Elizabeth Weir/John Sheppard Appreciation/Ship/Discussion Thread

[Short Angel]

Hello good people. I bring you your daily edition of lolsparks.



Check out the season 1 publicity stills action. It's like retro!Sparky.


ETA: Go vote. Yes, they've gotten to me too. And now I can't stop.

That's great, and so true!!

[justhere1971]

My little contribution to the sparky icon alphabet list: (it's up to G now right?)

[Short Angel]

My little contribution to the sparky icon alphabet list: (it's up to G now right?)

I think. Great icon!!!

[AnnaBee]

Huh. I just found a sig I made a couple of months ago and never uploaded, much less posted...



I rather like it too.

[Ruined_puzzle]

Hello good people. I bring you your daily edition of lolsparks.

http://i123.photobucket.com/albums/o.../chemistry.jpg

Check out the season 1 publicity stills action. It's like retro!Sparky.


ETA: Go vote. Yes, they've gotten to me too. And now I can't stop.

That's awesome. Hee. Also old school sparky is cute, they totally got hotter as they got older.

As of now 10 more points and we win. zomg people vote.

[atlantis_babe34]

Voted! 9 more points

[Irish Eyes]

Since it hasn't been posted in here yet, from JM's blog regarding season 5:

Spoiler:

Marielabbott writes: “When you mention that you will be revisiting Weir’s story onscreen–will we be seeing Torri?”

Answer: That is the plan.

There is light at the end of the tunnel!

[atlantis_babe34]

Sparky lives!.. well it always lived, its just living better

[Ruined_puzzle]

My interest in watching s5 went up 1%, lol. Hey it's better than before when it was 0%. I need confirmation on the number and than we'll see.

[Celcool]

Since it hasn't been posted in here yet, from JM's blog regarding season 5:

Spoiler:

Marielabbott writes: “When you mention that you will be revisiting Weir’s story onscreen–will we be seeing Torri?”

Answer: That is the plan.

There is light at the end of the tunnel!

How about more than 4 episodes this time?

Someone reported from the con that Torri said that we'll probably know before her if she's coming back and it seems she was right. Someone (like TPTB) should tell her!

OMG Sparky is so close to winning, go vote!

[mcat]

According to JM's blog, the news about season 5 will be released this coming Monday. They're waiting for "one final piece of the puzzle"... So I guess either way, we'll know for sure at that point.

Also, for those of you who read the series, a new Renfic is up.

[Scary Kitty]

Hello good people. I bring you your daily edition of lolsparks.

http://i123.photobucket.com/albums/o.../chemistry.jpg

Check out the season 1 publicity stills action. It's like retro!Sparky.

Ohhh yeah, they so has it. *licks* Retro = made of win.

According to JM's blog, the news about season 5 will be released this coming Monday. They're waiting for "one final piece of the puzzle"... So I guess either way, we'll know for sure at that point.

'Bout damn time. Between that and the forum's temporary outage earlier today, the suspense has been killing me!

Also, for those of you who read the series, a new Renfic is up.

RENFIC!!! *shrieks and runs to LJ*

[atlantis_babe34]

Weeee! GW is back up!!!

OT:

Spoiler:

I got my p's im super excited now!

[borgprincess]

OT:

Spoiler:

I got my p's im super excited now!

OT:

Spoiler:

Yay, congrats! Too bad GW was down when you needed moral support before it, but you got through it anyway! I'm too scared/lazy to get mine, lol

Ack, can't wait til Monday. I need confirmation really badly. LIKE NOW.

Hey, I came across an awesome Sparky fic a while back, and, genius that I am, forgot to save the link to it...I really love this story, so if anyone knows where to find the site, please let me know?

Spoiler:

When General O’Neill had first mentioned the idea to Cameron, the colonel thought it was absurd. The Atlantis Expedition had been in the Pegasus Galaxy for four years and, aside from their first trip home after the Wraith siege, had never been called back en masse for a simple meeting. The whole concept seemed a little off. Why bring them all to Earth? Why not conference through the Stargate?

It’s only now, as he sits across the booth from a clearly buzzed Major Lorne, that he begins to understand.

The bell above the front door jingles when Elizabeth enters, eyes bright and her cheeks flushed from the cold. She smiles and shakes her head, causing snowflakes to drift lightly to the floor. Colonel Sheppard is close behind her, stomping his boots to knock loose the collected snow. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” floats tinnily from the speakers in the corner and blends with the din of patrons’ conversations, but Cameron can still clearly hear Sheppard’s laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair and removes his scarf, then reaches to help Elizabeth out of her jacket and hang it on the stand beside them. He turns back to her then and brushes his thumb across her cheek to remove an errant snowflake. She smiles, bringing her own hand up to her face, unconsciously lingering where Sheppard had touched her.

Cameron smiles to himself and lets his gaze sweep further across the room. He sees Sam propped against the red and silver tinsel-lined bar, her chin resting on her hand and her body language projecting a curious combination of boredom laced with annoyance. Beside her a slightly balding man is perched on a barstool, eyes glassy and his puffy cheeks pink from alcohol as he leans into her space to speak in animated tones about something that requires excessive gesticulation. The bartender appears and Sam’s shoulders slump in relief when he hands her a drink, upon receipt of which she makes her escape, pivoting to fall into step with Elizabeth as she approaches their booth. Elizabeth stops at the adjacent table, her smile wide as she exchanges pleasantries with someone who must be an old acquaintance.

“Thanks for the heroic rescue, Cam,” Sam drawls sarcastically as she slips in next to him.

He waives her off. “Like you couldn’t kick his middle-aged ass to next Tuesday.”

“Wednesday. But I wouldn’t.” She takes a deliberate sip of beer. “I’m a lady.”

“Only in the loosest sense of the word,” he returns easily, earning a slap on the arm.

“So,” Elizabeth asks when she finally reaches their table, “is this a Christmas Eve tradition for you?” She scans her surroundings as she slides into the booth beside Lorne. “Endless rounds of beer in a somewhat shady bar?”

“I’ve only had two.” Cameron lifts his bottle and swirls the dregs of his second. “That hardly qualifies as ‘endless.’”

“The night is still young,” Sheppard supplies as he approaches, a pint in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. He deposits the wine in front of Elizabeth before dragging a chair from a nearby table and pulling it up to the end of their booth.

“John, I didn’t –” she protests.

“You wanted to,” he counters.

She smiles and allows herself to be convinced. “I guess I did.”

“If you’re going to spend Christmas Eve in a bar, you’re going to drink,” Lorne points out. “In fact, considering that this means our social lives are even more pathetic than McKay’s – you’re not going to stop at mere drinking. You’re pretty much obligated to get drunk.”

“Here, here.” Sam lifts her glass and clinks it against Lorne’s.

Cameron rolls his eyes and heaves a giant sigh. “Jesus would be so proud.”

Lorne shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“That’s a good motto, Major,” Sheppard says between sips. “I’m thinking you should get that tattooed somewhere on your person.”

Lorne looks at his commanding officer hopefully. “Really?”

Elizabeth shoots Sheppard a warning glare before turning to Lorne with a disapproving frown. “Perhaps you should embroider it on a pillow instead.”

Cameron laughs at the trio before shifting his gaze from one to the other. “So, what do you miss most?”

The question is aimed at all three expedition members, but Sheppard is the first to answer. “Beer,” he states without hesitation. “And football.”

“That’s it?” Elizabeth asks in mock-surprise. “Not your Lazyboy and pork rinds too?”

“Oh and I suppose you miss something grand like, hmm,” he places a hand on her shoulder and closes his eyes as if drawing the information from her, “your monthly volunteer sessions at the Humane Society.”

She bats at his hand and scowls threateningly.

“Watching Oprah?” Lorne guesses.

“Chocolate and shopping,” Cameron declares with conviction, but Elizabeth only rolls her eyes. He tries again. “Starbucks?”

“Wait,” Sam holds up a hand and leans forward, “they don’t have a Starbucks there?”

The table erupts in to laughter and Lorne shakes his head. “Not yet, but I’m sure they have plans.”

It’s only a few minutes later, when Elizabeth begins to hum softly, that Cameron realizes the music has changed.

Sheppard notices as well. Bing Crosby’s voice almost drowns out Elizabeth’s own low melody, but Sheppard is watching her so intently that Cameron imagines he doesn’t even hear the old crooner. Curiosity pinching the corners of John’s eyes, he says softly, “Elizabeth, I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you hum before.”

She flashes him a smile, almost shy but at the same time not at all. “Sometimes I can’t help it.” She shrugs and drops her head to lean back against the wooden booth. “I like this song.”

“I know.” His smile is slow and warm. “That’s why I put it on.”

She can’t hide her surprise. “You remembered?”

His tone is the equivalent of a bashful shrug. “It was a quarter well spent if it got you humming.” He scoots his chair back and rises, holding out his hand, palm up. “Dance with me?”

Her smile grows into a wide grin and she drops her hand into his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He doesn’t release his hold as he leads her to a clearing between some empty tables. Sheppard says something Cameron can’t hear and Elizabeth laughs as he pulls her close, dropping his free hand to her waist.

“How long have they been together?” Cameron asks the major, shifting his attention back to the table.

“The colonel and Dr. Weir?” Lorne shakes his head. “They’re not.”

Cameron looks again to the makeshift dance floor and sees that Elizabeth’s head has come to rest on Sheppard’s shoulder, his hands clasped loosely together on the small of her back. “Seriously?”

Lorne nods.

Sam reaches for a pretzel and breaks it in half. “I give it three months,” she says before popping the larger piece in her mouth.

“Until they start dating?” Cameron clarifies and Sam nods. “I give it three hours. Look at him. He’s like a smitten puppy.”

Sam tosses her remaining pretzel at him and Lorne laughs outright before leaning into the table conspiratorially. “You haven’t seen anything,” he confides.

Cameron feels as though that’s up for dispute. He’d definitely argue that he’s seeing something right now. “What, you mean it gets worse?”

Lorne takes another pull of his beer. “Much. Let's see,” he begins to tick points off with his fingers, “Sheppard brings her tea in the middle of the day, picks up artisan crafts for her when he’s off world, pretends not to like his dessert so she can have two – but only when it's her favorite...” He releases a heavy sigh and drums his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “Actually it would all be very endearing if I wasn't forced to listen to an hour long speech every time I’m her escort for negotiations. I mean, I get it... don’t let anything happen to her.”

“So why the hell doesn’t he make a move?”

“My best guess? He doesn't know that he's already head over heels for her. Poor sap.”

Cameron mulls that over for a moment. Something could probably be done to remedy the situation, assuming that it’s handled by one skilled in the devious art of manipulation. He grins to himself. He didn’t get either of them a Christmas present, so really, this would be the least he could do. “So our boy needs an epiphany, huh?”

Lorne smiles, the gleam in his eye matching Cameron’s. “Yes, sir.”

The song ends and a new one begins. Sheppard releases Elizabeth reluctantly, nodding as she makes her way to the back of the bar, and returns to the booth by himself. “Elizabeth had to make a phone call,” he explains.

It’s almost too easy. “Boyfriend?” Cameron guesses in a deceptively bland tone – just to gauge his reaction.

Sheppard’s response is immediate, his face flashing from surprise to concern. “No,” he answers quickly. “No I don’t think so.”

“Really,” Cameron runs his finger over his chin thoughtfully, “you’d think someone as beautiful as Dr. Weir would be taken.”

“It’s not for lack of options,” Lorne supplies helpfully. “There are plenty of men on Atlantis who are very much interested in the good doctor.”

Sheppard’s fingers clench around the base of his beer and Cameron bites back a grin. “Like who?”

Lorne shrugs casually. “It’d be easier to ask who wasn’t.” Cameron makes a mental note to include the major’s name on the Christmas card. With a show this well oiled, maybe they could go into business.

“An entire expedition pining over one woman and not a single one has the guts to make a move?” Sam scrunches her face in disapproval. “That’s pathetic.”

Cameron leans forward on his elbows, ignoring Sheppard completely. “What about you, Lorne? You seem like a guy who gets what he wants. Afraid of a little rejection?”

The major smiles devilishly. “No, sir,” he answers, sliding out of the booth just as Elizabeth returns to the table.

“Going somewhere, Major?” she asks.

“Well, that all depends on you, ma’am,” Lorne lays on the charm. At Elizabeth’s questioning eyebrow he continues, “May I have this dance?”

She answers in the affirmative and allows Lorne to escort her across the bar, his hand dropping to the small of her back as he guides her between tables.
Cameron watches Sheppard as his eyes follow the pair. When he cranes his neck around to get a better look, Cameron has to smother his grin.

“Looks like Elizabeth found an admirer,” Cameron’s voice is mild as he nods across the bar, but he cuts a knowing look at the man beside him. “So, why’d you let him do it?”

Sheppard barely manages to tear his eyes away and has trouble focusing on the question. “What?”

Cameron inclines his head toward the dance floor where Elizabeth is dropping her hand into Lorne’s. “Why’d you let him snag your girl?” he repeats.

“She’s not my girl.”

Sam snorts an eloquent opinion on that sentiment.

“What? She’s not,” he protests quickly. “We’re just friends.”

“And I’m a four-star general.”

Elizabeth’s laughter cuts through the music and when Sheppard’s eyes dart to her Cameron stomps on his foot. “Don’t look,” he admonishes. “Play it a little closer to the vest, man. You can let ‘em sweat it out a little. No wonder you're having trouble keeping her interested.”

“What? I’m not having trouble...” Suddenly realizing that he’s only digging himself a hole from which there is no safe escape, he squirms and executes a strategic retreat. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

*cut for length*

[atlantis_babe34]

OT:

Spoiler:

Yay, congrats! Too bad GW was down when you needed moral support before it, but you got through it anyway! I'm too scared/lazy to get mine, lol

Ack, can't wait til Monday. I need confirmation really badly. LIKE NOW.

Hey, I came across an awesome Sparky fic a while back, and, genius that I am, forgot to save the link to it...I really love this story, so if anyone knows where to find the site, please let me know?

Spoiler:

When General O’Neill had first mentioned the idea to Cameron, the colonel thought it was absurd. The Atlantis Expedition had been in the Pegasus Galaxy for four years and, aside from their first trip home after the Wraith siege, had never been called back en masse for a simple meeting. The whole concept seemed a little off. Why bring them all to Earth? Why not conference through the Stargate?

It’s only now, as he sits across the booth from a clearly buzzed Major Lorne, that he begins to understand.

The bell above the front door jingles when Elizabeth enters, eyes bright and her cheeks flushed from the cold. She smiles and shakes her head, causing snowflakes to drift lightly to the floor. Colonel Sheppard is close behind her, stomping his boots to knock loose the collected snow. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” floats tinnily from the speakers in the corner and blends with the din of patrons’ conversations, but Cameron can still clearly hear Sheppard’s laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair and removes his scarf, then reaches to help Elizabeth out of her jacket and hang it on the stand beside them. He turns back to her then and brushes his thumb across her cheek to remove an errant snowflake. She smiles, bringing her own hand up to her face, unconsciously lingering where Sheppard had touched her.

Cameron smiles to himself and lets his gaze sweep further across the room. He sees Sam propped against the red and silver tinsel-lined bar, her chin resting on her hand and her body language projecting a curious combination of boredom laced with annoyance. Beside her a slightly balding man is perched on a barstool, eyes glassy and his puffy cheeks pink from alcohol as he leans into her space to speak in animated tones about something that requires excessive gesticulation. The bartender appears and Sam’s shoulders slump in relief when he hands her a drink, upon receipt of which she makes her escape, pivoting to fall into step with Elizabeth as she approaches their booth. Elizabeth stops at the adjacent table, her smile wide as she exchanges pleasantries with someone who must be an old acquaintance.

“Thanks for the heroic rescue, Cam,” Sam drawls sarcastically as she slips in next to him.

He waives her off. “Like you couldn’t kick his middle-aged ass to next Tuesday.”

“Wednesday. But I wouldn’t.” She takes a deliberate sip of beer. “I’m a lady.”

“Only in the loosest sense of the word,” he returns easily, earning a slap on the arm.

“So,” Elizabeth asks when she finally reaches their table, “is this a Christmas Eve tradition for you?” She scans her surroundings as she slides into the booth beside Lorne. “Endless rounds of beer in a somewhat shady bar?”

“I’ve only had two.” Cameron lifts his bottle and swirls the dregs of his second. “That hardly qualifies as ‘endless.’”

“The night is still young,” Sheppard supplies as he approaches, a pint in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. He deposits the wine in front of Elizabeth before dragging a chair from a nearby table and pulling it up to the end of their booth.

“John, I didn’t –” she protests.

“You wanted to,” he counters.

She smiles and allows herself to be convinced. “I guess I did.”

“If you’re going to spend Christmas Eve in a bar, you’re going to drink,” Lorne points out. “In fact, considering that this means our social lives are even more pathetic than McKay’s – you’re not going to stop at mere drinking. You’re pretty much obligated to get drunk.”

“Here, here.” Sam lifts her glass and clinks it against Lorne’s.

Cameron rolls his eyes and heaves a giant sigh. “Jesus would be so proud.”

Lorne shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“That’s a good motto, Major,” Sheppard says between sips. “I’m thinking you should get that tattooed somewhere on your person.”

Lorne looks at his commanding officer hopefully. “Really?”

Elizabeth shoots Sheppard a warning glare before turning to Lorne with a disapproving frown. “Perhaps you should embroider it on a pillow instead.”

Cameron laughs at the trio before shifting his gaze from one to the other. “So, what do you miss most?”

The question is aimed at all three expedition members, but Sheppard is the first to answer. “Beer,” he states without hesitation. “And football.”

“That’s it?” Elizabeth asks in mock-surprise. “Not your Lazyboy and pork rinds too?”

“Oh and I suppose you miss something grand like, hmm,” he places a hand on her shoulder and closes his eyes as if drawing the information from her, “your monthly volunteer sessions at the Humane Society.”

She bats at his hand and scowls threateningly.

“Watching Oprah?” Lorne guesses.

“Chocolate and shopping,” Cameron declares with conviction, but Elizabeth only rolls her eyes. He tries again. “Starbucks?”

“Wait,” Sam holds up a hand and leans forward, “they don’t have a Starbucks there?”

The table erupts in to laughter and Lorne shakes his head. “Not yet, but I’m sure they have plans.”

It’s only a few minutes later, when Elizabeth begins to hum softly, that Cameron realizes the music has changed.

Sheppard notices as well. Bing Crosby’s voice almost drowns out Elizabeth’s own low melody, but Sheppard is watching her so intently that Cameron imagines he doesn’t even hear the old crooner. Curiosity pinching the corners of John’s eyes, he says softly, “Elizabeth, I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you hum before.”

She flashes him a smile, almost shy but at the same time not at all. “Sometimes I can’t help it.” She shrugs and drops her head to lean back against the wooden booth. “I like this song.”

“I know.” His smile is slow and warm. “That’s why I put it on.”

She can’t hide her surprise. “You remembered?”

His tone is the equivalent of a bashful shrug. “It was a quarter well spent if it got you humming.” He scoots his chair back and rises, holding out his hand, palm up. “Dance with me?”

Her smile grows into a wide grin and she drops her hand into his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He doesn’t release his hold as he leads her to a clearing between some empty tables. Sheppard says something Cameron can’t hear and Elizabeth laughs as he pulls her close, dropping his free hand to her waist.

“How long have they been together?” Cameron asks the major, shifting his attention back to the table.

“The colonel and Dr. Weir?” Lorne shakes his head. “They’re not.”

Cameron looks again to the makeshift dance floor and sees that Elizabeth’s head has come to rest on Sheppard’s shoulder, his hands clasped loosely together on the small of her back. “Seriously?”

Lorne nods.

Sam reaches for a pretzel and breaks it in half. “I give it three months,” she says before popping the larger piece in her mouth.

“Until they start dating?” Cameron clarifies and Sam nods. “I give it three hours. Look at him. He’s like a smitten puppy.”

Sam tosses her remaining pretzel at him and Lorne laughs outright before leaning into the table conspiratorially. “You haven’t seen anything,” he confides.

Cameron feels as though that’s up for dispute. He’d definitely argue that he’s seeing something right now. “What, you mean it gets worse?”

Lorne takes another pull of his beer. “Much. Let's see,” he begins to tick points off with his fingers, “Sheppard brings her tea in the middle of the day, picks up artisan crafts for her when he’s off world, pretends not to like his dessert so she can have two – but only when it's her favorite...” He releases a heavy sigh and drums his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “Actually it would all be very endearing if I wasn't forced to listen to an hour long speech every time I’m her escort for negotiations. I mean, I get it... don’t let anything happen to her.”

“So why the hell doesn’t he make a move?”

“My best guess? He doesn't know that he's already head over heels for her. Poor sap.”

Cameron mulls that over for a moment. Something could probably be done to remedy the situation, assuming that it’s handled by one skilled in the devious art of manipulation. He grins to himself. He didn’t get either of them a Christmas present, so really, this would be the least he could do. “So our boy needs an epiphany, huh?”

Lorne smiles, the gleam in his eye matching Cameron’s. “Yes, sir.”

The song ends and a new one begins. Sheppard releases Elizabeth reluctantly, nodding as she makes her way to the back of the bar, and returns to the booth by himself. “Elizabeth had to make a phone call,” he explains.

It’s almost too easy. “Boyfriend?” Cameron guesses in a deceptively bland tone – just to gauge his reaction.

Sheppard’s response is immediate, his face flashing from surprise to concern. “No,” he answers quickly. “No I don’t think so.”

“Really,” Cameron runs his finger over his chin thoughtfully, “you’d think someone as beautiful as Dr. Weir would be taken.”

“It’s not for lack of options,” Lorne supplies helpfully. “There are plenty of men on Atlantis who are very much interested in the good doctor.”

Sheppard’s fingers clench around the base of his beer and Cameron bites back a grin. “Like who?”

Lorne shrugs casually. “It’d be easier to ask who wasn’t.” Cameron makes a mental note to include the major’s name on the Christmas card. With a show this well oiled, maybe they could go into business.

“An entire expedition pining over one woman and not a single one has the guts to make a move?” Sam scrunches her face in disapproval. “That’s pathetic.”

Cameron leans forward on his elbows, ignoring Sheppard completely. “What about you, Lorne? You seem like a guy who gets what he wants. Afraid of a little rejection?”

The major smiles devilishly. “No, sir,” he answers, sliding out of the booth just as Elizabeth returns to the table.

“Going somewhere, Major?” she asks.

“Well, that all depends on you, ma’am,” Lorne lays on the charm. At Elizabeth’s questioning eyebrow he continues, “May I have this dance?”

She answers in the affirmative and allows Lorne to escort her across the bar, his hand dropping to the small of her back as he guides her between tables.
Cameron watches Sheppard as his eyes follow the pair. When he cranes his neck around to get a better look, Cameron has to smother his grin.

“Looks like Elizabeth found an admirer,” Cameron’s voice is mild as he nods across the bar, but he cuts a knowing look at the man beside him. “So, why’d you let him do it?”

Sheppard barely manages to tear his eyes away and has trouble focusing on the question. “What?”

Cameron inclines his head toward the dance floor where Elizabeth is dropping her hand into Lorne’s. “Why’d you let him snag your girl?” he repeats.

“She’s not my girl.”

Sam snorts an eloquent opinion on that sentiment.

“What? She’s not,” he protests quickly. “We’re just friends.”

“And I’m a four-star general.”

Elizabeth’s laughter cuts through the music and when Sheppard’s eyes dart to her Cameron stomps on his foot. “Don’t look,” he admonishes. “Play it a little closer to the vest, man. You can let ‘em sweat it out a little. No wonder you're having trouble keeping her interested.”

“What? I’m not having trouble...” Suddenly realizing that he’s only digging himself a hole from which there is no safe escape, he squirms and executes a strategic retreat. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

*cut for length*

Thankies:d i was so nervous but it totally aced it

That fic is great!