Cold Hands, Warm Heart, by Audrey Lynne (F**king Freezing Challenge)
Cold Hands, Warm Heart
By Audrey Lynne
This, Elizabeth Weir decided, was without a doubt, the worst idea she'd ever had.
No, she amended a second later, washing her clothes in the sink would have been the worst idea she'd ever had. However, sitting in a twenty-four hour laundromat in a less than delightful neighborhood on the Lower East Side at two am? It had to be up there.
It was her own fault, really. Elizabeth had an interview in the morning at the UN, to see about a summer internship that could really jumpstart her career in diplomacy. However, she had been responsible for getting herself to New York City and finding lodging, and she was pretty much living on grants until she got her doctorate. They covered her tuition and books, as well as most of her living expenses, and her job took care of groceries and car payments, but there wasn't a lot left over. And, therefore, she had ended up getting on a Greyhound from Washington, DC to New York City and crashing at a friend's apartment.
Unfortunately, in the rush to pack, Elizabeth hadn't checked to ensure that her toiletry bag was fully zipped--she was just glad she'd remembered to bring it. Somewhere along the way, her shampoo had opened and spilled all over everything else in her bag, including the outfit she was wearing to the interview. Tomorrow. At ten am. She couldn't even borrow something from her friend, considering that Simon's wardrobe obviously wouldn't have been particularly flattering on her. Unless it was one of his shirts, early in the morning, but she wasn't going there. They'd met in an undergrad course, they'd spent a lot of time together until he had left for medical school in New York, and he had offered to let her spend a couple of days at his place because he was a genuinely nice guy. That was what Elizabeth kept telling herself. There were still nice guys in the world. He didn't want to jump her bones, despite the fact that she wouldn't have minded jumping his.
Why Elizabeth was constantly attracted to men she knew it would never work out with, she had no idea. Simon was nice, attractive, wonderful...but...they were both Type A personalities, driven people who would inevitably let their careers get in the way of whatever relationship they might have. Friendship was the best option for them. Logically, Elizabeth knew that; she just had to convince her heart it was true. In the meantime, it was probably best that they were several states apart, as neither was at all interested in a long-distance relationship.
At least Elizabeth had something to keep her distracted from those thoughts, even if it was less than ideal. She had gotten wrapped up in sightseeing most of the afternoon, then caught dinner and a movie with Simon. Elizabeth hadn't even opened her suitcase until nearly midnight, then discovered the mess. Simon was renting an apartment over a mom-and-pop grocery store, which meant the nearest washing machine was at the laundromat down the street. Which closed at ten. There was a twenty-four hour place a couple blocks away, however, and despite Simon's protests that Elizabeth really shouldn't run around by herself late at night in that neighborhood, Elizabeth had mace on her keychain and a basic understanding of self-defense. She had more of a problem with the fact that it was the middle of January, with snow on the ground and the temperature hovering around twenty degrees. It was cold.
Elizabeth had always hated the cold, and getting to the laundromat hadn't helped, as apparently, they didn't bother to run the heat all twenty-four hours the place was open. Being inside sheltered her from the wind, but it didn't help her warm up, and the coffee vending machine was broken. She rubbed her hands together, still in her gloves, and wished the heat from the dryer was enough to make a difference. It wasn't, really, but she could pretend it might be, and maybe she wouldn't feel the cold so much. Mind over matter and all that.
The door rattled, and Elizabeth jumped, watching it suspiciously. She wasn't paranoid, but staying alert never hurt anyone. The man that shuffled in, however, didn't appear to pose much of a threat, especially considering he was lugging a plastic bag stuffed full of clothes and a bottle of laundry soap. Elizabeth was glad for the company; even if he completely ignored her, it was another body in the place and she was no longer a lone, young female--albeit one who was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He glanced in her general direction, and she waved. "Glad to see I'm not the only one crazy enough to do laundry at two in the morning." There, she'd made the opening move of approachability. If he wanted to talk, the ice had been broken. If not, she'd go back to trying to read the book she hadn't been able to concentrate on because her fingers were achy from the cold.
He looked at her for a moment, as if surprised she was speaking to him, then smiled almost shyly. "Yes, well, with my schedule, is only time, I have, really." His accent was Eastern European, even though Elizabeth couldn't place it exactly, and while his English was good, he spoke with the hesitance of a non-native speaker who wasn't entirely comfortable with the language yet. Elizabeth could understand that. Russian had been a bitch for her to pick up and she still wasn't entirely sure a five-year-old native speaker couldn't have left her in the dust.
"I understand that." Elizabeth grinned. "I hope you don't find it too forward, but...your accent is lovely. Where are you from, originally?"
"Ah...thank you." He emptied his bag into a washer near the one Elizabeth was sitting on. She could have had a chair, but they were right by the door, which didn't shut all the way. "I came here from Prague."
Elizabeth grinned. She'd thought the accent might have been Czech, but she hadn't wanted to guess and risk offending him if she were wrong. "I've always wanted to see Prague."
"Oh, you should. It is a beautiful city." His eyes lit up behind his glasses as he talked about it. "Of course, I am somewhat biased."
"You're allowed," Elizabeth assured him with a laugh. "I'd go in a heartbeat, but...you know, poor graduate student."
He nodded. "Ah, yes, this I understand. Otherwise, I might be back there myself. This country has been good to me, but...it isn't home."
Elizabeth had always been a language geek--part of why she'd learned four so far and was starting on a fifth next semester--and she caught the "isn't." If he was using contractions, he probably had a better handle on the language than his confidence suggested. But, then, given the number of people in America who unfortunately automatically equated an accent with an inability to speak English at all, she wasn't entirely surprised. "I hear you." As much as she would have loved to spend time living abroad, she couldn't imagine herself not wanting to come home to Georgetown. "So what brought you here?" She had her suspicions, given that it had been less than a decade since the Soviets left Czechoslovakia and even less than that since the Czech Republic and Slovakia had re-established themselves as independent countries, but Elizabeth didn't like to assume. For all she knew, he had left home after the Revolution.
He paused long enough to dig a handful of quarters out of his pocket and start the washer, then poured a capful of soap in and shut the lid. As he moved to sit atop the washer as well, he told Elizabeth, "The Soviets, they were particular enough about who they let attend university, but they were even more so when it came to new ideas. I had to find a country that knew freedom if I wished for my ideas to be given any genuine consideration. It took some doing, but I had a few connections that fortunately allowed me to come to this country, study at NYU." He was contemplative for a long moment. "When I left Prague, I knew I might not be able to return. I do not wish to sound ungrateful for the opportunity I have found here, but now that my country is free and I have completed my education, it is easier to miss home."
"It's okay; I understand," Elizabeth said, nodding. "There's nothing wrong with holding onto your roots, as long as you don't let it get in the way of the life you've got now." It didn't look like he had at first glance, but what did Elizabeth know? She'd only met the guy five minutes ago.
He laughed. "Listen to me, unloading my life story on you, and I don't even know your name."
"Elizabeth," she supplied, extending a hand.
He smiled, shaking it, and Elizabeth noticed he hadn't taken off his gloves either. Not that it meant anything, really, but it made her feel like less of a wimp about the cold. "I'm Radek. Lovely to meet you."
"You too." Elizabeth grinned. "Is it freezing in here or is it just me?"
"Oh, no, it is, for sure." Radek frowned. "You would think I would be used to it. Winter in Prague is often no delight, either, but I have never liked the cold."
"You and me both," Elizabeth commiserated. "When I was growing up, my father would have run the air conditioner in a blizzard if we'd let him. Me, if I'm hot, everyone else has probably been broiling for awhile."
Radek smiled back at her. "My sister and I were both like that. When we were young, she used to crawl into bed with me at night so it would be warmer."
They continued to chat as Radek's clothes washed and Elizabeth's tumbled in the dryer, and while the room didn't get any warmer, at least it was a pleasant distraction. Elizabeth's book had been one she'd picked up at the bus station's gift shop, anyhow, and it wasn't very good. Timing was on their side, and Elizabeth's dryer slowed to a stop about the same time the washer Radek was using finished its final spin cycle. "Well, that's not gonna happen again," Elizabeth chuckled as she opened the dryer. Oddly, while it was warmer than the rest of the place, there was no draft of hot--or even warm--air when she opened the door. Her clothes were nicely tossed, but still wet. "Shit." She rolled her eyes. The company was lovely, but she really didn't want to spend another forty-five minutes sitting around waiting for her clothes. And, furthermore, at Simon's insistence, she had brought only the money she needed to wash and dry a load, so she didn't have any more change on her, just a subway token. Considering that the nearest subway station was across the street from Simon's apartment, that wasn't going to do her a lot of good.
At Radek's curious look, Elizabeth explained, "The dryer's just been blowing air and I'm out of change." Resigned, she began pulling the clothes out and transferring them to another dryer. "I don't suppose you could keep an eye on these while I run back to my friend's apartment and get some more change?"
"Why run?" Radek asked, blinking innocently. "On the ice, you may fall. Walking, much safer."
"Oh, it's just an expression," Elizabeth said. "I meant I--" She caught his sly grin, however, and laughed. "You're good."
Radek shrugged. "I try to stay amused by the simple things in life. Much cheaper that way." He reached into his pocket, handing her a few quarters. "Here, please. There is no need to trouble yourself."
"Oh, you don't have to--" Elizabeth began, but Radek overrode her protest.
"Please, it is cold and I hate to see you have to waste time, especially with important interview in the morning." Radek pressed the coins into her hand. "I may not be rich, but I can afford this."
Elizabeth smiled. She was never going to let anyone bitch to her about the rudeness of New Yorkers again, even if he wasn't a native. He had been there long enough to get jaded if he had been so inclined. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Radek smiled, tossing his own clothes into an adjacent dryer. "I must say, I cannot regret the chance to enjoy your company awhile longer. It makes such a boring task far more bearable."
That it certainly did, Elizabeth had to admit, and it worked both ways. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was actually starting to enjoy herself; she could always catch a nap after the interview.
---------
The second time proved to be a charm for Elizabeth's clothes, and she was almost reluctant to fold them, put them in her suitcase, and be on her way, except Radek's load was done, too, and he'd be leaving as well. He insisted on walking her back to Simon's apartment, despite the fact that, given where he'd mentioned he lived, Elizabeth knew it was out of his way. "Please," he said, "it is late and I am sure you will be fine, but it will make me feel better to know you are safe." Chivalry, it seemed, was not dead after all. Simon would have done the same, Elizabeth knew, if he hadn't had to be out of bed at six am for a hospital rotation, but the fact that it was someone she barely knew made it feel that much more significant somehow. As she tumbled into bed--even if it was Simon's pull-out couch, burrowed beneath two heavy blankets and warm at last--Elizabeth couldn't help but wish she'd gotten Radek's phone number or last name or...something.
"People like that, you don't meet every day," Elizabeth told Simon over lunch the next afternoon. Her interview had gone well, and she thought she had a good chance of securing the internship position she was after.
Simon seemed less impressed, shrugging. "In New York, you do. Hell, you can meet all kinds of people in DC. I'm glad you had company, though, and it wasn't some psychopathic thug."
Elizabeth just shook her head. Chivalry may not have been dead, but some men still knew how to take the romance out of everything.
---------
Years later, Elizabeth found herself in Antarctica, heading up an international team, loving her job, and wondering if she would ever be warm again. Ironic, that someone who hated the cold so would end up in one of the coldest places on Earth. Even inside the complex, under layers of polar fleece, Elizabeth still felt the cold creeping under her skin. And, so, when she was asked to take a brief business trip to help Colonel Chekov talk a reluctant scientist into joining their research, Elizabeth jumped at the chance. Apparently, the man had some impressive theories on the use of crystals in computer technology, ideas that were ahead of his time and available technology. Elizabeth hadn't gotten the dossier yet, but if the rumors were true, she definitely wanted him--especially if Colonel Chekov was recommending him. Smoothing over the SGC and IOA's relations with Russia was never a bad idea. Besides, from where she was sitting near the South Pole, April in Moscow sounded sublime.
Chekov met Elizabeth when her plane landed, handing her a manila folder. "Some of the articles are in there, along with some of his information," he explained. "I'll explain on the way; we have another flight to catch."
"Oh?" Elizabeth was surprised; if they were going elsewhere in Russia, she'd have expected to take the train--unless privacy was the issue. That was entirely possible. "Am I allowed to ask where we're going?"
"Of course." Chekov smiled. "Prague. I hear it's lovely this time of year. It took me long enough to convince him over the telephone to even speak with you; he would not sign on for this project without meeting you in person."
"Prague?" Elizabeth echoed, flipping open the folder for a brief peek. "You're recommending a Czech national to me? He must really be something."
"He is," Chekov assured her, "and we're old friends. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss the circumstances of our meeting, but I assure you, it's always been an odd relationship."
"I can imagine." Elizabeth was definitely intrigued now--and no way was she turning down a chance to spend some time in Prague again, even if it was only a few hours. She'd spent three days there for a conference once and it had seemed too short. Beautiful city.
Elizabeth spent her time on the plane reading over the articles provided--like most of her scientists' articles, half of it went way over her head, but Dr. Radek Zelenka was most definitely onto something. He'd do well with Ancient technology, she suspected, even if he lacked the ATA gene. He wouldn't be alone; they only had a handful of carriers in Antarctica. Hopefully, the inoculation Carson Beckett was developing would get approval--and work. When Elizabeth flipped to the photo of her latest candidate, however, she paused. He looked painfully familiar, but she couldn't place him. Then, it came to her. The eyes were what did it. Radek. It was a popular Czech name. It couldn't be him, that man she'd met in the laundromat one night, before the interview that had landed her the internship that had gained her the attention of people who later recommended her to the SGC. That internship had changed her life. Radek? Maybe he hadn't changed it, but he'd definitely made it a little better that night, and that was nothing to scoff at. But...it couldn't be him.
Or maybe it could. Maybe her mind was making her see the man she'd met in that photograph, maybe the Radek Elizabeth had known was still in New York somewhere, but maybe it was him. Maybe there really was some cosmic force out there, pushing her toward him once again. After all, if a Russian military man was recommending a Czech professor to the program, how much more unlikely could it be that an American grad student had also met him one night, years ago? Some things were meant to be, and Elizabeth wasn't letting the romance escape from this one--in the purely literary sense of the term, of course.
He'd given her seventy-five cents and turned her night around. The least she could do in return was convince him not to give up on the opportunity of a lifetime. Sure, put like that, it seemed weighted in her favor, of who had given what, but Elizabeth had a feeling, with his talent, Radek would be tipping the scales again in no time. If he and Rodney McKay could unlock the secrets of Antarctica, they might even uncover the holy grail. They could find out what happened to Atlantis, impossible as it felt some days.
They might even discover Atlantis' location, have the opportunity to go there. Elizabeth couldn't help the thrill that rose up in her at that thought, the idea of possibly meeting actual Ancients, learning from them. Even if there weren't any ancients left in Atlantis, it would be well worth the trip. The potential benefit to humankind was obvious, given the Ancients' advances in technology, medicine, human understanding, everything.
If nothing else, Atlantis had to be warmer than Antarctica.
--End--
By Audrey Lynne
This, Elizabeth Weir decided, was without a doubt, the worst idea she'd ever had.
No, she amended a second later, washing her clothes in the sink would have been the worst idea she'd ever had. However, sitting in a twenty-four hour laundromat in a less than delightful neighborhood on the Lower East Side at two am? It had to be up there.
It was her own fault, really. Elizabeth had an interview in the morning at the UN, to see about a summer internship that could really jumpstart her career in diplomacy. However, she had been responsible for getting herself to New York City and finding lodging, and she was pretty much living on grants until she got her doctorate. They covered her tuition and books, as well as most of her living expenses, and her job took care of groceries and car payments, but there wasn't a lot left over. And, therefore, she had ended up getting on a Greyhound from Washington, DC to New York City and crashing at a friend's apartment.
Unfortunately, in the rush to pack, Elizabeth hadn't checked to ensure that her toiletry bag was fully zipped--she was just glad she'd remembered to bring it. Somewhere along the way, her shampoo had opened and spilled all over everything else in her bag, including the outfit she was wearing to the interview. Tomorrow. At ten am. She couldn't even borrow something from her friend, considering that Simon's wardrobe obviously wouldn't have been particularly flattering on her. Unless it was one of his shirts, early in the morning, but she wasn't going there. They'd met in an undergrad course, they'd spent a lot of time together until he had left for medical school in New York, and he had offered to let her spend a couple of days at his place because he was a genuinely nice guy. That was what Elizabeth kept telling herself. There were still nice guys in the world. He didn't want to jump her bones, despite the fact that she wouldn't have minded jumping his.
Why Elizabeth was constantly attracted to men she knew it would never work out with, she had no idea. Simon was nice, attractive, wonderful...but...they were both Type A personalities, driven people who would inevitably let their careers get in the way of whatever relationship they might have. Friendship was the best option for them. Logically, Elizabeth knew that; she just had to convince her heart it was true. In the meantime, it was probably best that they were several states apart, as neither was at all interested in a long-distance relationship.
At least Elizabeth had something to keep her distracted from those thoughts, even if it was less than ideal. She had gotten wrapped up in sightseeing most of the afternoon, then caught dinner and a movie with Simon. Elizabeth hadn't even opened her suitcase until nearly midnight, then discovered the mess. Simon was renting an apartment over a mom-and-pop grocery store, which meant the nearest washing machine was at the laundromat down the street. Which closed at ten. There was a twenty-four hour place a couple blocks away, however, and despite Simon's protests that Elizabeth really shouldn't run around by herself late at night in that neighborhood, Elizabeth had mace on her keychain and a basic understanding of self-defense. She had more of a problem with the fact that it was the middle of January, with snow on the ground and the temperature hovering around twenty degrees. It was cold.
Elizabeth had always hated the cold, and getting to the laundromat hadn't helped, as apparently, they didn't bother to run the heat all twenty-four hours the place was open. Being inside sheltered her from the wind, but it didn't help her warm up, and the coffee vending machine was broken. She rubbed her hands together, still in her gloves, and wished the heat from the dryer was enough to make a difference. It wasn't, really, but she could pretend it might be, and maybe she wouldn't feel the cold so much. Mind over matter and all that.
The door rattled, and Elizabeth jumped, watching it suspiciously. She wasn't paranoid, but staying alert never hurt anyone. The man that shuffled in, however, didn't appear to pose much of a threat, especially considering he was lugging a plastic bag stuffed full of clothes and a bottle of laundry soap. Elizabeth was glad for the company; even if he completely ignored her, it was another body in the place and she was no longer a lone, young female--albeit one who was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He glanced in her general direction, and she waved. "Glad to see I'm not the only one crazy enough to do laundry at two in the morning." There, she'd made the opening move of approachability. If he wanted to talk, the ice had been broken. If not, she'd go back to trying to read the book she hadn't been able to concentrate on because her fingers were achy from the cold.
He looked at her for a moment, as if surprised she was speaking to him, then smiled almost shyly. "Yes, well, with my schedule, is only time, I have, really." His accent was Eastern European, even though Elizabeth couldn't place it exactly, and while his English was good, he spoke with the hesitance of a non-native speaker who wasn't entirely comfortable with the language yet. Elizabeth could understand that. Russian had been a bitch for her to pick up and she still wasn't entirely sure a five-year-old native speaker couldn't have left her in the dust.
"I understand that." Elizabeth grinned. "I hope you don't find it too forward, but...your accent is lovely. Where are you from, originally?"
"Ah...thank you." He emptied his bag into a washer near the one Elizabeth was sitting on. She could have had a chair, but they were right by the door, which didn't shut all the way. "I came here from Prague."
Elizabeth grinned. She'd thought the accent might have been Czech, but she hadn't wanted to guess and risk offending him if she were wrong. "I've always wanted to see Prague."
"Oh, you should. It is a beautiful city." His eyes lit up behind his glasses as he talked about it. "Of course, I am somewhat biased."
"You're allowed," Elizabeth assured him with a laugh. "I'd go in a heartbeat, but...you know, poor graduate student."
He nodded. "Ah, yes, this I understand. Otherwise, I might be back there myself. This country has been good to me, but...it isn't home."
Elizabeth had always been a language geek--part of why she'd learned four so far and was starting on a fifth next semester--and she caught the "isn't." If he was using contractions, he probably had a better handle on the language than his confidence suggested. But, then, given the number of people in America who unfortunately automatically equated an accent with an inability to speak English at all, she wasn't entirely surprised. "I hear you." As much as she would have loved to spend time living abroad, she couldn't imagine herself not wanting to come home to Georgetown. "So what brought you here?" She had her suspicions, given that it had been less than a decade since the Soviets left Czechoslovakia and even less than that since the Czech Republic and Slovakia had re-established themselves as independent countries, but Elizabeth didn't like to assume. For all she knew, he had left home after the Revolution.
He paused long enough to dig a handful of quarters out of his pocket and start the washer, then poured a capful of soap in and shut the lid. As he moved to sit atop the washer as well, he told Elizabeth, "The Soviets, they were particular enough about who they let attend university, but they were even more so when it came to new ideas. I had to find a country that knew freedom if I wished for my ideas to be given any genuine consideration. It took some doing, but I had a few connections that fortunately allowed me to come to this country, study at NYU." He was contemplative for a long moment. "When I left Prague, I knew I might not be able to return. I do not wish to sound ungrateful for the opportunity I have found here, but now that my country is free and I have completed my education, it is easier to miss home."
"It's okay; I understand," Elizabeth said, nodding. "There's nothing wrong with holding onto your roots, as long as you don't let it get in the way of the life you've got now." It didn't look like he had at first glance, but what did Elizabeth know? She'd only met the guy five minutes ago.
He laughed. "Listen to me, unloading my life story on you, and I don't even know your name."
"Elizabeth," she supplied, extending a hand.
He smiled, shaking it, and Elizabeth noticed he hadn't taken off his gloves either. Not that it meant anything, really, but it made her feel like less of a wimp about the cold. "I'm Radek. Lovely to meet you."
"You too." Elizabeth grinned. "Is it freezing in here or is it just me?"
"Oh, no, it is, for sure." Radek frowned. "You would think I would be used to it. Winter in Prague is often no delight, either, but I have never liked the cold."
"You and me both," Elizabeth commiserated. "When I was growing up, my father would have run the air conditioner in a blizzard if we'd let him. Me, if I'm hot, everyone else has probably been broiling for awhile."
Radek smiled back at her. "My sister and I were both like that. When we were young, she used to crawl into bed with me at night so it would be warmer."
They continued to chat as Radek's clothes washed and Elizabeth's tumbled in the dryer, and while the room didn't get any warmer, at least it was a pleasant distraction. Elizabeth's book had been one she'd picked up at the bus station's gift shop, anyhow, and it wasn't very good. Timing was on their side, and Elizabeth's dryer slowed to a stop about the same time the washer Radek was using finished its final spin cycle. "Well, that's not gonna happen again," Elizabeth chuckled as she opened the dryer. Oddly, while it was warmer than the rest of the place, there was no draft of hot--or even warm--air when she opened the door. Her clothes were nicely tossed, but still wet. "Shit." She rolled her eyes. The company was lovely, but she really didn't want to spend another forty-five minutes sitting around waiting for her clothes. And, furthermore, at Simon's insistence, she had brought only the money she needed to wash and dry a load, so she didn't have any more change on her, just a subway token. Considering that the nearest subway station was across the street from Simon's apartment, that wasn't going to do her a lot of good.
At Radek's curious look, Elizabeth explained, "The dryer's just been blowing air and I'm out of change." Resigned, she began pulling the clothes out and transferring them to another dryer. "I don't suppose you could keep an eye on these while I run back to my friend's apartment and get some more change?"
"Why run?" Radek asked, blinking innocently. "On the ice, you may fall. Walking, much safer."
"Oh, it's just an expression," Elizabeth said. "I meant I--" She caught his sly grin, however, and laughed. "You're good."
Radek shrugged. "I try to stay amused by the simple things in life. Much cheaper that way." He reached into his pocket, handing her a few quarters. "Here, please. There is no need to trouble yourself."
"Oh, you don't have to--" Elizabeth began, but Radek overrode her protest.
"Please, it is cold and I hate to see you have to waste time, especially with important interview in the morning." Radek pressed the coins into her hand. "I may not be rich, but I can afford this."
Elizabeth smiled. She was never going to let anyone bitch to her about the rudeness of New Yorkers again, even if he wasn't a native. He had been there long enough to get jaded if he had been so inclined. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Radek smiled, tossing his own clothes into an adjacent dryer. "I must say, I cannot regret the chance to enjoy your company awhile longer. It makes such a boring task far more bearable."
That it certainly did, Elizabeth had to admit, and it worked both ways. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was actually starting to enjoy herself; she could always catch a nap after the interview.
---------
The second time proved to be a charm for Elizabeth's clothes, and she was almost reluctant to fold them, put them in her suitcase, and be on her way, except Radek's load was done, too, and he'd be leaving as well. He insisted on walking her back to Simon's apartment, despite the fact that, given where he'd mentioned he lived, Elizabeth knew it was out of his way. "Please," he said, "it is late and I am sure you will be fine, but it will make me feel better to know you are safe." Chivalry, it seemed, was not dead after all. Simon would have done the same, Elizabeth knew, if he hadn't had to be out of bed at six am for a hospital rotation, but the fact that it was someone she barely knew made it feel that much more significant somehow. As she tumbled into bed--even if it was Simon's pull-out couch, burrowed beneath two heavy blankets and warm at last--Elizabeth couldn't help but wish she'd gotten Radek's phone number or last name or...something.
"People like that, you don't meet every day," Elizabeth told Simon over lunch the next afternoon. Her interview had gone well, and she thought she had a good chance of securing the internship position she was after.
Simon seemed less impressed, shrugging. "In New York, you do. Hell, you can meet all kinds of people in DC. I'm glad you had company, though, and it wasn't some psychopathic thug."
Elizabeth just shook her head. Chivalry may not have been dead, but some men still knew how to take the romance out of everything.
---------
Years later, Elizabeth found herself in Antarctica, heading up an international team, loving her job, and wondering if she would ever be warm again. Ironic, that someone who hated the cold so would end up in one of the coldest places on Earth. Even inside the complex, under layers of polar fleece, Elizabeth still felt the cold creeping under her skin. And, so, when she was asked to take a brief business trip to help Colonel Chekov talk a reluctant scientist into joining their research, Elizabeth jumped at the chance. Apparently, the man had some impressive theories on the use of crystals in computer technology, ideas that were ahead of his time and available technology. Elizabeth hadn't gotten the dossier yet, but if the rumors were true, she definitely wanted him--especially if Colonel Chekov was recommending him. Smoothing over the SGC and IOA's relations with Russia was never a bad idea. Besides, from where she was sitting near the South Pole, April in Moscow sounded sublime.
Chekov met Elizabeth when her plane landed, handing her a manila folder. "Some of the articles are in there, along with some of his information," he explained. "I'll explain on the way; we have another flight to catch."
"Oh?" Elizabeth was surprised; if they were going elsewhere in Russia, she'd have expected to take the train--unless privacy was the issue. That was entirely possible. "Am I allowed to ask where we're going?"
"Of course." Chekov smiled. "Prague. I hear it's lovely this time of year. It took me long enough to convince him over the telephone to even speak with you; he would not sign on for this project without meeting you in person."
"Prague?" Elizabeth echoed, flipping open the folder for a brief peek. "You're recommending a Czech national to me? He must really be something."
"He is," Chekov assured her, "and we're old friends. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss the circumstances of our meeting, but I assure you, it's always been an odd relationship."
"I can imagine." Elizabeth was definitely intrigued now--and no way was she turning down a chance to spend some time in Prague again, even if it was only a few hours. She'd spent three days there for a conference once and it had seemed too short. Beautiful city.
Elizabeth spent her time on the plane reading over the articles provided--like most of her scientists' articles, half of it went way over her head, but Dr. Radek Zelenka was most definitely onto something. He'd do well with Ancient technology, she suspected, even if he lacked the ATA gene. He wouldn't be alone; they only had a handful of carriers in Antarctica. Hopefully, the inoculation Carson Beckett was developing would get approval--and work. When Elizabeth flipped to the photo of her latest candidate, however, she paused. He looked painfully familiar, but she couldn't place him. Then, it came to her. The eyes were what did it. Radek. It was a popular Czech name. It couldn't be him, that man she'd met in the laundromat one night, before the interview that had landed her the internship that had gained her the attention of people who later recommended her to the SGC. That internship had changed her life. Radek? Maybe he hadn't changed it, but he'd definitely made it a little better that night, and that was nothing to scoff at. But...it couldn't be him.
Or maybe it could. Maybe her mind was making her see the man she'd met in that photograph, maybe the Radek Elizabeth had known was still in New York somewhere, but maybe it was him. Maybe there really was some cosmic force out there, pushing her toward him once again. After all, if a Russian military man was recommending a Czech professor to the program, how much more unlikely could it be that an American grad student had also met him one night, years ago? Some things were meant to be, and Elizabeth wasn't letting the romance escape from this one--in the purely literary sense of the term, of course.
He'd given her seventy-five cents and turned her night around. The least she could do in return was convince him not to give up on the opportunity of a lifetime. Sure, put like that, it seemed weighted in her favor, of who had given what, but Elizabeth had a feeling, with his talent, Radek would be tipping the scales again in no time. If he and Rodney McKay could unlock the secrets of Antarctica, they might even uncover the holy grail. They could find out what happened to Atlantis, impossible as it felt some days.
They might even discover Atlantis' location, have the opportunity to go there. Elizabeth couldn't help the thrill that rose up in her at that thought, the idea of possibly meeting actual Ancients, learning from them. Even if there weren't any ancients left in Atlantis, it would be well worth the trip. The potential benefit to humankind was obvious, given the Ancients' advances in technology, medicine, human understanding, everything.
If nothing else, Atlantis had to be warmer than Antarctica.
--End--