Fic update: Look a little further [3/3]
May. 21st, 2006 11:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
prowler_pilotI know it took ages, but my beta has gone MIA and the finished fanfic actually sat on my HD for a good month before I decided to post it anyway.
Title: Look a little further
Rating: PG13
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Classification: I guess it can be fluff, with a little humor thrown in for good measure.
Spoilers: Set in S2, but no major spoilers
Summary: Birthday traditions should never be broken.
Disclaimers: I don’t own these characters, yadda yadda…
A/N: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
xfairy1013 for the beta. You rock, hon. And break a leg on tomorrow's exam!!!
Another A/N is at the end of the story.
Part 1
Part 2
“There is some rough information regarding the position of the planet. We can ask Rodney’s team to run a search based on these parameters, they might come up with something.” Elizabeth wrote swiftly on her PDA, the electronic pen gliding smoothly over the small screen. Her eyes danced between the small device and the large book precariously propped against the front of her thighs as she struggled to interpret the text without the help of their translation program.
“And I guess you’ll want me and my team to visit the planet if we do find it.” John’s voice came, somewhat groggy, from very near her ear. She settled more comfortably between his legs, her back resting fully against his chest as he pressed his lips warmly against her temple.
It was their designated reading position, intimate enough to enjoy extensive physical contact while it allowed them both a clear view on the book. It was also the most practical way to fit two adult bodies in the tiny Atlantean bed, that was obviously not intended for sharing.
Elizabeth fitted nicely in the frame of his legs, and she was tall enough to allow him easy access to her hair, face and neck. With which he tended to distract himself all too often when he wasn’t in the right mood for literature. She sometimes fussed a little then, craning her neck to escape his attentions and recalling his focus on the book. Other times the book lay abandoned on the floor beside the bed, still open at the page they’d been reading.
“If it has a Stargate or it’s not too far by Puddle Jumper I think it could be worth a shot. There might be something of strategic importance left among the ruins. Plans on how to defeat the Wraith, projects or prototypes of weapons…a ZPM…If, on the other hand, another civilization has developed on the planet we’ll try to make contact and hopefully, establish a mutually productive alliance.” She turned a thin page, and to do so she placed the PDA momentarily on her abdomen, just under the strong arm slung casually across her waist. She felt him shift a little against her back, muscles flexing and pressing into her shoulder blades, as his other hand reached for the device.
“Aren’t you running a little too fast?” He threw an idle look at her notes and replaced the PDA where he found it. “These books were supposed to be a diversion, you know. Foreign narrative. Cultural exercise.” He teased her lightly.
Not that he’d ever really thought it would work.
Elizabeth’s mind was constantly active in taking care of the city and its residents, and she was always ready to lend a helping hand to those who needed one. Always focused on the task at hand – sometimes more than one at once, he mused -, the rare times she wasn’t presented with an external challenge she created one herself.
The only real relief came with sleep, and even that didn’t come in large quantities in the city of the Ancients. And when earpieces weren’t buzzing and alarms weren’t howling, there were still too many nightmares that came to haunt them at night.
He had seen their leader either physically and psychologically beaten on different occasions by now, and she had always been able to pick herself up afterwards.
Every time a little more disillusioned, every time with a few more cracks in her shiny armor and a few more lines on her face.
John wondered how much more she could take before she fell apart completely, and hoped he would never have to find out. He took her weight when she leaned, and she did the same when he needed her to, keeping the delicate balance that maintained them both sane and efficient in their jobs.
He tried to keep the thought of one of them missing in the equation out of his mind, at least as much as their always precarious situation allowed, and treasured every moment he spent with her and his team.
“Maybe I am. But it’s still nice to dream sometimes, isn’t it?” She sighed. She twisted her torso to look up at him, as if she were searching in his eyes a confirmation to her own words.
John smiled his assent and buried his face in the crook of her soft neck as she resumed her tirade. She smelled warm and clean, of water and the Athosian herbal soap she and many other women on Atlantis had come to prefer to the military issued bars. The t-shirt she had thrown on after the shower had the vague scent of fabric softener he’d come to associate to Atlantis and her.
With his woman in his arms and no impending doom on the city he felt relaxed enough to be ready to spoon up and sleep, and Elizabeth still sounded as eager as she had when she’d given her speech at the SGC, before they all stepped through the Stargate.
John suspected it had a lot to do with the amount of sugar currently running through her veins.
“It’s fascinating. Apparently this civilization had reached a technological level similar to that of mid-nineteenth England before the Wraith attacked the planet.”
“Very interesting.” He mumbled idly, his lips vibrating against the skin of her neck.
“John, people on Earth were still drawing bulls on cave walls ten thousand years ago. If you think about it…”
“It’s overwhelming, I know.”
Her mouth snapped shut as she tilted her head and studied his face, her own expression slightly bewildered. It was easy sometimes to forget the contemplative nature that lay beneath the stereotypical aviator attitude. She reached up and placed a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth, his two-day stubble scraping a little the softer skin of her cheek.
“What was that for?”
She looked away, and he followed her movement to return her gesture with a kiss of his own. “I just…thank you for today. And for every day you stand at my side.”
John smiled the warm smile that was reserved for their private moments only. Sometimes it was hard to believe all this –Atlantis, the Ancients, the Wraith, Elizabeth – was real; that he’d come so far.
He often thought he was going to wake up one morning and find himself still at McMurdo, his head full of doubts on whether leaving the air force to become a civilian pilot would be the wisest choice for his destroyed career. John shook the thoughts away once again.
“It’s going to cost you a little more than a peck on the cheek, you know.” He ran the side of his foot up her long calf, lifting up the leg of her sweatpants in the process. He noticed with pleasure that she had shaven during shower and he let his foot linger a little more than necessary, rubbing up and down against the smooth skin.
“Wasn’t earlier enough for you?” The tone she voiced it in was almost enough to shake all thoughts of cuddles and sleep out of his head. She stretched, using him for support, her back arching just a little bit and her neck fully exposed a mere inch from his lips. John’s nerves tingled pleasantly where she was pressed tightly against him, and he wished he had a third hand to run down her spine, feeling each small indentation beneath the thin silk of her skin.
“Well…” He pulled a mock-pensive face as a stray hand crept down toward the waistband of her pants.
She laughed, blocking his hand. “Don’t push your luck, Sheppard.” She squeezed that same hand then, her laughter dying and her voice turning soft. “You know, I really meant it when I said thank you.”
She fingered the pendant resting at the base of her throat. Her eyes had looked about to pop out of their sockets when she had found the slender velvet box under the pillow, drifting from him to the box and back again as she uncovered the necklace.
A small gold star dangled just below a slightly bigger white gold one; elegant, yet simple. And if the shimmer in her eyes as he had fastened it around her neck had meant something, he was pretty sure she had liked the unexpected gift.
“You know, you shouldn’t have. The books were more than enough.” She added.
John’s lips trailed a lazy path from her cheek down to the sharp angle of her jaw.
“I wanted to.” And he did, since he’d seen the necklace stare back at him from a shop window in Colorado Springs the last time they had visited Earth.
It had reminded him of her because, after all they’d been through, she could still look at the stars in awe and appreciate the wonders of nature without the clinical –or cynical- eye that had spread like a disease among the expedition members.
His thoughts might have not been of a romantic nature back then, but one way or another, she had already worked her way under his skin.
No rings or bracelets for practical Dr.Weir. The plastic and rubber SGC watch was the only item she allowed near her restless hands, tied tight enough around her slim wrist so it wouldn’t get in the way while she typed.
“It’s too much.” She was still watching the metal shine at her every breath under the artificial light of the room, streaks of brightness flashing against the opposite wall as she moved. Elizabeth had a vague memory of doing the same with her watch in 8th grade, during a particularly boring lesson.
“You deserve it. And I thought your neck looked naked like that.” He also felt the need to mark her as his after she had shed the reminder of her relationship with Dr. Wallace, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her, or to anyone else.
“I thought you liked me naked.” Her face was currently hidden from him by a curtain of brunette curls, but he knew her well enough to know her right eyebrow would be arched suggestively.
“Still do. Although, you’ll agree with me that jewels add a sexy touch.” He kissed her shoulder where the thin chain rested against her skin. “And then it will act as a breastplate.”
“A what?” She scowled.
“It was in one of those poems we read last month. The glimmer of the breastplate distracts the fools people from what’s beneath, or something like that.” With his other hand already resting on her ribs, it took him a minimum effort to rub the underside of a breast through the thin fabric of her shirt.
“It’s John Donne, and you make him sound so trivial.” Elizabeth glared good-naturedly up at him.
He shrugged. “Hey, I’m a practical man.”
“Your interpretation of the verses is wrong.” She continued, crumbling his defense.
“Let’s call it a free adaptation then.” He insisted, a lopsided grin shaping on his face.
Elizabeth sighed inwardly. She decided to let him win the mock argument and relaxed against him as he dropped small kisses down the side of her neck and along her collarbone.
It was one of those times when she couldn’t tell whether he was being genuinely naïve and clueless or was just putting up an act to hide something that he didn’t want revealed. He was so used to the part that even her diplomatic skills didn’t help her to discern between the man and the façade. At this point, she wasn’t even sure John himself could anymore.
“People will wonder where this comes from.” She whispered softly.
“You can say it comes from a relative, or a close friend. Pretty much everyone gets things from Earth.” He didn’t, just like Elizabeth herself, and Rodney, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now.
Feeling his arm on her stomach become heavier and his kisses reduced to a mere pressure of his lips on her skin, she reluctantly closed the book and set it gently on the bedside table, her PDA on top.
John automatically released his hold of her, letting her sit up and stretch her back once again. She rolled onto her fours and straddled him briefly – drawing his undivided attention to her for a moment - before she collapsed at his right side, the mattress bouncing slightly under her weight.
“Goodnight.” She was just reaching out to kiss him when her earpiece crackled to life.
“And Happy Birthday, Dr.Weir.” John grimaced warily as she fixed the device to her ear and tapped it active.
“Yes?” She was silent for a moment before she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed the rumpled uniform from where it had been unceremoniously discarded on the floor in their previous haste to get to the bed.
“Any life threatening injuries?” At this, John’s head sprung from the pillow, the soldier in him overriding his tiredness. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and worry, and he urged Elizabeth to share the information with a mouthed ‘what.’
A raised hand in his direction calmed him momentarily as she slipped into her fatigue pants.
“Good to hear. Shall I alert Sheppard?” she nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute. Weir out.” Elizabeth tapped the earpiece again, effectively terminating the conversation, and turned to her waiting companion.
“One of the off-world teams due back tomorrow morning has had an accident and has just gated back. Only minor injuries, Carson is already treating them. Lorne also insisted that I let you sleep.”
Both eyebrows quirked upwards this time, as well as a corner of her mouth.
“I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulled her down for a gentle kiss, to which she responded almost desperately.
“Don’t wait up for me, you’ll probably see me at tomorrow’s briefing anyway.” She sighed and let him rub her back soothingly as she rather unwillingly tied up her boots.
“Be sure to get some sleep before then, okay? Come back here if you can. You know I’ll miss you.” That, at least, made her smile, and earned him an extra kiss before she narrowed her eyes, squared her shoulders and walked out in long strides into the core of Atlantis.
***Finito***
A/N 2: John’s haphazard quote comes from John Donne’s Elegy “To his mistress going to bed.”
The original verses read:
“Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopp'd there.”
Title: Look a little further
Rating: PG13
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Classification: I guess it can be fluff, with a little humor thrown in for good measure.
Spoilers: Set in S2, but no major spoilers
Summary: Birthday traditions should never be broken.
Disclaimers: I don’t own these characters, yadda yadda…
A/N: Thanks to
xfairy1013 for the beta. You rock, hon. And break a leg on tomorrow's exam!!!Another A/N is at the end of the story.
Part 1
Part 2
“There is some rough information regarding the position of the planet. We can ask Rodney’s team to run a search based on these parameters, they might come up with something.” Elizabeth wrote swiftly on her PDA, the electronic pen gliding smoothly over the small screen. Her eyes danced between the small device and the large book precariously propped against the front of her thighs as she struggled to interpret the text without the help of their translation program.
“And I guess you’ll want me and my team to visit the planet if we do find it.” John’s voice came, somewhat groggy, from very near her ear. She settled more comfortably between his legs, her back resting fully against his chest as he pressed his lips warmly against her temple.
It was their designated reading position, intimate enough to enjoy extensive physical contact while it allowed them both a clear view on the book. It was also the most practical way to fit two adult bodies in the tiny Atlantean bed, that was obviously not intended for sharing.
Elizabeth fitted nicely in the frame of his legs, and she was tall enough to allow him easy access to her hair, face and neck. With which he tended to distract himself all too often when he wasn’t in the right mood for literature. She sometimes fussed a little then, craning her neck to escape his attentions and recalling his focus on the book. Other times the book lay abandoned on the floor beside the bed, still open at the page they’d been reading.
“If it has a Stargate or it’s not too far by Puddle Jumper I think it could be worth a shot. There might be something of strategic importance left among the ruins. Plans on how to defeat the Wraith, projects or prototypes of weapons…a ZPM…If, on the other hand, another civilization has developed on the planet we’ll try to make contact and hopefully, establish a mutually productive alliance.” She turned a thin page, and to do so she placed the PDA momentarily on her abdomen, just under the strong arm slung casually across her waist. She felt him shift a little against her back, muscles flexing and pressing into her shoulder blades, as his other hand reached for the device.
“Aren’t you running a little too fast?” He threw an idle look at her notes and replaced the PDA where he found it. “These books were supposed to be a diversion, you know. Foreign narrative. Cultural exercise.” He teased her lightly.
Not that he’d ever really thought it would work.
Elizabeth’s mind was constantly active in taking care of the city and its residents, and she was always ready to lend a helping hand to those who needed one. Always focused on the task at hand – sometimes more than one at once, he mused -, the rare times she wasn’t presented with an external challenge she created one herself.
The only real relief came with sleep, and even that didn’t come in large quantities in the city of the Ancients. And when earpieces weren’t buzzing and alarms weren’t howling, there were still too many nightmares that came to haunt them at night.
He had seen their leader either physically and psychologically beaten on different occasions by now, and she had always been able to pick herself up afterwards.
Every time a little more disillusioned, every time with a few more cracks in her shiny armor and a few more lines on her face.
John wondered how much more she could take before she fell apart completely, and hoped he would never have to find out. He took her weight when she leaned, and she did the same when he needed her to, keeping the delicate balance that maintained them both sane and efficient in their jobs.
He tried to keep the thought of one of them missing in the equation out of his mind, at least as much as their always precarious situation allowed, and treasured every moment he spent with her and his team.
“Maybe I am. But it’s still nice to dream sometimes, isn’t it?” She sighed. She twisted her torso to look up at him, as if she were searching in his eyes a confirmation to her own words.
John smiled his assent and buried his face in the crook of her soft neck as she resumed her tirade. She smelled warm and clean, of water and the Athosian herbal soap she and many other women on Atlantis had come to prefer to the military issued bars. The t-shirt she had thrown on after the shower had the vague scent of fabric softener he’d come to associate to Atlantis and her.
With his woman in his arms and no impending doom on the city he felt relaxed enough to be ready to spoon up and sleep, and Elizabeth still sounded as eager as she had when she’d given her speech at the SGC, before they all stepped through the Stargate.
John suspected it had a lot to do with the amount of sugar currently running through her veins.
“It’s fascinating. Apparently this civilization had reached a technological level similar to that of mid-nineteenth England before the Wraith attacked the planet.”
“Very interesting.” He mumbled idly, his lips vibrating against the skin of her neck.
“John, people on Earth were still drawing bulls on cave walls ten thousand years ago. If you think about it…”
“It’s overwhelming, I know.”
Her mouth snapped shut as she tilted her head and studied his face, her own expression slightly bewildered. It was easy sometimes to forget the contemplative nature that lay beneath the stereotypical aviator attitude. She reached up and placed a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth, his two-day stubble scraping a little the softer skin of her cheek.
“What was that for?”
She looked away, and he followed her movement to return her gesture with a kiss of his own. “I just…thank you for today. And for every day you stand at my side.”
John smiled the warm smile that was reserved for their private moments only. Sometimes it was hard to believe all this –Atlantis, the Ancients, the Wraith, Elizabeth – was real; that he’d come so far.
He often thought he was going to wake up one morning and find himself still at McMurdo, his head full of doubts on whether leaving the air force to become a civilian pilot would be the wisest choice for his destroyed career. John shook the thoughts away once again.
“It’s going to cost you a little more than a peck on the cheek, you know.” He ran the side of his foot up her long calf, lifting up the leg of her sweatpants in the process. He noticed with pleasure that she had shaven during shower and he let his foot linger a little more than necessary, rubbing up and down against the smooth skin.
“Wasn’t earlier enough for you?” The tone she voiced it in was almost enough to shake all thoughts of cuddles and sleep out of his head. She stretched, using him for support, her back arching just a little bit and her neck fully exposed a mere inch from his lips. John’s nerves tingled pleasantly where she was pressed tightly against him, and he wished he had a third hand to run down her spine, feeling each small indentation beneath the thin silk of her skin.
“Well…” He pulled a mock-pensive face as a stray hand crept down toward the waistband of her pants.
She laughed, blocking his hand. “Don’t push your luck, Sheppard.” She squeezed that same hand then, her laughter dying and her voice turning soft. “You know, I really meant it when I said thank you.”
She fingered the pendant resting at the base of her throat. Her eyes had looked about to pop out of their sockets when she had found the slender velvet box under the pillow, drifting from him to the box and back again as she uncovered the necklace.
A small gold star dangled just below a slightly bigger white gold one; elegant, yet simple. And if the shimmer in her eyes as he had fastened it around her neck had meant something, he was pretty sure she had liked the unexpected gift.
“You know, you shouldn’t have. The books were more than enough.” She added.
John’s lips trailed a lazy path from her cheek down to the sharp angle of her jaw.
“I wanted to.” And he did, since he’d seen the necklace stare back at him from a shop window in Colorado Springs the last time they had visited Earth.
It had reminded him of her because, after all they’d been through, she could still look at the stars in awe and appreciate the wonders of nature without the clinical –or cynical- eye that had spread like a disease among the expedition members.
His thoughts might have not been of a romantic nature back then, but one way or another, she had already worked her way under his skin.
No rings or bracelets for practical Dr.Weir. The plastic and rubber SGC watch was the only item she allowed near her restless hands, tied tight enough around her slim wrist so it wouldn’t get in the way while she typed.
“It’s too much.” She was still watching the metal shine at her every breath under the artificial light of the room, streaks of brightness flashing against the opposite wall as she moved. Elizabeth had a vague memory of doing the same with her watch in 8th grade, during a particularly boring lesson.
“You deserve it. And I thought your neck looked naked like that.” He also felt the need to mark her as his after she had shed the reminder of her relationship with Dr. Wallace, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her, or to anyone else.
“I thought you liked me naked.” Her face was currently hidden from him by a curtain of brunette curls, but he knew her well enough to know her right eyebrow would be arched suggestively.
“Still do. Although, you’ll agree with me that jewels add a sexy touch.” He kissed her shoulder where the thin chain rested against her skin. “And then it will act as a breastplate.”
“A what?” She scowled.
“It was in one of those poems we read last month. The glimmer of the breastplate distracts the fools people from what’s beneath, or something like that.” With his other hand already resting on her ribs, it took him a minimum effort to rub the underside of a breast through the thin fabric of her shirt.
“It’s John Donne, and you make him sound so trivial.” Elizabeth glared good-naturedly up at him.
He shrugged. “Hey, I’m a practical man.”
“Your interpretation of the verses is wrong.” She continued, crumbling his defense.
“Let’s call it a free adaptation then.” He insisted, a lopsided grin shaping on his face.
Elizabeth sighed inwardly. She decided to let him win the mock argument and relaxed against him as he dropped small kisses down the side of her neck and along her collarbone.
It was one of those times when she couldn’t tell whether he was being genuinely naïve and clueless or was just putting up an act to hide something that he didn’t want revealed. He was so used to the part that even her diplomatic skills didn’t help her to discern between the man and the façade. At this point, she wasn’t even sure John himself could anymore.
“People will wonder where this comes from.” She whispered softly.
“You can say it comes from a relative, or a close friend. Pretty much everyone gets things from Earth.” He didn’t, just like Elizabeth herself, and Rodney, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now.
Feeling his arm on her stomach become heavier and his kisses reduced to a mere pressure of his lips on her skin, she reluctantly closed the book and set it gently on the bedside table, her PDA on top.
John automatically released his hold of her, letting her sit up and stretch her back once again. She rolled onto her fours and straddled him briefly – drawing his undivided attention to her for a moment - before she collapsed at his right side, the mattress bouncing slightly under her weight.
“Goodnight.” She was just reaching out to kiss him when her earpiece crackled to life.
“And Happy Birthday, Dr.Weir.” John grimaced warily as she fixed the device to her ear and tapped it active.
“Yes?” She was silent for a moment before she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed the rumpled uniform from where it had been unceremoniously discarded on the floor in their previous haste to get to the bed.
“Any life threatening injuries?” At this, John’s head sprung from the pillow, the soldier in him overriding his tiredness. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and worry, and he urged Elizabeth to share the information with a mouthed ‘what.’
A raised hand in his direction calmed him momentarily as she slipped into her fatigue pants.
“Good to hear. Shall I alert Sheppard?” she nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute. Weir out.” Elizabeth tapped the earpiece again, effectively terminating the conversation, and turned to her waiting companion.
“One of the off-world teams due back tomorrow morning has had an accident and has just gated back. Only minor injuries, Carson is already treating them. Lorne also insisted that I let you sleep.”
Both eyebrows quirked upwards this time, as well as a corner of her mouth.
“I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulled her down for a gentle kiss, to which she responded almost desperately.
“Don’t wait up for me, you’ll probably see me at tomorrow’s briefing anyway.” She sighed and let him rub her back soothingly as she rather unwillingly tied up her boots.
“Be sure to get some sleep before then, okay? Come back here if you can. You know I’ll miss you.” That, at least, made her smile, and earned him an extra kiss before she narrowed her eyes, squared her shoulders and walked out in long strides into the core of Atlantis.
***Finito***
A/N 2: John’s haphazard quote comes from John Donne’s Elegy “To his mistress going to bed.”
The original verses read:
“Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopp'd there.”
