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Elizabeth had never wanted to fall into clichés about the ‘loneliness of command’ - not when she had a job beyond anything she could ever have dreamed of and a City she loved with all her heart - but it didn’t seemed to matter what she wanted or intended. Loneliness came with the office, as much a part of the furnishings as the chair and the paperwork and the ever growing piles of responsibility, which weighed down the desk and made it buckle and groan.
She loved her people, but she couldn’t allow any specific friendship to override her leadership; any favouritism to sway her judgment (as if that was possible; as if she could control her feelings with the twiddle of a knob, fine-tuning her caring to a flat even rate, all round). And, as for anything else, there was no one here with whom she could have a completely equal relationship, where the imbalance of power wouldn’t cast a long shadow and poke awkward little holes in everything. Where the fact that, for Elizabeth, Atlantis would always - always - come first, wouldn’t undermine anything real and solid, before it even began.
The closest to her, from the Earth contingent, in both time spent together and equality of power, were Carson - her doctor, which had its own set of problems - and John and Rodney. But those two had already latched onto each other, like a couple of kids who swore to be blood brothers at their first meeting and had been squabbling, playing, shoving metaphorical beetles down each others’ backs and generally wrapped up in each other ever since. They were still her friends, and good ones, but there was no ignoring the barrier there; even if it was just in her own mind.
But it was Teyla, despite their cultural differences and the packed schedules which made their longer meetings painfully rare, who was easiest to find common ground with and to put aside all the complicated dynamics of their day to day life and just talk about … stuff. Hobbies, interests, personal philosophies. Anecdotes from two very different lives. Popcorn versus milk duds, as the ultimate movie snack.
(Teyla had very, very passionate views on the subject).
Occasionally, even their respective love lives would come up: Elizabeth’s only in the past; Teyla’s proving both more active and complex than Elizabeth would ever have expected from the demure, self-contained woman she’d first met (and that was a lesson about assumptions right there; one of many she kept relearning in this galaxy).
She also gently corrected Elizabeth’s references to her current ‘crush’.
“A ‘crush’, as I understand the term, suggests feelings which go beyond what I would call … physical appreciation and respect. Love and sex can be very satisfyingly intertwined, but they are, as my grandmother would say, each seasoned well enough without the other.”
Which was very much not what her own grandmother would have said. There would have been something rather electric about harlots in there, if Elizabeth had ever suggested she might want to just have a bit of fun. As to what she would have thought of a love without ‘conjugal duties’; that might have been even more appalling, in its way.
“You know, I don’t think I ever loved Simon, quite as much as I loved what he represented. That life, that balance I’d always wanted to achieve, successful, but without sacrificing a relationship. Actually, looking back, I think what I miss most is the dog.”
An image of Sedgewick sat up in her head, alert and eager, with a welcoming bark, and Elizabeth regretted reminding herself, because, damn; she really, really did miss her.
Teyla gently squeezed her hand, a look of understanding on her face.
“In my culture, too, it is common to have companion animals, particularly in a position of responsibility. They remind one to take a break from time to time, stir compassion, and provide comfort without judgment or expectation. Also, they are often good at tracking land squid.”
“I might find that more of a drawback than a plus.”
Teyla laughed and they shared stories of the worst thing they’d ever eaten - Teyla resoundingly won - before saying goodnight. But Elizabeth’s dreams were filled with long, laughing walks; the steady thump of a happy tail; and a warm press of affectionate dog against her leg.
~~~
Teyla had turned the idea over for a while, musing on loneliness and that certain light in Elizabeth’s eyes; before opening her plan of attack.
“Kate was telling me a little about therapy animals,” she dropped into one conversation and, “Did I ever tell you about the lerpa I had as a child?”
These sallies struck even more of a chord than anticipated. Teyla learned much - possibly too much - about turtles from Carson and pigeons from Radek Zelenka. She found that Chuck had kept giant snails as a child and named them after his favourite hockey players.
As for her teammates, John proved to have a huge soft spot for dogs and horses, while Rodney visibly mellowed at even the mention of cats (but she gained the impression that, while each of them derided the others’ choice of favoured animal, they both secretly liked them too, but refused to admit it, with that stubborn insistence on denial over the oddest of things, which she had noted in them before).
Ronon’s views on animals were mostly flavour-related, but he was quick enough to see that she had an agenda and to endorse it.
“It’s kind of sterile here, on the City. I like the shelter, not being cold or wet all the time … but it misses the beat of life mingling with life. The reminder that we’re not all there is. All that matters.”
It took less than a week before Teyla could safely put the brakes on her own subtle planting of ideas and allow the notion of bringing animals onto Atlantis, to quietly ferment like a slow-brewing ale.
Potential objections were raised and knocked down, one after the other, evidence having been triumphantly uncovered that the Ancients kept pets of their own and that it ought to be easy enough to adapt a few of the larger areas to make them more enriching for both animals and people, alike. Food sources and practicality were discussed and safety issues were broached and overcome.
There were concerns about Earth animals affecting the Pegasus ecosystem if they were accidentally released offworld, but it was simple enough to minimise the risks by mostly opting for Pegasus animals or Earth pets who were unable to breed.
And then there was the fact that the laboratory mice had endeared themselves so much to their keepers that experiments on them had unofficially ceased and now they were just kicking back and enjoying mouse retirement, while people took turns to look after and pet them.
Proposals were drawn up, with special notice to be given to Kate Heightmeyer’s brilliantly argued treatise on the many benefits of animal companionship in such an inherently traumatising environment and Rodney McKay’s sprawling essay which might as well have been entitled ‘Why cats are essentially perfect and can I have one, please (also, other pets for other people, I guess)?”
It was Elizabeth who was hardest to persuade to join her weight to the campaign.
“I appreciate all the arguments in favour. But …”
“But you can’t decide whether this is actually a genuinely good thing for Atlantis, or if you’re swayed by the fact that you miss your dog?”
Elizabeth smiled, a little ruefully.
“I suppose so. And there’s the welfare of the animals themselves to consider. I can’t let the personal get in the way of what’s right.”
Teyla refrained from pointing out that she already had done, several times; that it was too fundamentally human a trait to avoid.
“You seem very sure that something that benefits you, can’t also be right for Atlantis as a whole. Is that not also letting the personal get in the way?”
Elizabeth frowned, but nodded.
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
Teyla smiled and turned the conversation to the Bantos lessons which Elizabeth had recently started.
“You mean the ‘repeatedly getting knocked on my ass’ lessons.”
“Which is a very important accomplishment to learn.”
There was no further need to push the pet angle. Teyla had a feeling that it would all work out just fine.
She was really looking forward to seeing Elizabeth’s eyes light up again in earnest.
~~~
The office was a little different these days. No less full of responsibility and hard decisions; failures and mistakes which lurked in the corners like predatory spiders, ever ready to pounce.
But it also held a food and a water bowl and a mangled chew toy, which blinked up at her with resignation, after its latest session of being extremely loved, via the medium of teeth.
Sedge leaned against Elizabeth’s legs with a contented sigh and wagged the last cold traces of loneliness out of existence.
And it wasn’t just her; the whole City seemed just a little more hopeful and happier; more full of blooming life and compassion and something bigger than humanity.
Elizabeth didn’t know how to express her thanks to Teyla (who would deny all credit anyway). Except to keep on going to her Bantos lessons and learning how to get knocked down gracefully; and to keep getting up again.