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It's been five weeks, three days and eighteen hours since John Sheppard admitted to himself that maybe he is in love with Elizabeth Weir.
Though not surprised, he's not quite sure what to do with this revelation.
What he knows is that he feels too much. There are days when he just looks at her, a smile on her lips, a smile rarely anyone sees and his chest tightens. He knows he's falling; tries to stop himself but he can't. She's just so god damned beautiful and elegant and stubborn and resilient and independent and graceful and funny and smart; things his previous girlfriends never really were.
He doesn’t touch her; the rare occasions that he does is when she’s in danger, when he feels too much and can’t be bothered to stop himself. It’s because he knows that if he does, he’ll never stop. If he touches her; a palm to her cheek, a brush of his fingers on her hair, a hand to hers, so deliberate in its intent that he feels that if he just touch her, he’ll never let go.
He thinks though, that he could be contended with this. This… thing that they have. Late night talks, quiet conversations out on her balcony, morning coffees and the occasional lingering looks. He knows that their lives are complicated enough, and doesn’t need the added stress of a relationship (of course, that is, if Elizabeth feels the same way). But sometimes, late at night--- when he feels the burden of his mortality, or when he contemplates losing Elizabeth because that particular day he though he had--- he thinks about her and how she’d be worth every argument and every reprimand they throw at them, because with the way he feels, he knows, knows that this is something worth fighting for.
And for all these... feelings that he has, he tells himself that they have time. Time for him to wrap his head around what he's feeling, and for him to do something about it.
Later, he tells himself. Later when the Wraith are gone. Later when they have established themselves more as a colony. Later when the IOA stops breathing down their necks too much. Just, later.
*******
It's movie night and Elizabeth doesn't show, so he goes out looking for her. John's a bit annoyed and worried, because he made sure that she knew they were showing the first Star Wars tonight (he's one of the few people who knows she's actually a bit of a sci-fi geek).
He stops by her office and before he can even ask Chuck where she is, Chuck tilts his head towards the balcony and John gets the message.
"Hey, you didn't go to movie night." John says as a greeting, when the doors swish open to reveal Elizabeth Weir looking out into the ocean.
Elizabeth looks so startled, she almost drops the thing she's holding in her hand.
John though moves quicker than she expects. He's at her side in an instant and he sees what she's holding before she can hide it away in her pocket.
"I've always wondered where you got that. You used to wear it a lot." John asks, curious.
Elizabeth "hmmm"s and starts playing with the silver necklace in her hand. A grim expression spreads across her face. A long time passes and when John thinks he's never getting a real answer out of her, she speaks softly, "Simon gave it to me."
"Oh." John says, surprised. Yes, Simon, he remembers. She let Simon's name slip late one night, when he and Elizabeth were both high on no sleep, eating in the mess and telling stories of their time on earth. She quickly stopped talking when she realized what she had said, and when John asked who Simon was, she just waved her hand dismissively, and told him that Simon was a doctor, and was just someone she used to see.
"As an anniversary present. Which I just remembered is today." Elizabeth continues. She tries for a smile, but fails. She looks over to the ocean again.
She must be more tired than usual, he thinks, because she doesn't usually open up like this. Even with three years of experience behind them, she rarely shares something so personal. Sure she tells him stories about how she lived in New York and how cold the weather was, or how her UN work lets her travel around the world-- but just vague notions about her life, skirting at the edges, never really revealing too much of herself.
“Oh god, I'm sorry" she laughs. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I must be really tired. Way too much paper work today. I should really be getting to bed. Good night." Elizabeth stammers out quickly, and before he knows it, she's out the door.
*******
They're drunk. Drunkity drunk drunk.
"The Athosians know how to throw one hell of a party!" one of the lieutenants yell, loud enough that John can hear it on the other side of the bonfire.
They’re at an Athosian wedding on the mainland, and of course all of them were invited. John had to convince Elizabeth to come (it would be good for morale to see their leader loosen up, he argued), and she had left Major Lorne in charge of Atlantis for a couple of hours.
He knows he should know better than to get drunk, but it’s late and the Athosian wine doesn’t really kick in till you’ve had three, maybe four glasses. He’s on his fourth and he can’t help but smile when he looks over at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth is off to the side, talking quietly to Teyla and someone else whose name he can't quite remember. She laughs softly at something Teyla said while holding a cup of what he assumes is Athosian wine. Her eyes are tired but she seems happy.
After a couple moments, Elizabeth excuses herself and heads over to the beach. John traces her movements but before he can make up his mind whether or not to follow her, he’s cornered by Rodney, babbling about this pretty girl he just met, who also happens to be a good cook.
A little while later, when John managed to slip away from Rodney, he goes over to where he saw Elizabeth head off. He finds her sitting, toes curled into the sand. Her eyes are closed as she listens to the ocean. His breath catches momentarily; there are times when he can’t ignore how beautiful she is.
She must have heard him, for she looks up, startled. But her expression quickly morphs into a smile when she realizes who it was.
John sits down beside her in the sand, their shoulders almost touching, but not quite.
“So, sneaking off, were you?” John teases. Gives her his best smile.
“Not quite. Some scientists looked like they were worried what I’d think if I saw them drinking and partying. Not much fun when your boss is there to witness your drunken antics, I suppose. I thought I might give them a little space.” Elizabeth laughs.
“Ah.” John nods.
“Well, such is the burden of leadership.” There is a hint of sadness in her voice that John can’t miss.
“Well, I can keep you company. I think the marines might just be feeling the same thing, with me being there.” He’s sure they’re not. He’s already seen a couple of marines drunk off their asses, but John would rather be here, with Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiles, and they both look over to the ocean, listening to the waves. A comfortable silence builds and John thinks about the sadness he sees in her eyes sometimes. The burden of command weighing down on her, and just how lonely she must feel. He thinks about that night on the balcony, when he caught her with the silver necklace; he thinks about what she had said just now, about giving her people space to breathe; how it is her who’s always so willing to compromise herself, just to assure everybody else is happy. He thinks about his own loneliness, with his own burden of command, and how that compares to Elizabeth’s.
He looks over her then, with this longing in his eyes he can’t quite hold back. After a few moments she tilts her head towards him, eyes a bit hazy, and he thinks about kissing her.
He thinks about kissing her until they can’t breathe. He thinks about touching her, pulling her into his arms. He thinks about making love to her. He knows though, that drunken sex is not quite what he wants. And since he’s thinking about these things, he knows he’s not drunk enough to try it.
Elizabeth stares at him, and then at his lips. He knows at that instant, that she wants to kiss him. He can see it, in her eyes. She almost leans in a bit, but Elizabeth (being Elizabeth) comes back to herself quickly, shakes her head a little, and says instead: “We’d better head back. We have to go back to the city soon.”
She stands up, takes her shoes and walks back to the bonfire. And that’s that.
In time, John thinks. Next time. Maybe.
*******
It’s close to midnight and they’re sitting in the mess hall, going over some reports and she’s venting to him about the scientists and how they always complain about being mistreated. She doesn’t do this very often, complain about how things are; so he knows that it’s been particularly bad this week.
“I’m sorry.” she says after a few minutes, once she realizes what she was doing. A smile creeps up her face and she looks embarrassed.
“It’s okay, I know how you feel. They really can be a pain in the ass.” John tells her and he can’t help but smile. “Especially when you’re the subject of their experiments and they poke you in places you didn’t even know you had.” he adds playfully.
They both laugh.
She reaches for his hand. It catches John by surprise because he’s spent a lot of time thinking about not touching her.
“Thank you John, for listening.” Elizabeth smiles with this look in her eyes, the one that gives him hope, the one that says maybe.
“Uhhh…” he stammers. “Of course”.
She pulls her hand back and goes back to work.
Yeah, he nods to himself. They have time.
********
In the end, when the Asurans came and all hell broke loose, John learns, that time-- was something they never had.