "We're all tired."
"You're not spacing out over the sink." She let him wrap his arms around her waist. "What are we doing?"
"Standing in the kitchen." John's chin found its way to her shoulder. "Not doing any dishes."
"I meant us." The smell of the dish soap turned her stomach. "What are you and I?"
"Unlucky." John teased as he contemplated her ear. He could nibble it all the way across to her neck.
Elizabeth dried her hands on her pants and tried to ignore the smell of the soap. "You traded for this."
"Right." John's fingers intertwined around her waist, settling there permanently. The pressure almost helped her stomach. "You're unlucky and I'm a sucker."
"Better." Closing her eyes for a moment felt lovely, they'd been open so long the itch behind them had turned into a full blown headache.
Settling deeper into her shoulder, John turned his thoughts to food. "What do you want for dinner?"
Shaking herself out of being comfortable, Elizabeth returned to the dishes with gusto. "I don't think I'll eat."
He let her work and started looking through what he had to work with. "Stomach messed up again?" John didn't need to ask. He'd watched her hide half of her uneaten power bar that morning, and sat next to her when she picked at lunch. Whatever was bothering her was still a problem.
"It comes and goes." Elizabeth offered pathetically as she turned away from what seemed like an overpowering smell of soap and the remnants of Tava bean stew. She covered her face suddenly, muffling her as she breathed through her mouth.
John stopped fiddling with the flame on the cook stove. "Something the matter?"
Elizabeth crossed the kitchen and stopped by the empty cabinets. "I just can't handle the smell."
Curiously checking the sink, John had to admit that he didn't smell anything. "What smell?"
"Lemon and leftover MREs." Crossing her arms across her chest defensively, Elizabeth tried to describe it better. "Something rotting?"
"It's just soap." John dug around for a while, soaking his hands up to the wrists. He collected a pile of bubbles and blew them towards the empty half of the kitchen. "Seems all right to me."
"I'm going crazy." Elizabeth sighed as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter. Her hand returned to her nose, but her eyes carried her apology. "I really am. I can't do dishes because the smell of them makes me nauseated? What is that?"
"I'm sure it's nothing. I've probably just ruined my sense of smell by being in the military." John dug around in the bubbles until he found a sponge. "I'll wash, you can finish putting packets of spaghetti into my boiling water."
"Have I mentioned I miss our cooks?" Her feet thumped lightly on the floor. She barely limped at all now, and Carson was nearly ready to remove her stitches. "Especially the younger one, who's English wasn't that-"
"Englishy." John stacked soapy dishes in the sink of his right, waiting until he had enough to rinse. "Made a good goulash."
Six packets of powdered sauce and dry noodles dropped neatly in the boiling water as she stirred. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to admit there's such a thing as a good goulash."
"Maybe next week when we've eaten most of the good MREs." John ran his rinse water and turned to watch her stirring. "Better?"
"Yes." Elizabeth's smile was genuine. "I told you. It comes and goes. Sometimes I think I'm going to throw up, but sometimes I feel completely normal."
"Weird." John tightened his eyebrows, wondering if he'd failed entirely at being sensitive. "Ever had it before?"
"No." Elizabeth set her spoon down for a moment and thought harder. "I got food poisoning once in the edge of the Congo, but that was much more intense."
"Instead of wanting to throw up, or even getting to think you wanted to throw up, you just threw up." John turned back to his dishes. "A lot. Saw it every once in awhile, especially when I got stationed somewhere more exotic."
Taking his tactic and sneaking up behind him, Elizabeth made him jump when she touched his shoulders. "I remember thinking afterwards that it was the worst I'd ever felt." She grinned and winked. "Now we're even." Leaving the memory of her smile to tease him, she returned to check on dinner. "Of course I was wrong."
John finished a precarious stack of clean metal dishes with pride. "Oh?"
"Letting Carson dig metal out of my leg trumped it." Elizabeth glanced down at the ruin of her pant leg.
"You're not limping much anymore." John pointed out as he turned proudly from the empty sink.
"It doesn't hurt like it did." Giving John a look as he stuck a spoon into pot of spaghetti to taste it, Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "Don't get me wrong, Carson did a good job. Doesn't even look like it's going to scar."
John examined the line of stitches on her leg as he licked the spoon clean. "It won't, not too badly anyway. Looks good enough to start hand to hand tomorrow."
"More teachings from the Sheppard school of commando tactics?" Elizabeth shut off the stove and waited for him.
"I'm thinking of calling it the Sheppard School of kicking Replicator ass." John snuck his hand around and into hers. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Her sleeping bag rustled at his side. They'd started out nearly a meter apart when he'd first set out the sleeping bags. Night by night they'd gotten closer and closer together. Now when Elizabeth moved in the dark, he felt it. He felt her stirring stop when she fell asleep. Today he'd awakened with her head on his chest. John's hand slipped into her hair. McKay had started giving both of them odd looks whenever they were together.
Carson kept coming up with reasons for them to be together. He always chose Rodney as his sparring partner. They'd had two weeks of this. Sleeping in a group on the floor of the cafeteria, crawling across the floor from breakfast until just before dinner. Sheppard's school of Replicator ass-kicking had advanced to hand to hand and strike team tactics, but they were all tired.
Rodney's insistence on an early start became less enthusiastic every morning. Carson was getting grumpy. A lucky blow of his during a sparring match had left a deep black bruise on Rodney's cheek. Teyla had gotten tired and quiet. She was still the first one up every morning, but she'd started brewing her tea stronger each time. Elizabeth seemed to function on some kind of autopilot. She was paler every morning and the skin of her face had gotten tight over her cheekbones.
John brought his other hand up to her shoulder, holding her closer. He still had a few minutes before Teyla came to shake him awake. It was these moments he savored, the quiet when all he had to think about was the weight of her on his chest. He wasn't tired when she touched him. He could always find a way to smile when she looked at him. It was weird. With Elizabeth curled up alongside of him, the floor didn't feel hard.
Teyla's footsteps moved softly through their camp. He'd squandered his time before daybreak. John shook Elizabeth gently, trying to rouse her as sensitively as he could. She moaned and clung tighter to him. "Come on Elizabeth, time to drink tea and pretend its coffee."
Shaking herself awake, Elizabeth nodded and retreated back to her own sleeping bag. "In a second."
Rodney was already taking his breakfast and retreating to the lab. He waved to John curtly with a hand full of a power bar. "Morning."
Carson yawned his way through his greeting. His beard just made him look scruffier in the weak light of their lantern. "See you for lunch." Though they all returned at the end of the day, everyone was so strained that avoidance had become part of their standard behavior.
Ronan departed as well, raising his eyebrows at John in the way that made him feel like he'd been caught in the cookie jar. "Later."
"I will see you at lunch?" Teyla wondered gently as she poured John the darkest cup of tea he'd ever had.
"We'll see you." John promised as he gulped down his tea and poured himself another cup. Teyla's hunting tea was usually weak, pleasantly earthly and a poor substitute for coffee. When over-brewed it was bitter, caustic and a poor substitute for bad coffee. He dipped one of the precious chocolate peanut butter power bars into the brackish tea and tried to decide if it helped the taste of his tea, or ruined his power bar.
Elizabeth kept her eyes shut, hoping if she just didn't move, her stomach would calm itself down. Instead of quieting, it leapt into her throat. Her feet brought her to the kitchen. Her chest clamped down tight and she lost control. Her stomach finally followed through on its threat of revolt.
Stomach fluid spilled from her mouth, burning the back of her throat. Her eyes teared up as she gasped for air. Her stomach convulsed again, tightening all the muscles in her back. Clinging to the stone rim of the sink, her palms were instantly slick with sweat. Her tongue felt swollen and fuzzy in her mouth. Acrid and slickly sweet, the smell cut through the air in the kitchen. Fighting to catch her breath, Elizabeth hit clumsily at the faucet until the water came on. Watching it wash away the mess worked for a moment, but then her stomach rebelled again.
She had little to throw up the second time. It didn't stop her from losing the ability to breath for a few seconds. Her hair tumbled out from behind her ears, falling across her face. She cupped her hands to drink, wetting her hair as she rinsed out her mouth. Spitting the water out and drinking again, Elizabeth tried to get the horrible taste out of her mouth.
"Here." John tucked a cup into her hands. "Easier." His hands stayed with her, steadying her grip as she filled the cup. He guided the half-full cup to her mouth and let her drink it. "Spit it out again," he suggested as he filled the cup a second time. Letting her swallow a few sips, he dried his hands on his shirt and put a one hand on her forehead and the other on the back of her neck.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth wondered as she left the cup in the sink.
"No fever." John offered simply as he led her over to the counter. Lifting her up and sliding her back, he smiled comfortingly. "Thought you were getting better."
Elizabeth tried to come up with something to say. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and leaned back against the wall. "I was."
"I know you want to be." John pulled himself up on the counter next to her. "I know the last thing you want to do right now is be weak. Be sick, let us down." Folding her hands tightly in her lap, she tried to warm them by forcing them between her thighs. Without saying anything he reached across and took her hands. Even damp, his were warmer and heat bled into her chill fingers.
"I'm not sick." She insisted feebly. Even with her stomach empty, nausea still threatened her control. Elizabeth took her hands back, crossing her arms across her chest instead.
"Okay." John remained maddeningly calm. He looked over at the sink and back to her. "Then why are you throwing up?"
"Oh I don't know." Elizabeth offered with more venom than she intended. "For two weeks I've had little sleep and nothing to eat, but power bars. And it seems so damn easy for the rest of you." Hopping off the counter, she started to pace angrily. "Teyla and Ronan are used to living in the woods and eating whatever they find. God, Rodney even likes MREs."
"We're all stressed." John smoothed over gently. He studying his fingernails and waited for her to tire herself out. "Carson's getting better at fighting because it's a good outlet for his aggression. Teyla makes her tea stronger every morning. Ronan spends his free time fishing in an ocean that can't possibly have anything we could catch. Rodney's just busy. If he ever gets unbusy he'll be miserable."
Her rage started to fade, reminding her that more than anything, she was tired. John swung his feet back and forth lazily. "We're almost done with the gate. We'll all feel better when we're not trapped here anymore. You gotta admit you miss the sky."
Elizabeth could not be comforted. Exhaustion ruled her mind and ran through her body in waves. "How do you keep yourself going? How can you sit there and act like everything's going to be all right." She narrowed her eyebrows and advanced on him. "We were lucky no one was seriously hurt when we took the city. How many surgeries can Carson perform without anesthetic?" Kneeling down, she angrily ripped the gauze from her leg, exposing the line of bright green stitches in her pink skin. "How much damage can the six of us really do against a whole city of Replicators that understand Ancient technology enough to actually build ZPMs?"
"Aren't we just deluding ourselves?" Elizabeth balled up the gauze in her hands and threw it onto the floor. "Convincing ourselves that somehow any feeble response we can come up with will make a difference?"
John finally slid off the counter. When his feet hit the floor, he came up swinging. "Where the hell is this coming from?"
"What?" Shocked away from her fears, she recoiled slightly.
"What happened to you never saying die? Never giving up? Always being the one-" John tried to speak, but she cut him off.
"Maybe I can't-" Elizabeth snapped over him and he caught her hand, pushing her back towards the sink. "You can't expect me to have a bottomless reserve-"
John held her hand in an iron grip. "Who never, ever let me give up." He flattened her between him and the sink, feeling her breasts give in and he pressed against her chest. His free hand cupped her chin, searching for the strength he knew had to be in there.
"What do you want from me?" Her voice cracked, running out of anger and faltering. John's green eyes froze her heart in her throat.
"You asked-" His fingers loosened, no longer threatening the circulation in her arm. "You asked me what kept me going."
Elizabeth shivered under his gaze, feeling her anger melt into shame. Her stomach knotted again. "John, don't."
"You." His hand dropped from her arm, but when she tried to turn her gaze, both hands caught her chin. "I know you never give up. You always manage to smile. No matter what happens, being with you, Elizabeth," he told her as his voice softened to a whisper as exhaustion settled into his shoulders. "Is enough for me." John held her a moment longer. Keeping close enough that she could see the pulse of life in his neck and feel his breath as he sighed in defeat.
"Maybe we should work separately today." John's hands dropped away like stones and he turned his back. Without looking over his shoulder, he paused, "I hope you're feeling better."
Elizabeth sank to the floor, completely deflated by her failure. Her stomach knotted with guilt, twisting together with the remnants of nausea. She'd done it now, pushed him past his breaking point and left him as desolated as she was. The floor was cold and her back tightened against the metal behind her. Her chest was so tight it seemed like breathing would be impossible. Stinging behind her eyes burst through her tear ducts. She wasn't going to cry. Crying would waste energy and leave her worse than she was. Her hands were dry and rough as she wiped the tears away. Getting to her feet, she forced her emotion down into her stomach.
There was nothing left to do but work on the city. Making sure they were physically safe would have to come before her heart. If she lived until tomorrow, she might know what to say. Picking up the toolkit brought old complaints from the muscles of her back. Everything hurt but Elizabeth let herself go numb. Her feet mattered until she reached the hole in the floor of the corridor. After that all she needed were her hands. Aching as they repaired a crystal, her fingers moved on to the next.
When her eyes grew tired she worked blind. Feeling the chill of the crystal fade when power returned. Working in her self-induced coma, gave her too much time to think. John wandered into the back of her mind and refused to leave her alone. His eyes went dark and sad, fading like the sea at twilight. His smile failed to stir his lips. She'd done that to him. She'd gutted him.
Debating for only a moment, Elizabeth left her toolkit where it was. Crossing her arms over her chest, she felt her stomach ease as soon as she started to walk. The crystals would have to wait; she had other repairs to make first.
"Dammit." Dropping the tiny electric tool, John stuffed his fingers in his mouth. Tasting blood and burned flesh, he grimaced and sat up from his work. "Stupid..." He pulled them out of his mouth and studied the damage. His pointer finger would be fine, but his middle finger had a nasty burn that was already starting to blister. He should have been paying more attention.
He should definitely not be thinking of the way Elizabeth's breasts seemed to have become fuller. Maybe it was the change from red to black, some kind of optical illusion. He couldn't really ask anyone. His fingers were forgotten as his mind wandered down her body. John sighed and tried to force himself back to work. Hurting his hand was a lousy reason to stop, he reminded himself. Checking his finger again to make sure the bleeding had stopped, he stuffed his arms back into the floor.
He hummed to himself as he went, missing the sound of footsteps as she approached. John was repeating the theme to "Monday Night Football" for the fourth time when she touched his shoulder. Jumping out of his hole in the floor, he nearly wrenched his shoulder as he got to his knees.
"I'm sorry." Elizabeth pulled back, losing her resolve as soon as he looked at her. "I didn't mean-"
"It's okay." Her hand was off of her shoulder, but he desperately wanted it back. John got to his feet slowly, waiting for her to make the first move.
Elizabeth sighed heavily, feeling the air pour out of her chest in a flood. "I wanted to apologize. What I said earlier was-"
He quickly waved her quiet. "I said it was okay. You've been sick. You're tired-"
"It's no excuse." Correcting him firmly, Elizabeth took a tiny step towards him.
John shook out his injured fingers, trying to knock the pain out of them. "I don't need you to apologize." One corner of his mouth rose in the ghost of a smile. "I understand."
She caught his wrist, lifting his injured fingers to examine them. "Are you hurt?"
"Just clumsy." John tried to ignore the tingling sensation her fingers sent up his arm. "Messed up and burned myself."
"It's tougher doing this alone." Elizabeth dropped to the floor, finishing his circuit neatly.
"Yeah." John sat down next to her, watching her hair fall elegantly across her cheek as she worked. "It sucks. I-"
Her head shot up, stopping him mid-thought. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've been wonderful. Really wonderful."
"I didn't-" John's protesting came to a halt when she caught his arm.
"You've been patient, caring, and more than understanding. You've taken care of all of us since we arrived." Elizabeth watched as he took her hand. He cradled it, slowly turning her hand until it slipped easily into his own.
"That's my job." Wondering how her fingers could be so delicate, John ran his thumb across the back of her hand.
Spilling light from her eyes, her smile erupted like a sunrise. "You're above and beyond the call of duty."
"Just bucking for another promotion." John teased lightly, feeling his concern disappear into her smile. "General John Sheppard just has a lovely ring to it, don't you think?"
Helping him slide the stone back in place, Elizabeth just sat and stared at him. His lips twitched, as if he had gotten the joke she'd missed. Finally, she had to look away before he overwhelmed her.
John waited, studying the line of her sleeve and remembering the perfect expanse of skin beneath her sleeve. Out of all the confusion of that morning, his glimpse of her naked back had stayed in his memory. "What?"
"I didn't say anything." Elizabeth offered weakly as she felt the stone seep cold through her legs.
John's finger traced the nearly invisible line of the floor tile. "I thought..." he trailed off.
Stubble scratched against her hand when she reached for his face. "John..." She cut off as her voice failed her again. "...I do need to say something."
He stopped drawing circles on the floor. His heart stopped in his chest. His own voice echoed in from kilometers away. "Okay." Looking up was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Her eyes bored into him, scaring his mind clean of thoughts of her skin as if she'd been reading his mind.
Elizabeth blinked once, struggling against the dryness in her mouth. "I count on you." Pathetically trying to keep her composure, she bit her lip before she admitted, "You make sure everyone comes home. You're the great protector. The one who holds us all together." The hand on his face moved across his cheek. Her eyes were too bright. "I'm always helpless, standing up there in command."
"You're never helpless." John felt her fingers leave a cool trail across his upper lip. Shivering slightly, he turned his head back into her hand.
"I send you." Elizabeth insisted as her hand ran down his neck. Her fingers stopped on the edge of his shirt collar. "You're my champion." John stopped her hand from dropping any farther, catching it like a wandering leaf. "The receiver who always catches that impossible pass."
"See I'm actually a terrible receiver." John felt the blood burning his face. "My hands are really kind of pathetic."
Elizabeth crushed his protests with a kiss. Her tongue invaded his mouth, reminding him that there were some things he couldn't joke his way out of. Her hair tickled his cheek and the hand he held found its way to the back of his neck. It slid down his back, finding the hem and sneaking inside his shirt.
John jumped back, crashing into the wall in his surprise. "We really shouldn't," he pointed out as his heart pounded like a helicopter rotor in his chest.
Getting carefully to her feet, Elizabeth lowered her hand to him. "Let go." Her voice was softer than he was used to. Her eyes were deeper.
He reached up, pushing himself up to meet her. John's knees quivered, reminding him of his first time in a fighter jet. She looked around, searching the hallway for a familiar doorway. Finding her target, Elizabeth pulled him towards the crystals controlling it. Their hands collided as they realigned the center crystal, sending a jolt up her arm.
The door hissed softly, losing its seal. Elizabeth pushed him back against it, surprising him with her ferocity. John held back, trying to ignore her hands in the belt loops of his pants. "Are you sure?" He asked finally, shivering again when she kissed the edge of his jaw.
"I want you." Elizabeth pulled back, studying the conflict in his face. "I can hear a thousand reasons why I shouldn't shouting in my head."
"You're not thinking clearly." John argued, feebly keeping her half an arm's length away. "You..." Elizabeth's smile made it impossible to remember what he was going to say. "...are beautiful." John dropped his hands to his sides, losing his will to fight. He turned them around, opening the door and pushing her into the empty conference room as he left his sense behind him.
He returned her kiss, experimenting with the curves of her lips. Elizabeth giggled slightly as she pulled away. Teasing as she backed up to the table. His hands were on her hips when she slid back onto the table. Fingers found the ribs beneath her skin, running down her spine. She jumped, shivering as he found a sensitive nerve.
John backed away, feeling his heartbeat rush in his chest. "Is this right?"
Elizabeth shook her head, reaching down to unlace her boot. One of them thudded down onto the floor. "Are you always so talkative with women?"
"No," John replied numbly as he watched her remove her second boot and drop it to the floor. "Women don't make me nervous." He should take off his shoes. He knelt, fumbling with the laces. "You make me nervous."
"Me?" She wondered gently, feeling the cold air of the room through her socks. Her voice cut through his unease, lilting through his head. "Come here." Her chin bobbed slightly as she smiled involuntarily.
John stopped in his tracks, feeling more naked under her gaze than he'd been back on Ceol. He left his boots by the door. His feet padded silently across the stone-like floor. "Okay."
"Let's try this from the beginning." Elizabeth suggested as she took a deep breath. Her skin tingled, as if the room was filled with a static charge. One hand caught his arm, gently easing him closer. His lips were cool against her own. Her tongue flicked against his, searching for his permission. John moved his head, tilting for a better angle.
His nose pressed against her cheek as he whispered, "Okay." His hands slipped between her and the table, running around the curve of her hips before they crept upwards.
Delicate fingers dug into his back, dancing up towards his neck. The shivering came again, leaving only curiosity behind. Wrapping his arms around her back made it easier to kiss her. Elizabeth slid forward on the table, running one leg up his thigh.
One of her teeth nicked his lip and her apology came out in a giggle. "Sorry."
He ran his finger over his lip and shrugged. "Didn't think you were the type. I'll try to keep up." He winked and dove into her neck, nibbling up to her ear.
She gasped and pulled him closer. His hands found her skin just beneath her black shirt. The fabric gave, letting him run them up her back. Elizabeth turned her attention to his shirt, and stopped kissing him long enough to yank it over his head. Surprise made him pause, realizing how vulnerable he was. The only sound was their breathing and the occasional whisper of clothing.
John took his time with her shirt, easing it up her stomach as he discovered the skin beneath. As he pulled it up over her bra, the blush crept over her cheeks. "Beautiful," he pronounced with a shy smile. Her breasts swelled within the simple black cotton of her bra. The curved wires sat firmly on her chest. He was so distracted by them that she had to finish taking off her shirt on her own. Elizabeth dropped her arms to her sides waiting for him to look up.
John's tongue licked across his lower lip. "Wow." His hands hovered over his chest.
Her laughter bounced in her chest. "Good wow?" Elizabeth teased as her blush grew on her face.
"The best wow," John admitted as he finally brought his attention back to her face.
"Better than you imagined?" Her arms snuck around his neck, pulling him closer.
Nodding seriously, he ran his fingers up her arms to her shoulders. "Yeah."
Elizabeth kissed a line across his collarbone, giggling as he tried to lift her head to kiss her. "You imagined?"
He crushed her mouth, kissing the giggles out of her. "Well yeah." His eyebrows insisted he was serious. "How could I not?"
Her head pulled back, tossing her hair down her neck. "Should I take it as a compliment?"" Elizabeth's fingers traced the line down his chest towards his stomach and he groaned under his breath.
"Now who's talking?" John undid the top button of her pants and worked his way down the zipper. He deftly slid her pants down to the table, waiting for her to squirm the rest of the way out of them. The hair on his chest tickled her stomach. The table was decidedly cooler when all she had left were her underwear. John tossed her pants and their shirts up on the table behind her. His pants followed as soon as she freed them from his ankles.
He laid her back, taking the time to examine the long lines of her torso. John slipped easily between her legs, letting her knees box him in. He reached underneath her for the claps of her bra and paused. Fully in awe of the women beneath him, he spent a long, glorious moment sweeping the straps of her bra over her shoulders.
He was warm and solid over her, making up for the heat she lost to the chill of the table. Elizabeth's bra slid off the edge of the table and vanished. John's boxer shorts were soft against her inner thighs. Slowly running his fingers around the lower curve of her breasts, he made his way painstakingly to her nipples. Feeling them harden in response to his touch, Elizabeth pulled him tighter, grinding her body against his.
Cool fingers slipped inside the elastic of his boxers and sent them away. His right hand cupped her butt, pulling her panties down to her thighs. A finger danced along the burning skin of her legs before banishing her panties to the forgotten floor. The muscles of his arms hardened as he moved above her. Desperation rushed through them and demanded more oxygen. Sweat broke on his hairline. The table was finally warm under her back. Tilting back her legs let him into her body.
John's head swam, only her mouth against his drew him back to her and the table beneath his hands. He fought his own desires, reminding himself that patience was the better part. Aching for more speed, his body screamed back as he moved slowly within her. Elizabeth's eyes were locked on his, her fingers digging into the skin of his back stung when her nails turned on him. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, teasing him with the glory of her. His butt was firm and smooth beneath her calf when she moved her leg up over his back.
Her chest shuddered in his arms and Elizabeth's eyes grew wet with tears. The teeth biting her lip turned it as white as her smile. He gave her his hand, bending hers back to the table. He nearly crushed her when his body spasmed in release. Gasping as his senses slowly brought him back to his body; John kept her in his arms. Elizabeth wiped tears from her eyes with trembling fingers. Kissing his cheek gently, still unable to speak, she smiled. Closing her eyes so the lashes picked up the last of the dampness, she sighed languidly.
John rolled back to the table, letting it seep the extra heat of his body. Her hand was still in the hair on the back of his neck when she rolled to lie on his chest. Any hesitation left within him died in her eyes. Quiet contentment radiated from her face, suffusing him with new warmth. Lifting his head enough to kiss her again John let himself relax.
"Wow."
Many thanks again to Shannon. Who deserves cookies for putting up with 17 pages chapters..