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"'You bent my Wookie,'" Elizabeth quoted along with the DVD, doing a passable Ralph Wiggum, and John grinned; after more than a year of knowing her she could still surprise him.
"Never would have pegged you for a Simpsons fan," he told her, amused when she buried her face in his shoulder to stifle a laugh. Sometime over the course of the evening, which had started out with a roomful of people but which now involved only him and Elizabeth, she'd moved so she was sitting flush against his side and had looped an arm through his, occasionally resting her head against his shoulder. At times she'd been acting downright silly -- a word he never would have thought to use to describe Dr. Elizabeth Weir, head of the Atlantis expedition -- and if he didn't know better he would have thought she was drunk. As it was, he knew for a fact that all she'd had all night was the Pegasus galaxy's version of chocolate and coffee.
"It's actually a pre-requisite for running Stargate Command," she informed him with a perfectly serious expression. "It's a well-known fact that Jack O'Neill is a Simpsons fanatic, but not many people know that George Hammond can identify any episode by a single line from any character."
He eyed her carefully, trying to determine if she was telling the truth or pulling his leg, but then ultimately decided it didn't matter -- he had no way to verify what she was telling him anyhow. It wasn't like that sort of information had been brought along with them to Atlantis, and he couldn't exactly call up General Hammond and ask.
"Another episode?" he asked instead as the end credits began to roll. He hoped he could talk her into watching a Treehouse of Horror episode -- the Hallowe'en ones were all classics -- but to his disappointment she shook her head.
"I think it's time for me to turn in. I've got a briefing at 0630."
John raised an eyebrow, wondering if she realized that she had started using military time since she'd been living on Atlantis. "McKay?" he asked, knowing the scientist had been pushing for a meeting with Elizabeth over lab allocation time; apparently, Rodney thought he wasn't getting the time he felt his experiments deserved.
She smiled. "Do you really think Rodney would schedule a meeting that early? The only time he's up before 0900 is if he never went to bed the night before."
John couldn't disagree with that; McKay was definitely not a morning person. He'd had the misfortune of trying to wake the man for the early morning watch more than once.
"The Athosians are coming in from the mainland; the planting season began a little over a month ago and they want to update me on their projected yield and who we might be able to trade with to supplement what we're unable to grow ourselves."
"Fascinating," John drawled, getting to his feet, and Elizabeth shot him a look.
"Necessary," she countered. "You know, now that I think about it maybe you should be there, since we'll be discussing possible off-world missions...."
"You wouldn't." Just the thought of sitting through an agricultural meeting him was making him feel restless.
She raised both eyebrows. "Try me."
John knew she had an evil streak, though fortunately it was rarely aimed at him, and decided not to push his luck. He held out a hand. "Ready to go?"
The look Elizabeth gave him let John know that she knew precisely what he was doing and that she was only letting him get away with it because she was tired. But she said nothing, only taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet, where she closed her eyes and swayed.
John was quick to steady her with an arm around her waist. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she muttered, leaning into him for a brief moment before straightening. She laughed. "I can drink my brothers under the table but not enough sleep and too much sugar will do me in every time."
John filed that information away for future use as he turned off the TV, DVD player, and the lights, and followed Elizabeth towards Atlantis' living quarters. She stumbled slightly going up a flight of stairs and he used that as an excuse to put his hands on her hips, to "steady" her, liking the feel of her muscles moving beneath his hands.
Her room was closer and they paused outside her door, Elizabeth turning to face him and forcing him to drop his hands from her waist. Then they were looking at each other, staring really, and things were unexpectedly awkward. And yet not.
Without quite meaning to, John found himself reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. And then, instead of withdrawing his hand as he knew he should, he rested the tips of his fingers against her cheek.
An image came to him, unbidden, of Elizabeth rising up beneath him; and John jerked slightly and started to flush as he realized he'd been staring at her lips. Hesitantly he raised his eyes to hers, hoping her fatigue had kept her from noticing where his attention had wandered.
To his embarrassment she was watching him rather intently, but the rambling excuse that was poised to slip self-consciously off his tongue was stayed when he realized just *how* she was looking at him. Gone was the relaxed, easy-going woman who had been his companion for most of the night. Elizabeth's head was tilted slightly as she gave him a considering look, her features now utterly serious; she looked as though she were contemplating a new puzzle that had been set before her.
John held perfectly still, practically afraid to breathe for fear he'd do something to break whatever spell they seemed to be under. There was something in the way she was looking at him...
Elizabeth moved first; almost as if in slow motion she reached up to touch his cheek in much the same matter as he was still touching hers. After a moment she moved to lightly grasp his wrist. He didn't take his eyes off her face.
Long minutes later she smiled, a slow, lazy half-smile that did strange things to his insides, and lowered her arm, letting her fingers trail across the palm of his hand before it came to rest at her side, and then she nodded once. She hit the door release and took a step back, concealing herself in semi-darkness. "Good night, John." And then the door closed and she was gone.
John stared at her door, not quite sure what the hell had just happened. Eventually, however, he turned to leave. "Good night, Elizabeth," he said to the empty hallway, and wondered how much sleep he'd be getting that night.
--end--