About
white knights
Author: wanderingsmith
Mar 2008
Summary: He's not the only one who defended someone's honour...
Spoilers: lets just say anything up to 302:Misbegotten
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
AN: not often I actually follow up on story prompts, don't get
used to it odakota_rose ;)!
Goto Chapter 2: White knights and dark nights
Chapter one: About white knights
Stephen Caldwell walked into the Atlantis cafeteria, looking for
something closer to coffee than his ship could offer. Seeing the city's
military commander sitting in a dark corner looking perturbed, he
assumed Woolsey had found a new target and decided to see if he could
be of service. In this at least, his loyalty was definitely with
Sheppard and Weir.
Taking a sip of his drink he came to stand behind the man's chair,
somewhat surprised at the lack of reaction he got from the usually
alert soldier. "You look disturbed colonel."
Sheppard's head whipped to him in shock, "Sir! Sorry." He started to
get up, "Must have been deeper in thought than I usually get."
Stephen waved him back to his seat casually, taking the chair opposite.
"Something bothering you?"
He could see the younger man hesitate, see him once again remember to
switch to his version of 'good subordinate' mode. Wondering how he'd
managed to reach the rank of major with his obvious habit of forgetting
how to behave with superior officers. "Off the record, if you'd like,
colonel."
"I..." Sheppard shook himself out of the discomfort and sat back down.
"Woolsey was... being insulting."
Stephen blinked in mild surprise, "He came after *you*? For some reason
I was pretty sure he was only after Dr. Weir this time."
"He was. Questioned every damned decision she's made, as though he had
*any* idea what the Hell he was even talking about!" John looked up
when Caldwell choked on a sip of coffee. His brows rose when he saw the
mad glee rising in the usually stoic man's eyes, for a moment
uncomfortably reminded of the goa'uld glow of a few months past.
"You two really are a matched pair, do you know that?"
"Sir?"
---------------------------------------------------
"You defended me in front of a roomful of colonels and general??"
Elizabeth jerked her head away from the water, fingers unconsciously
tightening on the balcony railing before she turned, putting it behind
her. She frowned at the combination of shock and happiness in John's
eyes. "What are you talking about colonel?"
He grinned, slowly stalking up to her, too high from his discovery to
listen to his good sense reminding him to keep his distance. "A year
ago. You talked the military into making me a colonel. Just so I could
stay in charge?" 'So you could keep me'; those words remained unspoken,
though they probably shined out of his smirk pretty obviously. "*You*
defended *my* honour, Dr. Weir?"
Her refusal to shrink back from him meant there was only an inch of
space between them by the time his long arms gripped the railing on
either side of her. She could count on the fingers of one hand the
number of times they'd been remotely so close without deadly danger
surrounding them. Could feel the smell of warm John-skin burrow into
her lungs. Had to tighten her hands into hard fists to resist reaching
out and pulling him that last little bit closer.
Instead she frowned repressively at him, "You deserved to be colonel.
They were being dense. It's my job as your boss to make sure you are
rewarded for your hard work and sacrifices." How she managed to pull
that out of her hat so quickly and calmly she would never know, but she
was rather proud of herself.
When he almost bent down and kissed her for her obvious obfuscating,
John realized he was standing far too close for safety and pulled
himself back; by almost a whole inch. "Whatever I deserved, those
people would never have handed me silver leaves. I always wondered who
had made them give." He smiled, "Thank you." He gave a quiet puff of
laughter, "I can't remember the last time someone defended me. Let
along to such a tough room. Thank you."
By the end, his voice was as soft as the smile in his eyes and
Elizabeth couldn't help but return it. The need to touch him almost
making her twitch in frustration. "You've done the same for me."
"Woolsey"
She shook her head, interrupting his self-deprecating words, "Not just
Woolsey. I remember how you stood up to Everett when he tried to take
over. I know you didn't place much value on your career before we met,
but... I also know losing Atlantis would bother you as much as it would
me. And that's what you risked when you disobeyed him."
They were too close. She could feel his arms tightening on either side
of her with the same strained restraint digging her nails into her
palms. Fought the tendency of her eyes to slip to his lips, and the
too-clearly remembered feel of them. Used her year-old remembered fury
to distract her, "You *earned* the post of military commander of
Atlantis. And you are the *best* man for the job. I didn't say a word
to those men that wasn't true. The fact that I had to threaten them is
not a reflection on *you*, but on *them*." His finger coming to rest on
her lips silenced her increasingly angry words.
"I believe you." He shrugged, smiling as he finally pulled back, making
himself step away, "Doesn't matter anyway. You're right, what I want is
on Atlantis, not in a rank. I just... needed to thank you." He grinned
teasingly, "And to say that I wish I'd been half as good at defending
*your* honour."
AN2: ugh, UST. sorry. I'll try to make it up to you (and myself)
somehow ;)
Title: Chapter two: White knights
and dark
nights
Apr 2008
Summary: A drink on a balcony can go many places
AN: many many thanks
to leave_me_light and odakota_rose for playing wall ;)
John watched the sun set over the gently rippling ocean, leaning
back on the wall, facing the outside balcony's railing. Enjoying the
clean, brisk air after his little trip in the badly-damaged hive ship.
Thinking about close calls. And strange relationships.
'John Sheppard! Are you defending my honour?' He had been. Always
would, he knew, though he would not have put it that way. He took a
small sip from the cup he held. Listening to that ignorant jackass
pontify about decisions that he knew had cost Elizabeth pain had just
made him so damn furious... And for *anyone* to question his loyalty to
her! Damn him!
He made himself think of Caldwell's description of Elizabeth defending
him, *him*, instead. Feeling the anger pass on into the past. Smiling
dopily at the image of Atlantis' calm, upstanding, serious-minded...
beautiful, playful, sexy, caring... leader. Defending *his*
trouble-causing ass. He was going to live on that memory for the rest
of his life.
'You're just as hopeless. Otherwise you wouldn't have agreed.'
Romantic. No. *Definitely* not him. The fact that he couldn't say 'no'
to Elizabeth had nothing to do with being a romantic, it had to do with
complete inability to resist teasing/ tempting/ caring eyes and grin.
And gentle touches that they both *mostly* restrained themselves from
sharing.
God help them all if she ever *was* compromised, because it would break
him to have to deny her.
'Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Come in!' It was an old military
selfishness that allowed him to continue going out, putting himself in
harm's way, yet made him fiercely dread any *hint* of threat coming to
her. That left her expected to function no matter what happened to him,
yet made him willing to destroy Atlantis in revenge for her loss.
Her broken words a few days ago, when they finally managed to be in the
same room after her return from Earth, had been a verbal admission that
had caught him by surprise. She usually kept her feeling under tight
wrap. Well, except for the teasing.
On the other hand, he'd had too many close calls, woken in the
infirmary too many times to Elizabeth asleep in a chair nearby, or
leaning over him with tired eyes. He knew it hurt her when he went
missing, tried to keep the knowledge from crippling him in the field;
tried, when he made it home, to tell her silently that he was there for
her, that she could lean on him. That he would do his very best to be
anything she needed.
This time he took a good swallow of his drink, leaning his head back
against the smooth wall, closing his eyes to the beauty before him.
Trying not to have the sappy thought that he could bring greater beauty
to mind. Smiling ruefully when he heard her very footsteps approaching
and hesitate when her eyes found him. She always seemed to find him.
He waved his empty hand lazily, barely lifting it from his bent knee,
"It's okay, just enjoying the fresh air."
He felt the warmth of her body settle a few inches away beside him.
Without even a word spoken he felt the tension riding his shoulders go
down a notch, her silent support a constant he would be hard-pressed to
do his job without. To enjoy his every *day* without.
"How did you find out about my involvement in your promotion, anyway?"
Her voice was only mildly curious, making conversation.
"Caldwell."
"Ah. Should have thought of that. And why did he suddenly decide to
clue you in?"
"Ummmm. I might have expressed... my, 'opinion', of Woolsey's
conversation."
Elizabeth choked back a laugh.
"Yeah. He thought it was pretty funny too." He grinned, always glad to
be able to tease her, "'Course, he also looked amused when he said you
used the **president** and the *IOA* to threaten Landry over *my*
serving under you." Now he opened his eyes to see if he could spot a
blush in the changing light. Nope. But he could read the shape of a
blush in her expression. When their eyes met they both laughed a bit,
acknowledging the humour anyone would find in their mutual white knight
behaviour, finally going back to watching the sunset through the
railing slats.
"You did the right thing, John."
No matter how soft and comforting her voice, he still tensed, losing
his smile. Melancholy reminiscing on their relationship was far more to
his taste than thinking about yet another ethically painful decision.
"I would have ordered you to do the same. You know, *knew* that."
"Yes." And if he'd thought that she didn't take personal responsibility
for his decisions he could have at least been thankful that he was
saving her some pain. But Elizabeth would never shrug off something
like that.
And so they both sat, absorbing another blow from their work, sharing
what strength they could, silently and without touching. Leaders
leaning against the structure protecting their people; metaphorically
the first line of defense against any attack.
When he took another sip, he felt the shape of her warmth change,
guessed her arm was reaching out. Automatically handed her the cup.
When she choked and sputtered he straightened, eyes opening quickly,
patting her on the back and taking the drink back with an apologetic
grin, "Sorry, should have warned you."
She shook her head, catching her breath with a last cough, "I should
have stopped to think when it wasn't warm. May I have that back please?"
He laughed at her eager, if cough-rusty, tone, making a note to sneak
her one of Lorne's special bottles of Earth-imported water.
"You're not planning to make a habit of this, are you?"
Her tone was mostly teasing, but he still made sure to look her right
in the eye when he replied, "No." He shrugged with a small grin, "First
time. Had to make sure it was good stuff."
Her brows flew up, "You mean to tell me it took two years for someone
to start smuggling booze in??"
"Err..."
He rolled his eyes when she broke her poker face to laugh, letting him
off the hook, "The old stuff was either ridiculously expensive, or
worse than rotgut. I don't have enough of a taste for alcohol to bother
with either one."
"Ummm." He watched her take another swallow, "This is actually pretty
smooth when you don't think it's coffee."
He grinned, seeing the laughter flashing in her eyes, taking his cup
back and returning to his position against the wall. Closing his eyes
again just so he could concentrate on the rest of his senses. Smell
lavender, feel warm body near, hear relaxed breathing. Hear her swallow
as they passed the drink back and forth, warm fingers touching briefly.
Feel his own body awake and aware as it only was in these quiet moments
with her. And a different warmth stealing through his bloodstream from
the vodka.
"You were only half right, you know." He was glad his voice was still
clear, had an unconcerned thought that the drink was loosening his
tongue.
Elizabeth let her head loll toward him, curious.
"The other day, when you said I would miss Atlantis." He rolled his
head sideways so he could watch her reaction as he spoke, smiling at
how relaxed she was. "You were right that I don't *really* care about
rank," he grinned quickly, "Or at least not much." He softened, "But
it's not really *Atlantis* I'd miss either."
When she reached out and put her hand on his, he passed the cup to his
right and set it down, out of the way, turning his left hand to hold
hers against his knee; not quite sober enough to resist twining their
fingers together. Looking at her long pale digits held in his rough
beaten ones in the last of the setting sunlight. "Just how close were
you to not coming home?"
She met his eyes sadly, squeezing his knee as she shrugged, "Close. As
close as you."
He nodded, frowning when he saw her shiver. With the awareness of how
close he came to losing her, again, so close to mind, and the drink
letting him second-guess their established status quo, he slipped his
arm around her shoulders, tugging her to rest along his side.
"Colonel!" Elizabeth jerked, the habit from two years of keeping the
distance between them beating back the drink muddling her thoughts.
"Shhhhh. You're chilled." He could feel heat coming from her body, but
the surface of her shirt was cold, and so were the brief patches of
skin he encountered at neck and wrist as he rubbed her arm.
She shuddered, the contrast of his warmth making her feel the change in
temperature that had been hiding under her alcoholic flush. As he
tightened his grip in response and pulled her even closer, she felt her
resistance melt. Warmth, safety, and John's heartbeat reverberating
through his ribcage and into her ear. Why was she suppose to fight this
again?
Giving in for now, she accepted his offer, cuddling her upper body into
him, right arm between them, across her chest, hand on his thigh, her
left hand hooking into a button of his shirt. His hand stroking warmth
into her back, her head resting just above his heart.
John's head had long since returned to resting back on the wall and he
felt Elizabeth finally relax into him.
The drink was making them both drowsy when he heard her speak softly.
"John?" She felt a shiver under her cheek and raised her head, "You're
cold too!"
John frowned, annoyed at her moving and with no idea what she was
talking about, "No, I'm not."
"You shivered."
"Oh. That."
Elizabeth frowned at his stubbornly closed eyes, fighting his grip to
sit up, "What do you mean 'that'?"
He blew out a breath, rolling his eyes under their lids as he pulled
her back firmly against him. "'s *nothing*."
"John..." she growled warningly, stopping the imminent tirade when he
shivered again. "Oh!"
It was his turn to growl, glad she wasn't looking at him anymore to see
him blush, "Yes. Oh. Now will you just settle down. This was supposed
to be unwinding time." He waited until she slowly let him hold her
again, sad to feel the tension stay with her this time. Oh well, the
closeness had been nice while it lasted. He tried to keep the
disappointment from his tone, "What were you going to ask?"
When she didn't answer, he squeezed the shoulder under his hand gently,
silently apologizing for changing the mood.
He was on the edge of dozing off a few minutes later when he felt one
of her hands come back to rest on his chest. He smiled a bit, still
drowsing, content with that much returning touch.
There were so many conflicting thoughts and feelings in Elizabeth's
mind. If taking care of John hadn't been so instinctive, she would have
gotten up by now, escaping the feelings they'd both taught themselves
to avoid.
But although her life hadn't been at risk this time, he'd still felt
the brush with loss. And she'd feared him dead; again. The Pegasus
galaxy had never let them hold to their wishes not to scare each other.
Not to scar each other.
Then there was the fact that she couldn't remember ever spending so
long so physically close to him. Knew that this memory would make
staying away a hundred times harder tomorrow. And the next day. But it
was comforting. It'd been a long time since she'd allowed herself to
drink so much so quickly, and the comfort had snuck in before she could
raise the shield of her independence.
But his reaction was forcing her to face reality, alcoholic haze or no.
She was denying them *both*. Was it worth it? Could she possibly feel
his loss any *more*, even if they were involved? Her years on Atlantis,
and under John's bad influence, had made her willingness to bow to
ridiculous rules get very thin, and the IOA already didn't trust her
anyway. She really didn't give a damn if anyone complained about where
she slept. If there was even a chance that they could continue to
function professionally, was it worth the energy they spent staying
apart, the strength they couldn't give each other?
Maybe she should have had a drink or two before now; once she allowed
herself to think it through, rather than utterly block out the very
possibility... And she'd never *really* stopped to factor in John's
feelings before either.
She could feel him getting toward sleepy now, feel his arm get heavier
around her and his breathing slow. Found her hand inching toward him,
automatically seeking his heartbeat. If they could go to sleep this way
every day or night, whichever Atlantis allowed them, what better peace
might they find for their wounded souls. What strength and clarity of
mind to face the next challenges.
She burrowed closer, knowing she was close to a decision. Sliding her
fingers idly into the gaps between the buttons in his shirt. Felt him
shiver again through his ever-present T-shirt. There was a happy smirk
pulling at her lips suddenly. Teasing John had always been a guilty
pleasure she only allowed herself because he seemed to enjoy it too.
How much more teasing could she get in if they... And 'there', that was
it, she had enough! She'd as good as decided that their, or at least
*her* reasons for staying apart were rootless. Damned if she'd waste
another *minute* of their lives.
John was jostled out of his light sleep when she sat up, grumbling
incoherently as he woke, finally whining, "'Lizabeth..."
He opened his eyes as she shifted herself to her knees in the space
between his bent legs, not having any time to react further before she
leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
There was enough drink and sleep in him that he just stared for a
second in shock, before his hands slid to her ribs to hold her, touch
her. Happy to let her lead him wherever she wished.
Closing his eyes as they kissed, gentle touches that never deepened
physically, and yet he could feel himself drowning in her, needing
every new taste to stay afloat. Every touch of her lips drawing him to
mirror it, drawing him to straighten slowly to follow her own slow
rising, trying to get closer. Waking him completely, mind and body.
Heart and soul.
His hands drifted up her ribs and slowed, thumbs stroking the rounded
softness they encountered, making her shiver as she kissed the side of
his nose. He pulled back, grinning teasingly up at her as she tilted
her head with a smile. She liked seeing playful John, loved that he
played with her, and for her.
"What?"
"I like you way better than Phebus."
She laughed, looked up at the sky as she took an instant to remember
exactly what the other woman had done, and then leaned forward again,
sliding her hands to just stroke the bottoms of his ears. Opening her
lips on his and insistently sliding her tongue right in. Smiling when
John groaned and generally responded far more enthusiastically than
Thalen had.
She pulled back slightly when his hands slid to her hips and tugged her
tight against him. Waggling her eyebrows teasingly, and a little
drunkenly, as she gripped his shoulders for balance.
John laughed, enthralled anew with the complex woman who held his heart
in her careful hands. "Definitely better."
Elizabeth watched him laugh, determined to make it happen more often,
glad to see the cares slip away from him for the time being. Her hands
rode up to frame his jaw again, rather enjoying looking 'down' into his
smiling face. Feeling drawn to the affection in his eyes, she leaned
down with every intention of seeing how long the two of them could
stick to innocent kissing.
John laid a gentle finger across her lips before they could make
contact and destroy his good intentions. Eyes focused longingly on
where his finger was slowly stroking, his voice was soft, "We shouldn't
do this now. You might regret it in the morning."
Her lips stretched into a lazy grin, "Defending my honour again, John?"
Snorting a quick laugh, he changed his grip on her, carefully
rearranging her cooperative body to sit across his thighs, head on his
shoulder. Snagging his cup again, he passed it to her, "If you're still
sure tomorrow..."
Elizabeth took the offered drink, raising a brow at his unfinished
statement and the promise in his darkening eyes, "If I'm sure?..."
The sinful smirk that crossed his face left her with no doubt as to
what he was thinking about. And convinced her that she was sleeping in
his quarters so morning would come all the faster. Even if she had to
pull out her negotiating skills to get there once they finished the few
swallows of liquor left.
AN: anuna_81 and
Rising brought the booze ;)
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