Red, Red Wine
Dedicated to the Sparky thread over at GW, particularly Kath Pup (call it a delurking present), and you others too... you'll know why, you sophisticats :grin:
Warning: Major fluff rating. Oh yes.
Set mid-season 3, mild spoiler for Common Ground.
Red, Red Wine
Thankful for her day off, Elizabeth stretched out on her couch. She had woken up with a very mild buzzing around the back of her skull, quickly vanquished by a herbal tea. Then again, she’d never been one to suffer much with hangovers. Diplomats learned how to hold their drink or stopped drinking. Pilots, on the other hand… She fought not to grin. Opening her book, she relaxed to read, enjoying the early morning quiet and lack of people pestering her.
She wasn't avoiding thinking about John. Not at all.
Rolling her eyes, she turned the book over after an impatient and brief search for a bookmark, spine be damned. Clipping her radio into her ear, she asked to be put on a private channel to the infirmary, intending to ask for some painkillers to be sent to his room before stopping and saying lamely that she was 'just checking in.'
Carson sighed audibly. "Everything's as fine as it usually is, lass. It's your day off, so I like you, but I don't want to hear from you again, am I clear?"
She mumbled something, feeling like her fifth grade teacher had just caught her peeking at test questions.
"And tell that to Captain Scarlet as well," Carson said before signing off.
Elizabeth didn't reply, failing to find appropriate words, and trying to still the panic in her gut at his name for John. What's Carson heard? Why would he call him that? Does it have anything to do with me wearing red all the time?
She stamped on the voice as she rifled through her top drawer for the painkillers she took when she didn't want Carson to quiz her on why or make her take days off. I'm just being my usual over-analytical self. Diplomacy will do that.
She grinned suddenly, thinking that as difficult as the situation with John was about to become, he at least wouldn't be doing any over-thinking at that particular moment. In fact, she'd be astonished if he were capable of much in the way of thought at all.
X
John woke up with the faint knowledge burning in the back of his mind that yes, that headache was coming and soon. But it wasn't there yet, just a taste in his mouth that made him crave toothpaste, a distinctly... he could think of no other word than fuzzy for the feeling on his teeth, even though hearing the word in his distinctly unlayered thoughts made his stomach roll just that little bit more. Not helped by trying to move, a mistake acknowledged with an inarticulate moan as he fell back on his bed. The last time I felt this bad I was prematurely ninety years old, he thought, the voice in his head sounding as groggy and slow as the inhuman sounds coming from his burning throat.
And oh god. Elizabeth.
John tried to think about how he was going to deal with that, but only came up with 'need painkillers now,' and he couldn't honestly say it was all to do with the hangover.
Hanging onto the doorframe for dear life, he swore vehemently as something wet hit his foot, wearing one of yesterday's socks. He'd kicked over a glass of water, a pack of aspirin beside it. Recognising the label as one from a pharmacy in Colorado Springs, he grinned and looked down the corridor. She was sneaky, he'd grant her that, but his head hurt too much to complain.
X
One day before:
Could she what? Elizabeth thought, mind stalling somewhere between the blisteringly angry and the smile she knew she still had plastered on her face. Diplomacy, she thought with deep distaste, is not sacrificing my single day off in weeks to a scientist who wouldn’t know a comb if I threw it at him right now.
The thought filled her with an irrational desire to laugh, or more accurately, the mental image of it bouncing off of said scientist’s head. Losing track of what he was saying, she caught John’s eye as he walked past the door. But then the light hit the shiny bald spot right on the top of the scientists head and the irrational desire to laugh came back with a vengeance. The more Elizabeth thought about it, the more she wanted to laugh and actually see if he would notice a flying pen, and the less she wanted to be thinking about it because sooner or later-
“Hmm… I don’t think that’s particularly urgent,” John smoothly interposed from his position by the door. As the scientist began to state why this bit of research and not fifty other projects absolutely had to be reviewed tomorrow, John held up a hand. “I’m not saying it’s not important,” He said quietly, raising an eyebrow very slightly, “I just think it would be better waiting until … Thursday… when … Dr. McKay’s had a chance to look at it.”
The scientist paused, looking like a deer caught in headlights, as John put a hand on his back and subtly but most definitely steered him towards the door.
“Sorry, did I say ‘McKay’?” John shook his head. “I meant Dr. Zelenka, my bad.”
The scientist began to breathe again and scurried off.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as he closed the clear door firmly behind the scientist and smiled at her.
“You were wasted in the Air Force,” She remarked lightly. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she gestured to the retreating and somewhat baffled scientist. “You would have made a decent diplomat.”
He slid into a chair opposite her with a smile. “Now I know you need a break,” John quipped, “Because you almost called me diplomatic.”
“No, no, no,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh, “I said you ‘would have made a decent diplomat.’ Not that you’re anything approaching diplomatic. The training would have knocked that streak out of you.”
“Suits and ties?” John asked playfully.
She nodded, mock serious and with a glance at his battered running shoes.
They met each others’ eyes and laughed, Elizabeth shaking her head with a smile.
Elizabeth turned back to her work as he left, noticing that he held up a hand and clicked his fingers as he turned back. She looked up with an indulgent smile as he stopped, his own smile a little sheepish and running a hand through his hair.
“I’ve got a night off tomorrow, too, you know,” He asked, a little too casually.
“What’re you thinking?” Elizabeth replied. He shrugged.
“Movie night?”
Elizabeth nodded with a smile.
X
He hesitated, looking at the bottle with uncertainty. Too much like a date?
He thought about the games room and the thought process he’d went through earlier.
Teyla… Nah, she’s going to the mainland early the morning after and said she wanted an early night.
Rodney … He said he would be doing some research in the labs…
Lorne… Offworld… Carson…on call and working early the day after…
He knew in his head that if he’d asked them, they might have said yes. Even Rodney. They’d done it before. He didn’t blame the Satedan for his scepticism of Maynard Ferguson. Although after he had heard his Herbie Hancock albums and hadn’t been converted….
Ronon? The Blues Brothers would be lost on him.
Which left him, Elizabeth and a bottle of wine that he couldn’t decide whether to take or not. He also didn’t quite know what had possessed him to buy it the last time he’d gone over the intergalactic bridge to Earth, conveniently forgetting that Elizabeth had mentioned the criminal lack of wine in the Pegasus galaxy a few days before he’d gone through.
John lifted the wine and slipped his feet into the battered shoes, smiling. That made it better. Friends could have wine together, but Elizabeth would definitely get ideas if he changed his shoes.
X
Elizabeth had never figured herself for a typical woman, to be standing in front of her cupboard like a teen and wondering what to wear.
She picked out a blue top and held it against herself, turning to Teyla and seeing her shake her head.
“Are the clothes you are wearing not suitable for The Blues Brothers?” Teyla asked, surprising a laugh out of Elizabeth, who held up a dark suit jacket and the sunglasses that sat on top of the drawers.
“If it were themed, I’d be wearing these,” She said with a grin, pausing and saying, “Never mind,” when Teyla only tilted her head slightly.
She felt the Athosian woman’s eyes on her as she held up another top, finally settling on a light green jumper and wide-legged grey trousers. Holding them up with a look at Teyla, she let out a breath when the other woman smiled and nodded.
“If I were not leaving early tomorrow, I would join you tonight,” Teyla said lightly, something ironic in her eyes.
Elizabeth turned and narrowed her eyes with a small smile. “You’re not leaving until eleven tomorrow.”
Teyla smiled mysteriously and held up her hands with a somewhat fake yawn.
“And,” Elizabeth continued, “You were leaving at nine but came along to movie night last week.”
Teyla smiled this time, eyes innocently wide, “But that was Casablanca.”
“But-” Elizabeth began, only for Teyla to uncharacteristically interrupt with that same smile hovering on her lips.
“Elizabeth,” she stated, voice firm, “Have a good night.”
What was that all about? Elizabeth thought, baffled, as she held up the green jumper and wondered whether it was really all right.
“And the clothes you have chosen are perfectly suitable,” Teyla’s voice drifted in from along the corridor.
Elizabeth blushed and smiled sheepishly.
X
Elizabeth walked into the game room, confused by why it was dark and blinking until her eyes adjusted to see John sitting on the couch, feet up on the small table in front, with a blank screen in front of him.
“Hey,” He called over, patting the couch beside him. “Whatcha bring?”
She held up a tub of Pringles with a soft smile and watched his jaw slide open just a little, reaching for them with an almost reverential gaze.
“How… when…? Are they…?”
Elizabeth laughed and handed them over, “Yes, they’re that flavour, and you don’t want to know. Let’s just say I interpreted the definition of ‘essential supplies’ this once. What’d you bring?”
He almost shyly handed over the bottle of wine, causing Elizabeth to have almost the exact same reaction he’d had.
She looked at him, a slight trace of wonder in her voice. “This is red wine, John.”
He nodded quite seriously in reply, chinking the two glasses balanced between his fingers together. “And these are wine glasses.”
A note of fear entered Elizabeth’s voice as she looked at him.
“John?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me you smuggled a corkscrew in the same crate as this.”
X
John had, in fact, smuggled a corkscrew into the same crate. And once they’d both had several glasses, he revealed he’d even managed some beer.
And Aretha hasn’t even sung yet, Elizabeth thought as she laughed. We’re going to be trashed by the end.
Later, she was still laughing.
“Oh completely,” John said, mock-serious, “If you don’t think Spinal Tap or the Blues Brothers are two of the best films ever made, you have got to be a goa’uld.”
“You really think we could use it as a test?” Elizabeth replied, laughing, “Sit people down in front of Spinal Tap?”
“And if they don’t laugh, they’re evil!” John said emphatically with a nod.
Elizabeth felt her eyes burn with tears as she turned to sit cross-legged on the couch facing John.
“What about the Blues Brothers, though?” John said, actually appearing to contemplate such a dilemma and nearly falling off of the couch in the process.
“They have to dance,” Elizabeth heard herself say seriously, and felt her head nod. “If they haven’t danced by the end, they’re evil.”
“To this one?” John asked as the band struck up ‘Everybody Needs Somebody.’
“Oh yes,” Elizabeth nodded, putting a hand on the couch to stop herself from falling forward.
“Elizabeth,” John said very seriously, putting his hand over hers. Elizabeth looked up through her hair to meet his eyes. “Are we evil?”
“No!” Elizabeth replied, shaking her head and not moving her hand.
“Then why aren’t we dancing?”
And then he’d grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet, almost shyly taking her hand and her waist. And then they were dancing and laughing, with John twirling Elizabeth under his arm and Elizabeth laughing when John tried to do the same but was too tall.
And then John Belushi had been arrested and Carson was asking if they were ‘quite all right.’
X
Present:
John was planning on making a silent entry and handling this situation with delicacy and forethought.
But then there was fresh air. And then it was bright, and maybe it was his demented imagination inflicting it upon him, but he swore he heard seagulls in the distance and he hated seagulls even when he wasn’t so hungover he would willingly take the next suicide mission to get away from the headache.
Elizabeth stood at the balcony, all too healthy looking.
Do her painkillers kick in earlier or something? John couldn’t help but think, stumbling into the bright light and letting out a string of curses that belonged in the barracks.
“You look happy,” John said as brightly as he could, wincing as he stepped into a particularly sunlit patch of balcony.
“I am,” Elizabeth said with a slow smile and a hint of a blush, “I had a great time, despite… Carson and half of Atlantis seeing me tipsy.”
“Great,” John said, wondering where his civil tongue had gone, “So why do you look so happy?”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him with an amused smile. “Just because I can hold my wine, John, doesn’t mean you get to speak to me like that.” She smiled and nodded to the door, “We should get you some coffee.”
John winced and ducked his head. “I hate people like you sometimes, it’s not fair that you get to be perfect.”
He turned to walk out to get the said - and now much desired - coffee, but realised Elizabeth wasn’t following. John turned to meet her eyes, waiting for the explosion. When it didn’t come, he cautiously asked, “Elizabeth, what’d I say?”
She smiled softly, leaning against the rail, “’Perfect’?”
He took a deep breath and then looked at her again, suddenly feeling quite a bit better. “Don’t let it go to your head. Modesty is also a sign of perfection, you know.”
Elizabeth ducked her head and walked over to by his side, butting her shoulder against his upper arm. She met his eyes with a grin. “You don’t clean up so badly yourself, even if you couldn’t drink wine to save this galaxy or any other.”
And then he had kissed her, and neither of them could say it was the wine.
And then John had started laughing, and so had Elizabeth, and neither could quite explain why.
“My first thought there?” John said through bouts of laughter, looking at Elizabeth sheepishly.
“‘Thank God I brushed my teeth?’” Elizabeth asked, laughing.
“How’d you know?”
“Mine too,” Elizabeth admitted.
Watching, Atlantis wondered if something had gone wrong with the water system and considered making the twitchy one look at it, seeing as her favourites were acting very strangely.
Then she decided she liked it almost as much as they liked kissing each other, because they were at it again.
THE END
A/N So yeah… this one turned out … strangely… Let me know what you think, and blame all drunken giddiness on those pesky Gateworlders :grin:
EDIT: Okay, I tried to put this under under a cut, but it didn't work. Going to consult some people who know how to use this thing and return...
Kay x