Obvious
Author: wanderingsmith
sept 2008
Summary: Observer effect
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I
play with 'em.
AN: little scene that appeared
Goto Chapter 2: Tango
Chapter one: Waltz
"For crying out loud, don't they realize how obvious they're being?"
Sam shrugged, watching the couple waltzing to a slow song.
Elegantly tall, their holds on each other comfortable and
unhesitatingly familiar. Moving with casual grace, bodies in sync
and in tune; mess dress and thigh-high-slit bright red silk dress
flowing together and apart smoothly, enacting their own dance.
"Did Landry ever tell you how she fought to keep him in command of
Atlantis' military?"
Jack gave her an intensely curious look, "Wondered how that happened. I
was too busy with other stuff to look into it..?"
Sam smirked, half tempted to hold his curiosity hostage for a turn on
the dance floor. But watching the other two gave her a funny
twitch in the stomach; maybe it wasn't such a good idea... "Landry got
the
call while I was in his office. Got in a real huff and took my
'umm?' as a reason to tell me how they'd planned to put Colonel
Caldwell in charge. And how, when she found out, she stalked out
on a
roomful of top brass, cheerfully -and truthfully, it turned out-
threatening them with
the president and the IOA."
By then Jack was grinning, mentally sending the doctor a high
five. "I wonder if he knows.."
Sam frowned reprehensibly at him, "General..." She knew he was
going to ignore her warning when he kept smirking at Sheppard, busy
leading his lady through turns, unaware of the danger.
"'The officer and the lady'," Jack intoned in fruity movie announcer
tones, waving a hand theatrically, "Nothing could separate them; not
the blue of a wormhole horizon, not a sea of brass.."
"Don't they realize how obvious they're being?" John knew he
sounded petulant, but watching General O'Neill grin down happily at a
giggling Colonel Carter made latent wishes of his own rear up in
jealousy.
Elizabeth shifted her weight automatically as his grip changed,
following his gaze to the old teammates and now good, close
friends. She shrugged as she and John both returned to looking at
each
other and executed a smooth turn, "Probably not. After all these
years, they probably think it's just the way you're supposed to feel.."
Chapter two
Oct 2008
AN: the dancing I
pictured was like the
dancers in blue and the second couple
(2:47 into the clip).
Standing on the edge of the dance floor as new music started, John
smiled challengingly and lifted his brows. "How are your knees feeling?"
Elizabeth smiled back quizzically, in no hurry to go back to mingling
with the stuffy brass in attendance, "My knees are fine. The
weather here is good for them."
"So?" He waggled is brows teasingly, head nodding lightly toward the
band.
Elizabeth listened to the music for a beat and then teased, feeling an
unwanted thrill at the thought of dancing *this* dance with this man,
"You tango? I *really* never pegged you for a dancer.."
As she slipped her hand to his nape with a heart-warming lack of
hesitation, John grinned, starting them moving slowly in a sultry
variation of the dance, pretending away the shiver that snaked through
him at her touch. "I love the *idea*; the feeling, the flow, the
rhythm.. and my aunt Harriet made sure I knew at least the basics when
I was still a little kid. Same time as she insisted I learn at
least one instrument. So now whenever I see a dance that looks
cool, like, say, watching Al Pacino, I take the classes and learn," he
shrugged, avoiding her eyes, "Never really... found the reality
remotely as good as I.. expected, I guess. So I stay off the
floor."
Elizabeth didn't need to read his eyes to understand what he meant;
knew that the mechanics of dancing were a far cry from the emotions
that *could* be in it. It would be safer to leave the subject as
it was... but who tangoed *and* played it safe? "And now?"
Out of respect for her soft tone, John met her equally soft eyes as he
dipped her slowly, gently; knowing she could see his heart as clear as
day, not quite caring enough to hide himself at a moment like
this. "Now; I want to tango. With you."
With her wearing heels, they stood eye to eye, and he was glad again
that he seemed able to be honest with her when she straightened and
nodded with solemn but equally unhidden affection.
Then the magic of the music took away their usual restraint and their
bodies slowly took sway, the rhythm picking up; and picking *them*
up. Grace its full power was allowed to exert as the dancers were
no longer a soldier and a calm diplomat; instead a man and a woman who
had learned to feel music in their bones and muscles. And knew the
*meaning* of this music just as deeply. Even a stiff uniform was
no insurmountable odd with that power at play.
At first they kept the tone light, joking; showing off skill.
Aware of the danger to the status quo that the dance -*this* dance-
represented. But step through step, teasing, seductive
look-and-touch after pseudo-intimate touch, the music dragged them
entirely to its true purpose.
"Jack."
"Umm," Watching Vala weaselling Daniel into dancing, Jack didn't
react to the awed whisper at first. But when Sam dug her elbow
into
his side, he looked at her in surprise, "Wha-" he followed her wide
eyes and stopped with his mouth open.
They both stepped forward to join the growing silent circle of watchers
around the leaders of Atlantis. He wasn't even tempted to laugh
this time, was instead reminded of the only time *he*'d danced like
that; on a bet that he 'could *too*' tango better than Arnold.
So drunk that he and Carter had almost ended up making love on his
couch while Danny and T' were out on the deck.
Looking sadly at the woman standing besides him, he reminded himself
that, unlike back then, he had the ear of the damn president now.
Maybe.. He rested a hand lightly, almost-but-not-quite casually,
on her lower back. Meeting her surprised glance with a silent,
hesitant -long overdue- offer.
He took her sudden smile and small step closer as she went back to
watching the dance as unlooked-for acceptance; and as he straightened a
little more, Jack knew damn well he was grinning like a dope. He
watched the colonel get spun across the floor and figured he owed the
man something now. So he actually tried to work out if he'd
*want* to know his lady had spent hard-earned favours to keep him...
Unaware of the lowly cheering circle that had formed around them, John
and Elizabeth were focused completely on each other as they challenged
and incited; forgetting who they *were* and had to be in the energy of
the dance.
Authority, respect, female, male, teasing and affection; the
foundations of their interaction were given free rein and whirled them
around the dance floor. Around and against each other, closer and
closer. Physical intimacy and touches they would never have
allowed themselves made normal for a moment out of time as their eyes
never let the other go...
"Don't you even *think* of lifting me."
John smirked, not saying a word, eyes locked to hers as they held
each other with stiff formally and took fast, challenging, interleaved
steps across the floor, not thinking of the space's delimitation; now
made up of people.
Teasing and pushing limits was such a part of them that they continued
talking back and forth as their bodies moved in rhythm.
John grinned when Elizabeth shifted her hand in his, taking the lead
from him. He obediently followed her tug and let her spin him and
then pull him close, arms crossed and wrapped around himself,
whispering behind his shoulder, "Taking charge, Dr. Weir?"
She returned the grin unabashedly and they separated, only slowly
getting closer, moving to the music and the leanings of their bodies,
showing off health and limbs; strutting the most intimate of
'stuff'. Another tug, *his* lead this time, and he smoothly
stretched her out over his knee, bending down to whisper in her ear,
"My turn." He pulled back to grin teasingly as they rose, bodies
tightly together, "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?"
"No." Back on her feet, Elizabeth laid her hands on his chest, pushing
him backward as they quickstepped, "But the open mouth and glazed eyes
when you picked me up were a good hint." Her smile was simply
pleased as she said it though, not trying to put him on the spot.
This time.
A spin, a dip and a change of direction. Holding her, chest to
chest, John slowly walked backward as she let her foot drag, making a
clean line with her body. "You aren't supposed to remember that."
On the spot or not, John was blushing that she'd not only noticed his
fumble but brought it up. One of his eyes caught by one of her
long legs, split dress baring it in this position.
He pulled her up and into a spin, then she ran her hands down his
flanks as she lowered herself along his body, eyes locked to his
helplessly darkening ones, her leg stretching out behind her
gracefully. She was too aware of wanting to linger and touch
more; trying to ignore the arousal creeping through her. "Why
not? It was a
lovely complement."
He 'raised' her with a hand under her chin, as though bringing her up
for a kiss, before sending the fingertips trailing along the underside
of her arm as he circled behind her, 'encouraging' her arm up and
behind his head. The heated.. *parted* silk at the top of her hip
teased, but the moist skin it left uncovered was what burned his hand
as he pressed her tightly to him and guided her through a measure of
long mirrored steps.
Hearing a change in the music, he grinned, whispering 'Hang on' before
quickly bending to lift her. Her legs automatically lifted to the form,
scissored along his side, as he did a slow turn before setting her back
down. Then in the last movements of the music, he spun in front
of her, her hand spearing into his hair when he stopped and dropped to
one knee, her high-heeled foot coming to rest firmly on his bended knee.
With the final clash, his damp forehead touched her silk-covered
midriff, his hands on the outside of her thighs, supporting her slight
backward arch, her free arm up in 'victory' pose.
As they blinked, slowly becoming aware of the clapping and whistling
around them, John smiled up at Elizabeth's exhilarated
expression. He whispered breathlessly, mostly to himself, "*That*
is what it's supposed to be like."
Coming down slowly from the high with a sigh of pleasure, Elizabeth put
her foot back on the floor, fighting the slight embarrassment at just
how carried away she'd gotten, a sheen of sweat making her feel a
little too flushed for the location. She very reluctantly took
her hand out of his damp hair, beating back a the wistful pulse of
sensuality, and offered it to him to help him rise, wiping her forehead
with a finger of the other. Ignoring the people around them for
the second it took him to get to his feet. Whispering back just
as
wistfully, "Yes. Yes it is."
Looking around at their grinning audience sheepishly, John lifted her
hand and made a show of kissing the back as she gave a shallow curtsy
and grin in return, and then escorting her off the dance floor, feeling
his damp skin stick to his stiff uniform, adding to the unpleasant
feling of being exposed and in enemy sights.
Elizabeth gently put her arm through his, bumping his hunched shoulder
with hers as they walked, both moving drastically more stiffly than
they had just a few moments ago, "It's alright, John, they might tease
a bit, but it was just a dance."
Uncomfortably aware of still being the centre of attention, John gave
her a sickly imitation of his usual grin. Patting her hand on his
forearm, he replied tensely, "Yeah, I know. You ready to blow
this party?" When she nodded, he grabbed her wrap and purse off
her chair and kept them moving toward the exit, glad no one intercepted
them. It wasn't until they were out of the ballroom and in a
quiet hallway that he finally relaxed and slowed down to a more
leisurely stroll.
Elizabeth tried to jolly him out of the mood, sad to have lost that
shared pleasure, "I don't think I've seen you *that* uncomfortable in a
long time, John Sheppard."
He gave her an abashed glance, warmed by the gentle affection in the
words, "Yeah well, there were a lot of stars in that room. And
those generally aren't friendly things." And they can take you from me
if I'm too stupid...
She squeezed his forearm reassuringly, "I take care of my people too,
John." I'll always protect you.
He shrugged, looking away, "Yeah. But you shouldn't have to waste
your bargaining chips on me. We both know you'll need them for
more important things sooner or later."
Elizabeth tightened her grip on him as she frowned, wishing she could
get her hands on the people that had done the job on his
self-worth. Imagining what Banto stick moves she'd use, she
growled her answer, "That's a matter of opinion." The fact that
he looked at her uncertainly for the tone -or was it the words even?-
only made her sadder. He deserved better. She kept
forgetting that, when they were safely home where he *knew* he was
needed and recognized.
And then the blasted Milky way would interfere and her friend would
lose
his quiet confidence. Oh well. Another two days and they'd
be on their way back. She resolutely shrugged off the black mood;
having her pissed off wouldn't help him.
They walked in silence the rest of the way to the VIP quarters she'd
been assigned, the tension unwinding and leaving them not quite where
they were before the dance. Leaving a glimpse of what a closer
relationship could feel like. Turning at the door she nodded her
head inside with quiet invitation, "You want a drink?" She wanted
to see him relax again.
John nodded, not particularly inclined to see the evening end, now that
it was just two of them, "Yeah, sure."
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