Elizabeth Weir/John Sheppard Appreciation/Ship/Discussion Thread

[Anuna]

I come bearing Sparkalicious Happy Family ficlet FLUFF.

Tea Party

Spoiler:

Tea Party

The classical music floating out of her room should have clued him in.

But of course, he’d not thought about it, which had resulted in the dilemma he was now facing—join the fun, or disappear and play the part of an inattentive, unfeeling father.

Elizabeth watched him with a coy smile from her position at the table. A large, floppy hat sat perched on her head, slightly askew.

“Come on, Dad!” Emma piped, pointing at the seat to her left.

“Yes, come on, Dad,” Elizabeth echoed, plopping her chin in her hand, her grin growing. “Join the fun.”

He smiled uncomfortably. “Uh, tea parties aren’t really my thing.”

Emma’s face crumpled into a pout, her crown-thing slipping forward onto her forehead. She shoved that and the mass of black curls that fell with it up with her hand. “Says who?”

“Says the Air Force.”

“Really? I didn’t think they had rules on tea party attendance,” Elizabeth murmured, still smiling. He shot her a displeased looked, which she returned with a raised eyebrow.

If I have to do this, so do you.

“Five minutes,” he said, scooting the chair out. He felt incredibly awkward, but Emma’s happy smile was enough to make him forget, for a moment, the absurdity of the Commander of the Atlantis military force and Atlantis’s Head of Diplomatic relations squeezed into the tiny frame of a four-year-old’s tea table.

He drew the line at pink feather boas, however, and he said as much when Emma reached into her dress-up chest and pulled it out. She pouted, but even she knew when asking too much was asking too much.

“Okay, then,” she slid back from the table, her little Athosian gown drifting around her like a cloud. “You can wear this.”

She came back with a strange looking mask, white-faced with long white hair. He picked up, holding it awkwardly. “What’s this?”

“Torren and I use it for wraith-not wraith.”

Elizabeth’s smile disappeared. “You play wraith-not wraith?”

So did John’s. “You play with Torren?”

“When Teyla brings him,” she said innocently, reaching for her teapot. “Or Kanaan.”

“Emma…”

“So,” she continued, ignoring Elizabeth’s semi-chastising tone and looking up at them with a smile. “Mommy’s a Lantean and I’m an Athosian warrior leader, and we’re having tea.”

“Okay,” he glanced over at her, still holding up the mask. “And what am I?”

“You,” she looked at him, her eyes narrowing, “are the Wraith who is going to try to attack us. Until I kill you with my laser gun.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, turning to him in shock.

John choked, clearing his throat. “What?”

“We’ll call you Tony.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Elizabeth suddenly chirped. “Bedtime!”

“What? Why? It’s early!”

“It’s not that early. And after we brush your teeth, we’ll have a little talk on why we don’t go around killing—or even pretend-killing—Wraith.”

“Especially at tea parties,” John echoed, scooping her up in his arms. “Bad form.”

“Not helping,” Elizabeth said, removing her hat.

He smiled. “Well, ladies, this was fun while it lasted.”

Emma held on to him for a minute. “Will you come to the next one?”

“Maybe…what kind of tea are we having?”

“Athosian red-leaf brew. It’s the tea ceremony…” she lowered her head, staring him in the eyes, “for the dead.”

He glanced over at Elizabeth slowly, who closed her eyes and raised a hand to her forehead.

“All right, that’s does it. No more tea parties with Teyla and Ronon for you.”

*snorts coffee through nose*

Isn't she a little bit too much like her dad? I'd say yes. I loved this!!

[Anuna]

Okay, homework done. It could probably use some more editing but I don't have much time this weekend and wanted to get it turned in. It's the scenes from Conversion when John finds the wound on his arm and then the scene in the infirmary that follows.

Spoiler:

John Sheppard walked briskly into his quarters stripping off his jacket as he went. He tossed the inside out garment on his bed as he sat down and removed his earpiece. John halted in mid action as something on the inside of his arm caught his eye. The area where the young Wraith girl had injured him now contained a scabby wound. He poked it with a finger and found it not sensitive to the touch but rough and scaly.

Puzzled and slightly alarmed, John reinserted his earpiece. “Hey doc, this is Sheppard,” he said, his brow creased with deep furrows.

“Yes, Colonel.” Carson Beckett's voice came over the radio.

John looked back down at the large dark area on his arm. “We may have to bump up our first check in.”

John licked his lips and took a deep breath to steady himself.

--\--

John lay quietly on the infirmary bed as Carson and the med tech consulted over the scanner. The med tech moved the screen out of the way and Carson walked over to talk to Elizabeth who was waiting worriedly in the corner. She had been chewing unconsciously on a nail, concern for her military commander evident in her posture.

“The retrovirus isn't breaking down in his system like we hoped it would,” Carson explained.

“You're positive?” Elizabeth asked as she turned to observe John.

“Yes,” Carson nodded briskly and he too looked over at John. “in fact it's beginning to alter his DNA,” Carson's voice was quiet and shaky with his own concern. “If it's allowed to continue, he'll devolve into a creature similar to what Ellia became.”

Elizabeth huffed out a breath of disbelief as Carson brushed past her and seated himself at his small desk. Clearly shocked and needing more information, Elizabeth leaned closer to Carson and lowered her voice. “How long do we have?” she asked.

“I'm not sure exactly,” Carson shook his head in uncertainty.

Not willing to accept such a vague answer, Elizabeth spoke briskly, “Ballpark. Months, weeks?”

“Days, we have days,” Carson answered with a sympathetic look.

Elizabeth looked back over at John. Her fear was evident on her face as she realized how desperate the situation was becoming. Abruptly, she leaned still closer to Carson and said in a loud whisper, “Okay, what's the plan?”

Carson looked over toward his patient and then back at Elizabeth. “I've injected him with a viral inhibitor. It should slow down the retrovirus as far as his cognitive abilities are concerned. But I'm afraid that's it so far. We're exploring various treatments that may or may not be effective so...”

Elizabeth shook her head emphatically and interrupted. “No, Carson, we don't have any time to explore. Come on there's gotta be something in the Ancient database that can help you find a treatment.”

“I know that Elizabeth. We're doing our best,” Carson replied, his own face reflecting his worry and feelings of helplessness.

Elizabeth straightened, ashamed of her own doubt that the medical staff wasn't moving heaven and earth to find a solution to Sheppard's situation. She folded her arms and rubbed them briskly as both she and Carson turned toward John who was still lying quietly.

“You should talk to him,” Carson said, “He's hiding it very well, but if I was him, I'd be scared to death.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth as if to speak and glanced back at John who suddenly sat up on the bed and turned his head in their direction. Elizabeth uncrossed her arms and stood looking uncertain.

“How'm I doin'?” John asked.

Elizabeth gave Carson a frantic glance, hoping for more time to prepare what she would say to John. Carson gave her an encouraging nod and she moved in John's direction, managing a slight smile as she approached his bedside. When she didn't speak, John frowned and looked her up and down.

“Anything that has you speechless has me concerned.” His voice was questioning and didn't waver but the underlying tension was evident.

“You're gonna be fine.” Elizabeth nodded and tried to look positive.

“Wow,” John continued, “that's dead man talk.” His eyes held hers, refusing to let her look away.

Elizabeth shook her head. “No it isn't.”

John held out his arm for her to see. “Have you seen this?”

“Beckett is gonna figure this one out.” Elizabeth tried to reassure him.

“I think I already have,” John said, licking his lips and glancing around to see if anyone else was within earshot. “You know who I'm starting to feel like?”

Elizabeth shook her head and John continued, “Ford.”

“Now what happened to you is completely different.” Elizabeth answered a bit too quickly.

“I know, I know,” John replied, glancing away and then back at her. “Still, I can feel it. I mean I can feel it changing me inside like he did.”

Elizabeth continued to study John, trying to absorb what he was confiding in her and hoping for the right words to reassure him. “I don't think that's even possible,” she managed but the worried look was back on her face. “Look, you're very worried.” She began, but John interrupted to explain further.

“No, no.” He gave her a crooked smile and glanced aside, “It's...uh..” He shook his head from side to side, trying to think of a way to explain how he was feeling. Thinking of an example, John continued, “One of the best weeks of my life was when I got my wisdom teeth out. I was on codeine for a full seven days. This is kinda the same. I know I should be in pain...” John paused for a breath. “Or at the very least freaked out by this, and I'm not.” He lifted both eyebrows as if surprised at his own words. “And that freaks me out more than anything.”

When he wound down, Elizabeth tried to sound confident. “We're gonna beat this,” she said, but John wasn't so sure.

In a questioning voice he repeated, “We're gonna beat this? Beckett will figure this out? You're gonna be fine? You really suck at the whole bedside manner thing.”

Elizabeth winced in sympathy knowing that her words had been inadequate. She looked down and away, refusing to meet John's eyes. “I know, I'm sorry.” She shook her head in embarrassment.

Realizing her discomfort, John tried to reassure her. “But I appreciate the effort,” he said as he glanced back at her with a concerned look.

Oooooh, that was VERY GOOD. I loved it! It's one of my favorite scenes which shows why sparky dynamic is so fascinating.

On my own homework, I hope I'll have it done today. I picked my favorite scenes from Quarantine. Am I up to something naughty? Only if taking canon into account, instead of blatantly ignoring it is considered naughty

[Anuna]

Here's my homework! From Act Two of Hot Zone:

Spoiler:

In the Atlantis infirmary, Teyla zipped up her hazmat suit and started putting on her gloves. Behind her, John walked around a table to set down his helmet, and started tugging on his own gloves. As he did so, Teyla eyed him speculatively and let out a breath, annoyed at Sheppard’s silence. “You should not have undermined Doctor Weir’s authority in front of Sergeant Bates.”

John half-turned to her, surprised at her irritation. It wasn’t like this was some sort of military versus civilian issue. If both Bates and McKay could see the danger and agree that they needed to stop Peterson sooner rather than later, then surely Teyla could also see the bigger picture.

“Sometimes Elizabeth makes a decision early on and gets locked into it. That’s a problem.” There was more to it than that. Elizabeth’s idealism and belief in the good in everyone was very noble, yet there were times, like now, when her feelings could veer into the territory of being dangerously naïve. He only hoped the delay in ending this situation didn’t result in anyone else getting hurt, or worse. If Elizabeth didn’t like the idea of them going out to stop Peterson with guns drawn now, John had no doubt that she really wouldn’t like what could happen if Peterson wasn’t stopped.

Teyla picked up her helmet and turned to face him, giving him a cool stare right back. What was that Earth saying that Aiden had told her some time ago? Something about a pot? The sentiment was true enough, though. Her new friends were certainly more alike than they might want to admit. She frowned, telling John matter-of-factly, “She is not the only one who suffers from that affliction.”

John stared at her for a moment while she put on her helmet, and activated his commset. “Doctor Weir, this is Sheppard. Teyla and I are ready to head out. What’s Peterson’s location?”

---

Up in the control room, Elizabeth heard John’s report, but she kept staring at the schematic on the computer, watching as the little dot representing Peterson continued to approach the center of the city and the base of the central tower. How could this situation have spiraled out of control so quickly? There had to be another option besides sending out armed guards to herd Peterson back to the quarantine zone. They just needed a little more time…

---

Silence. Teyla looked nervous as John’s heart sped up as the memory of another silence, standing helpless in the freezing rain at Grounding Station Three a few weeks ago, began to taunt him.

“Elizabeth?”

Still no response. Whispers of what had happened during the Genii raid were building into something a little darker, as his imagination painted all manner of horrible pictures of what might be happening up in the gateroom. Had Peterson already reached the gateroom, and no one was answering because they were all busy trying to stop him from achieving whatever paranoid objective he’d fixated on?

---

Elizabeth continued to stare at the computer screen. They needed more time, but time was a luxury they no longer had. She only hoped John’s insistence on taking care of this personally instead of waiting for Bates or the closer security teams, wouldn’t escalate the situation further.

“He’s in Section E-Nineteen, Level Three.”

---

Back in the infirmary, John and Teyla exchanged a look. Not there yet. Everyone’s safe. Nonetheless, John didn’t like the flat tone of Elizabeth’s voice one damn bit. It was his a part of his job to protect everyone, including her. She knew that just as well as he did, so why was she being so stubborn? Didn’t she understand yet what was going on here? He shook himself mentally. There’d be time to settle this disagreement over responsibilities and boundaries later, but right now, he had a job to do. He put on his own helmet and looked over at Teyla.

“Let’s head out.”

He turned, picked up his P-90, and headed for the door, with Teyla, similarly armed, following close behind.

---

In another part of the city, Peterson wiggled his pocket knife in the slots on a door panel, manipulating the control crystals enough to unlock the door and crack it open a fraction. He folded up his knife and positioned himself in front of the doorway, gripping the edges with his hands and using the leverage of shoulders and legs to pull the doors open further. He had to get out of here. This city wasn’t safe anymore…

What was that sound? He stopped, slowly turning around to look back the way he came.

Another shadow, like the one he’d seen before, rushed at him out of the darkness, screaming like some hideous fiend out of hell. Peterson howled wordlessly, flinging his arms up in front of his face in a futile attempt to ward the thing off. When the expected contact didn’t come, he opened his eyes, lowered his arms and looked around.

Nothing there.

What were those things? Appearing and disappearing at will, clearly bent on some task he didn’t even want to comprehend. Better to just get the hell out of here. Breathing heavily, he quickly spun around and set back to his task, finally shoving the doors open enough for him to squeeze through. He looked back through the doorway one last time

Still nothing there.

He turned away from the door and started running toward the center of the city. He had to get out of here. Once he got through the Stargate, it would be over. He’d be safe. He just had to get to the gate, get away from everyone. Then he’d be safe.

Oh, SK, thatw as wonderful Pot meet the kettle indeed! Teyla is onto them, sort of speak, and I just love how John froze with fear and had a Kolya - flashback.

[Scary Kitty]

Oooooh, that was VERY GOOD. I loved it! It's one of my favorite scenes which shows why sparky dynamic is so fascinating.

On my own homework, I hope I'll have it done today. I picked my favorite scenes from Quarantine. Am I up to something naughty? Only if taking canon into account, instead of blatantly ignoring it is considered naughty

*snickers* Oooooh, you're being very naughty indeed! I can't wait to see it!

Oh, SK, thatw as wonderful Pot meet the kettle indeed! Teyla is onto them, sort of speak, and I just love how John froze with fear and had a Kolya - flashback.

Oh, you betcha. Teyla totally knows. *snickers*

HZ was only two episodes after Storm/Eye, so I figured the memory of that would be very fresh and raw in John's mind, and making him a bit overprotective.

[Southern Red]

Oooooh, that was VERY GOOD. I loved it! It's one of my favorite scenes which shows why sparky dynamic is so fascinating.

On my own homework, I hope I'll have it done today. I picked my favorite scenes from Quarantine. Am I up to something naughty? Only if taking canon into account, instead of blatantly ignoring it is considered naughty

It is in some circles. Or twisting canon to your own devices, which is also quite popular.

[Anuna]

It is in some circles. Or twisting canon to your own devices, which is also quite popular.

You mean like turning good ole 'Lantis into sociopath entity and forgetting whole episodes? Yeah, i take it's quite popular these days.

Hey, I am going to start a series about John and Elizabeth, from season 1, eventually hooking them up somewhere in season 3, and then dealing with John's feelings of loss through seasons to follow. I'll twist canon just a little bit. I don't need sociopath aliens or AI, actually; a secret relationship between them can be worked into the canon just fine.

[Southern Red]

You mean like turning good ole 'Lantis into sociopath entity and forgetting whole episodes? Yeah, i take it's quite popular these days.

Hey, I am going to start a series about John and Elizabeth, from season 1, eventually hooking them up somewhere in season 3, and then dealing with John's feelings of loss through seasons to follow. I'll twist canon just a little bit. I don't need sociopath aliens or AI, actually; a secret relationship between them can be worked into the canon just fine.

I heard something about sociopathic Atlantis just recently in fact. John, evidently, has been given a frontal lobotomy. It's not pretty.

[Eri13]

Oooh, pissed off Sparky. And I think this was the first time he called her Elizabeth. I love the fact in this scene that Teyla sees how alike John and Elizabeth are. Even before they do. Great job.

Yeah, I love that the first time you hear him speak her name "Elizabeth" is when he's worried ("Elizabeth, he's heading right for you!"). It'd be a neat fic to write, filling in the blanks of when he got to the point where he felt comfortable addressing her as Elizabeth and not "Doctor Weir". I'd like to think it's an issue about almost losing her in "The Eye".

*falls out of chair, laughing hysterically! OMG, Joe is such a GOOFBALL!

Glad you liked it! And that's another good point about this exercise; it lets us see how everyone approaches an interpretation. This was fun!

Thanks! I rather like pissed off Sparky. I remember the first time I watched HZ and Teyla shot her own brand of 'pot meet kettle' snark at John about the way he and Elizabeth were acting, and I thought, 'damn, the kids sure don't like it when Mom and Dad fight.'

You can do it!

When they fought it was awesome! I wish we'd gotten more, because they did it well--it was all about what logically made the most sense to them and sticking to their guns about it. But the writers couldn't seem to work it in--I think Joe's John just ended up being too friendly with Weir. But they had all kinds of smoldering chemistry in both the Rising balcony scene and the scene in her office after HZ.

*snorts coffee through nose*

Isn't she a little bit too much like her dad? I'd say yes. I loved this!!

I had fun writing it. Emma's been in my head (and in various forms in paper for a while) but this ficlet just came because I needed something happy and fun.

[nephtys59]

Sometimes, reading old fics, you can find interesting points of view.
This one is about the Conversion episode (one of my favourites):
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2582203/1/Return_To_Normal

In this short fic, Teyla says she was a little insulted that Sheppard hit on her (the primative creature he became saw her as potential breeding stock) instead of trying to kill her (he was strangling Elizabeth instead).
Later Elizabeth thinks about it and realizes what she meant. The primative brain has very set priorities: food, territory... mating. Teyla felt Elizabeth was honored, because she wasn't seen in that way and was challenged instead as the Leader.
I think the writer of this fic might have a point.

[SMB_BOOKS]

Saturday prompties....

Pineapple Martinis
Game Day
Clutter Patrol
Curling Up With A Good Book
Appetizer Night

Enjoy and have fun!

[Anuna]

Aaaah. I'm almost, almost done with my homework! *bounces*

[drewandian]

Aaaah. I'm almost, almost done with my homework! *bounces*

I still haven't started mine...*headdesk*

[Anuna]

Anyway - it's here! It's past ten pm and I'm tiiired and yawning. I did my best with these. First there's Jennifer/Ronon scene. Writing from Ronon's pov definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone. Writing the John/Teyla scene was much easier - I came to understand that I am quite comfortable writing those two characters.

Spoiler:

Ronon was never really good at waiting. This situation was something they still hadn't experienced yet and he felt frustrated with it all, lying on the bed and suffering the inevitable.

Jennifer was pacing. Up to this point Ronon tired to heed her as little attention as possible – but something in the set of her shoulders and tight expression of her face pulled him out of his bubble. He sat up on the narrow bed and the sheets rustled beneath them, the clean scent filling his nose.

“You OK?” he asked.

Jennifer was looking at the rear door, avoiding his eyes, with arms crossed on her chest. Perhaps his previous comments were out of the line and made her feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Just... I don't like sitting around either,” she looked at him and smiled. Ronon smiled back. She was entirely nice, but too soft in his opinion. Rattling her cage seemed too easy.

But if he was honest, he didn't try anything else but this, ever since he walked in the infirmary. Realizing that she was upset, Ronon decided it would be best to start the whole thing over. He offered a smile that should have passed as pleasant.

Jennifer sighed quietly and continued. “Especially when there's people out there who need me,” she avoided to look at him.

“You're not letting them down.” he said calmly, observing her intently. She seemed different, not the woman who was desperately trying to make small – talk with him, just to avoid the unnerving silence.

It was as if a mask had fallen off her face, and Ronon could see through her – the insecurities, yes, but also the duty, the worry. Jennifer held his eyes with an even, heavy gaze, disbelieving expression on her face, tension in her shoulders.

“There's a disease outbreak,” she paused, frustration apparent. Her expression was subdued and distant, but then a fire lit up in her eyes. “And I'm a doctor, stuck in this room..”

Ronon interrupted her.

“That's right. Stuck.” He let that word linger and settle down between them. “It's not your fault you can't get to them, so don't put the blame on yourself,” he let the smile drop from his face slightly as he kept looking at her. Jennifer's lips quirked. His words didn't seem to bring her relief at first but eventually she gave him a little smile.

In an unusual display of eloquence, Ronon continued talking. He simply wanted to help her feel better, and he kept smiling somewhat awkwardly.

“You remind me of someone I used to know. She put way too much pressure on herself,” the memory of Melena made the smiling part so much easier. If he was honest, Jennifer did remind him of her, with that focused, sometimes single minded dedication to her work in which she excelled. Sometimes it seemed Melena forgot of everything else, even the danger. Her duty came first.

But Jennifer was somehow different. Sometimes it seemed that her duty was just... well, everything.

Jennifer gave him a smile, a real one this time and walked closer, pulling the edge of the sheet and smoothening it, along with whatever troubled her.

“Someone from Sateda?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who was she?” asked Jennifer with genuine interest this time.

“She was someone I cared about,” he said and his voice cracked a little. He remembered it all, the time when everything fell apart. “She was killed during the siege.”

Jennifer didn't avert her eyes this time. “I'm sorry,” she said and he sensed she was. But the sorrow in him wasn't overpowering – it was there, still real and present, but breathing didn't hurt and he kept on talking, for some reason beyond his understanding.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I wanted her to leave but she chose to stay behind and help the others,” he coughed and cleared his throat. The conversation wasn't entirely comfortable. But he kept on going anyway, like he owed her. “Should have forced her to go,” he forced a smile to his face, like he was trying to protect both himself and her from this conversation.

It felt like something had shifted. Jennifer's eyes were serious and her look intense. After a moment Ronon broke the gaze, looking onto the bed. He looked up when she spoke.

“It's not your fault. She chose to stay. Don't put that blame on yourself.”

This time neither broke the gaze.

*

The air in Rodney's lab was never of the best quality. However, this was different – it was getting hotter and the air inside the room felt heavier. John replaced the control crystals, pushing the last one into an empty slot, but the panel beeped disappointingly.

“Oh, come on!” he was past covering up his frustration.

“Nothing's working,” Teyla was still sitting on the chair he pulled up for her. She looked more preoccupied than she was letting on.

John just couldn't sit still any more. He was never good at waiting, or not being able to find solution to a problem. There had to be a way around this, but he was starting to feel increasingly useless. There was no use for Rodney's password from here, and typically, there was nothing that could get John out of the lab. He would bet that Rodney had a stash of donuts somewhere around here, but no guns or explosives or anything such. Slamming a fist against the wall was starting to become more and more appealing.

“OK, on to Plan B,” he flipped on the heel, deciding to find some way to get through that door.

“Which is ...?” asked Teyla, and John didn't like the tone of her voice, or the notion that he wasn't able to assure her. Not really. He wanted to promise her that she would be safe, and her child too, but he couldn't do that.

Instead, without looking at her, John continued to speak.

“Which is blast our way out of here and get to the Control Room. Start searching for any explosives Rodney might have left,” he said although he doubted they would find any. He had to do something. She seemed too far away from him, somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't follow. He felt like that every time he looked at her belly, and it hurt him.

“Well, I doubt that he would -”

She stopped abruptly and John turned, to find her looking down at her stomach, wide – eyed, with both hands hovering above it. John held a breath, thousand thoughts hitting him at once. No, no, not that. He would truly be unable to help her. Teyla looked up at him briefly, and then looked down onto her stomach, gasping.

“Don't tell me that you're, uh -” he didn't finish when he saw her smile.

“The baby just kicked,” she smiled brightly. John's face stretched into a smile of his own as her eyes brightened with joy, and it felt like he was able to see her for the first time, ever since they were locked up in here.

“Really?” he asked, walking up to her.

“There it is again. Here -” she took his hand and placed it firmly against her stomach, and it was the most personal contact he had with her in a long while. John felt a flutter against his palm, gentle, probing, completely curious. He held a breath briefly and looked at Teyla. She looked happy, and it was different than anything he saw on her face, and then it struck him, that he didn't want to lose a friend.

But then he realized he didn't have to.

“Maybe he wants to get out of here as much as we do,” He crooked a smile, but then Teyla's smile faded. Her fingers wrapped around John's as she looked away, looking overwhelmed and exhausted.

“Teyla, you OK?” a genuine concern flooded his throat and flew freely. She took deep breaths and nodded, but something powerful seized john's throat. He wouldn't let her – them – down.

“Just hang in there. I'm gonna get everybody out of here.”

Teyla got up as he neared the window and took one of the chairs in his hand. He hurled it through the window and the glass shattered.

“Stand back,” John warned.

“What are you -?”

When there were no options left, John Sheppard had one more ace up his sleeve – the move that could cost him life. It wasn't different this time. Teyla was quick and pulled at his hand as he looked through the window.

“John, what are you doing?” she knew, but she still had to warn him, at least try to hold him somehow. He was always reckless about his own life – even more so since the Replicator attack, like he hadn't mattered.

Like anyone else was more important.

John, of course, already had a plan set in his mind. “The Control Room is only four floors above us. All I have to do is climb up and I'm in.”

Only from his mouth it could sound like an everyday undertaking.

“Climb the tower?! Is that even possible?”

He didn't listen to her. John climbed the window and stepped outside, on the narrow panel littered with broken glass.

“Sure. Batman did it all the time,” humor was his usual avoidance strategy but there was no more laugh in his voice. Just the intent he was going to make good on.

Teyla looked at him as he studied the way up, knowing she couldn't talk him out of this any more. His voice still carried concern, but there was no more tension.

“Piece of cake. Don't worry – I'll be fine. Gotta turn off that beacon.”

John Sheppard couldn't stand being helpless. Teyla held her breath as she watched his slow climb, until she couldn't see him any more.

I hope you liked it

[Eri13]

Anyway - it's here! It's past ten pm and I'm tiiired and yawning. I did my best with these. First there's Jennifer/Ronon scene. Writing from Ronon's pov definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone. Writing the John/Teyla scene was much easier - I came to understand that I am quite comfortable writing those two characters.

Spoiler:

Ronon was never really good at waiting. This situation was something they still hadn't experienced yet and he felt frustrated with it all, lying on the bed and suffering the inevitable.

Jennifer was pacing. Up to this point Ronon tired to heed her as little attention as possible – but something in the set of her shoulders and tight expression of her face pulled him out of his bubble. He sat up on the narrow bed and the sheets rustled beneath them, the clean scent filling his nose.

“You OK?” he asked.

Jennifer was looking at the rear door, avoiding his eyes, with arms crossed on her chest. Perhaps his previous comments were out of the line and made her feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Just... I don't like sitting around either,” she looked at him and smiled. Ronon smiled back. She was entirely nice, but too soft in his opinion. Rattling her cage seemed too easy.

But if he was honest, he didn't try anything else but this, ever since he walked in the infirmary. Realizing that she was upset, Ronon decided it would be best to start the whole thing over. He offered a smile that should have passed as pleasant.

Jennifer sighed quietly and continued. “Especially when there's people out there who need me,” she avoided to look at him.

“You're not letting them down.” he said calmly, observing her intently. She seemed different, not the woman who was desperately trying to make small – talk with him, just to avoid the unnerving silence.

It was as if a mask had fallen off her face, and Ronon could see through her – the insecurities, yes, but also the duty, the worry. Jennifer held his eyes with an even, heavy gaze, disbelieving expression on her face, tension in her shoulders.

“There's a disease outbreak,” she paused, frustration apparent. Her expression was subdued and distant, but then a fire lit up in her eyes. “And I'm a doctor, stuck in this room..”

Ronon interrupted her.

“That's right. Stuck.” He let that word linger and settle down between them. “It's not your fault you can't get to them, so don't put the blame on yourself,” he let the smile drop from his face slightly as he kept looking at her. Jennifer's lips quirked. His words didn't seem to bring her relief at first but eventually she gave him a little smile.

In an unusual display of eloquence, Ronon continued talking. He simply wanted to help her feel better, and he kept smiling somewhat awkwardly.

“You remind me of someone I used to know. She put way too much pressure on herself,” the memory of Melena made the smiling part so much easier. If he was honest, Jennifer did remind him of her, with that focused, sometimes single minded dedication to her work in which she excelled. Sometimes it seemed Melena forgot of everything else, even the danger. Her duty came first.

But Jennifer was somehow different. Sometimes it seemed that her duty was just... well, everything.

Jennifer gave him a smile, a real one this time and walked closer, pulling the edge of the sheet and smoothening it, along with whatever troubled her.

“Someone from Sateda?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who was she?” asked Jennifer with genuine interest this time.

“She was someone I cared about,” he said and his voice cracked a little. He remembered it all, the time when everything fell apart. “She was killed during the siege.”

Jennifer didn't avert her eyes this time. “I'm sorry,” she said and he sensed she was. But the sorrow in him wasn't overpowering – it was there, still real and present, but breathing didn't hurt and he kept on talking, for some reason beyond his understanding.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I wanted her to leave but she chose to stay behind and help the others,” he coughed and cleared his throat. The conversation wasn't entirely comfortable. But he kept on going anyway, like he owed her. “Should have forced her to go,” he forced a smile to his face, like he was trying to protect both himself and her from this conversation.

It felt like something had shifted. Jennifer's eyes were serious and her look intense. After a moment Ronon broke the gaze, looking onto the bed. He looked up when she spoke.

“It's not your fault. She chose to stay. Don't put that blame on yourself.”

This time neither broke the gaze.

*

The air in Rodney's lab was never of the best quality. However, this was different – it was getting hotter and the air inside the room felt heavier. John replaced the control crystals, pushing the last one into an empty slot, but the panel beeped disappointingly.

“Oh, come on!” he was past covering up his frustration.

“Nothing's working,” Teyla was still sitting on the chair he pulled up for her. She looked more preoccupied than she was letting on.

John just couldn't sit still any more. He was never good at waiting, or not being able to find solution to a problem. There had to be a way around this, but he was starting to feel increasingly useless. There was no use for Rodney's password from here, and typically, there was nothing that could get John out of the lab. He would bet that Rodney had a stash of donuts somewhere around here, but no guns or explosives or anything such. Slamming a fist against the wall was starting to become more and more appealing.

“OK, on to Plan B,” he flipped on the heel, deciding to find some way to get through that door.

“Which is ...?” asked Teyla, and John didn't like the tone of her voice, or the notion that he wasn't able to assure her. Not really. He wanted to promise her that she would be safe, and her child too, but he couldn't do that.

Instead, without looking at her, John continued to speak.

“Which is blast our way out of here and get to the Control Room. Start searching for any explosives Rodney might have left,” he said although he doubted they would find any. He had to do something. She seemed too far away from him, somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't follow. He felt like that every time he looked at her belly, and it hurt him.

“Well, I doubt that he would -”

She stopped abruptly and John turned, to find her looking down at her stomach, wide – eyed, with both hands hovering above it. John held a breath, thousand thoughts hitting him at once. No, no, not that. He would truly be unable to help her. Teyla looked up at him briefly, and then looked down onto her stomach, gasping.

“Don't tell me that you're, uh -” he didn't finish when he saw her smile.

“The baby just kicked,” she smiled brightly. John's face stretched into a smile of his own as her eyes brightened with joy, and it felt like he was able to see her for the first time, ever since they were locked up in here.

“Really?” he asked, walking up to her.

“There it is again. Here -” she took his hand and placed it firmly against her stomach, and it was the most personal contact he had with her in a long while. John felt a flutter against his palm, gentle, probing, completely curious. He held a breath briefly and looked at Teyla. She looked happy, and it was different than anything he saw on her face, and then it struck him, that he didn't want to lose a friend.

But then he realized he didn't have to.

“Maybe he wants to get out of here as much as we do,” He crooked a smile, but then Teyla's smile faded. Her fingers wrapped around John's as she looked away, looking overwhelmed and exhausted.

“Teyla, you OK?” a genuine concern flooded his throat and flew freely. She took deep breaths and nodded, but something powerful seized john's throat. He wouldn't let her – them – down.

“Just hang in there. I'm gonna get everybody out of here.”

Teyla got up as he neared the window and took one of the chairs in his hand. He hurled it through the window and the glass shattered.

“Stand back,” John warned.

“What are you -?”

When there were no options left, John Sheppard had one more ace up his sleeve – the move that could cost him life. It wasn't different this time. Teyla was quick and pulled at his hand as he looked through the window.

“John, what are you doing?” she knew, but she still had to warn him, at least try to hold him somehow. He was always reckless about his own life – even more so since the Replicator attack, like he hadn't mattered.

Like anyone else was more important.

John, of course, already had a plan set in his mind. “The Control Room is only four floors above us. All I have to do is climb up and I'm in.”

Only from his mouth it could sound like an everyday undertaking.

“Climb the tower?! Is that even possible?”

He didn't listen to her. John climbed the window and stepped outside, on the narrow panel littered with broken glass.

“Sure. Batman did it all the time,” humor was his usual avoidance strategy but there was no more laugh in his voice. Just the intent he was going to make good on.

Teyla looked at him as he studied the way up, knowing she couldn't talk him out of this any more. His voice still carried concern, but there was no more tension.

“Piece of cake. Don't worry – I'll be fine. Gotta turn off that beacon.”

John Sheppard couldn't stand being helpless. Teyla held her breath as she watched his slow climb, until she couldn't see him any more.

I hope you liked it

Wow, that was great! I loved the Ronon/Keller scene, but the John/Teyla scene was phenomenal! I love that moment in Quarantine and you really brought it nicely to life. You especially have a nice grasp of John and his motivations.

[Southern Red]

Anyway - it's here! It's past ten pm and I'm tiiired and yawning. I did my best with these. First there's Jennifer/Ronon scene. Writing from Ronon's pov definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone. Writing the John/Teyla scene was much easier - I came to understand that I am quite comfortable writing those two characters.

Spoiler:

Ronon was never really good at waiting. This situation was something they still hadn't experienced yet and he felt frustrated with it all, lying on the bed and suffering the inevitable.

Jennifer was pacing. Up to this point Ronon tired to heed her as little attention as possible – but something in the set of her shoulders and tight expression of her face pulled him out of his bubble. He sat up on the narrow bed and the sheets rustled beneath them, the clean scent filling his nose.

“You OK?” he asked.

Jennifer was looking at the rear door, avoiding his eyes, with arms crossed on her chest. Perhaps his previous comments were out of the line and made her feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Just... I don't like sitting around either,” she looked at him and smiled. Ronon smiled back. She was entirely nice, but too soft in his opinion. Rattling her cage seemed too easy.

But if he was honest, he didn't try anything else but this, ever since he walked in the infirmary. Realizing that she was upset, Ronon decided it would be best to start the whole thing over. He offered a smile that should have passed as pleasant.

Jennifer sighed quietly and continued. “Especially when there's people out there who need me,” she avoided to look at him.

“You're not letting them down.” he said calmly, observing her intently. She seemed different, not the woman who was desperately trying to make small – talk with him, just to avoid the unnerving silence.

It was as if a mask had fallen off her face, and Ronon could see through her – the insecurities, yes, but also the duty, the worry. Jennifer held his eyes with an even, heavy gaze, disbelieving expression on her face, tension in her shoulders.

“There's a disease outbreak,” she paused, frustration apparent. Her expression was subdued and distant, but then a fire lit up in her eyes. “And I'm a doctor, stuck in this room..”

Ronon interrupted her.

“That's right. Stuck.” He let that word linger and settle down between them. “It's not your fault you can't get to them, so don't put the blame on yourself,” he let the smile drop from his face slightly as he kept looking at her. Jennifer's lips quirked. His words didn't seem to bring her relief at first but eventually she gave him a little smile.

In an unusual display of eloquence, Ronon continued talking. He simply wanted to help her feel better, and he kept smiling somewhat awkwardly.

“You remind me of someone I used to know. She put way too much pressure on herself,” the memory of Melena made the smiling part so much easier. If he was honest, Jennifer did remind him of her, with that focused, sometimes single minded dedication to her work in which she excelled. Sometimes it seemed Melena forgot of everything else, even the danger. Her duty came first.

But Jennifer was somehow different. Sometimes it seemed that her duty was just... well, everything.

Jennifer gave him a smile, a real one this time and walked closer, pulling the edge of the sheet and smoothening it, along with whatever troubled her.

“Someone from Sateda?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who was she?” asked Jennifer with genuine interest this time.

“She was someone I cared about,” he said and his voice cracked a little. He remembered it all, the time when everything fell apart. “She was killed during the siege.”

Jennifer didn't avert her eyes this time. “I'm sorry,” she said and he sensed she was. But the sorrow in him wasn't overpowering – it was there, still real and present, but breathing didn't hurt and he kept on talking, for some reason beyond his understanding.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I wanted her to leave but she chose to stay behind and help the others,” he coughed and cleared his throat. The conversation wasn't entirely comfortable. But he kept on going anyway, like he owed her. “Should have forced her to go,” he forced a smile to his face, like he was trying to protect both himself and her from this conversation.

It felt like something had shifted. Jennifer's eyes were serious and her look intense. After a moment Ronon broke the gaze, looking onto the bed. He looked up when she spoke.

“It's not your fault. She chose to stay. Don't put that blame on yourself.”

This time neither broke the gaze.

*

The air in Rodney's lab was never of the best quality. However, this was different – it was getting hotter and the air inside the room felt heavier. John replaced the control crystals, pushing the last one into an empty slot, but the panel beeped disappointingly.

“Oh, come on!” he was past covering up his frustration.

“Nothing's working,” Teyla was still sitting on the chair he pulled up for her. She looked more preoccupied than she was letting on.

John just couldn't sit still any more. He was never good at waiting, or not being able to find solution to a problem. There had to be a way around this, but he was starting to feel increasingly useless. There was no use for Rodney's password from here, and typically, there was nothing that could get John out of the lab. He would bet that Rodney had a stash of donuts somewhere around here, but no guns or explosives or anything such. Slamming a fist against the wall was starting to become more and more appealing.

“OK, on to Plan B,” he flipped on the heel, deciding to find some way to get through that door.

“Which is ...?” asked Teyla, and John didn't like the tone of her voice, or the notion that he wasn't able to assure her. Not really. He wanted to promise her that she would be safe, and her child too, but he couldn't do that.

Instead, without looking at her, John continued to speak.

“Which is blast our way out of here and get to the Control Room. Start searching for any explosives Rodney might have left,” he said although he doubted they would find any. He had to do something. She seemed too far away from him, somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't follow. He felt like that every time he looked at her belly, and it hurt him.

“Well, I doubt that he would -”

She stopped abruptly and John turned, to find her looking down at her stomach, wide – eyed, with both hands hovering above it. John held a breath, thousand thoughts hitting him at once. No, no, not that. He would truly be unable to help her. Teyla looked up at him briefly, and then looked down onto her stomach, gasping.

“Don't tell me that you're, uh -” he didn't finish when he saw her smile.

“The baby just kicked,” she smiled brightly. John's face stretched into a smile of his own as her eyes brightened with joy, and it felt like he was able to see her for the first time, ever since they were locked up in here.

“Really?” he asked, walking up to her.

“There it is again. Here -” she took his hand and placed it firmly against her stomach, and it was the most personal contact he had with her in a long while. John felt a flutter against his palm, gentle, probing, completely curious. He held a breath briefly and looked at Teyla. She looked happy, and it was different than anything he saw on her face, and then it struck him, that he didn't want to lose a friend.

But then he realized he didn't have to.

“Maybe he wants to get out of here as much as we do,” He crooked a smile, but then Teyla's smile faded. Her fingers wrapped around John's as she looked away, looking overwhelmed and exhausted.

“Teyla, you OK?” a genuine concern flooded his throat and flew freely. She took deep breaths and nodded, but something powerful seized john's throat. He wouldn't let her – them – down.

“Just hang in there. I'm gonna get everybody out of here.”

Teyla got up as he neared the window and took one of the chairs in his hand. He hurled it through the window and the glass shattered.

“Stand back,” John warned.

“What are you -?”

When there were no options left, John Sheppard had one more ace up his sleeve – the move that could cost him life. It wasn't different this time. Teyla was quick and pulled at his hand as he looked through the window.

“John, what are you doing?” she knew, but she still had to warn him, at least try to hold him somehow. He was always reckless about his own life – even more so since the Replicator attack, like he hadn't mattered.

Like anyone else was more important.

John, of course, already had a plan set in his mind. “The Control Room is only four floors above us. All I have to do is climb up and I'm in.”

Only from his mouth it could sound like an everyday undertaking.

“Climb the tower?! Is that even possible?”

He didn't listen to her. John climbed the window and stepped outside, on the narrow panel littered with broken glass.

“Sure. Batman did it all the time,” humor was his usual avoidance strategy but there was no more laugh in his voice. Just the intent he was going to make good on.

Teyla looked at him as he studied the way up, knowing she couldn't talk him out of this any more. His voice still carried concern, but there was no more tension.

“Piece of cake. Don't worry – I'll be fine. Gotta turn off that beacon.”

John Sheppard couldn't stand being helpless. Teyla held her breath as she watched his slow climb, until she couldn't see him any more.

I hope you liked it

Absolutely A++. You nailed the characters so very well. It makes me angry at McKeller all over again and the John/Teyla scene was just perfect. I love their friendship and wish all the shipping nonsense wasn't in the way of it. So lovely and very much in character.