Fic: Enlightenment (SGA Weir/Zelenka PG)
Title: Enlightenment
Author: tigerlady (shetiger)
Genre: Het
Pairing: Weir/Zelenka
Rating: PG
Summary: She doesn't know why she underestimated him.
Elizabeth breathes deeply, drawing in the salt and living green smell of the ocean. It fills her up, pushes down her panic as it always does. She can't see the water from here-only a black expanse that blends in with the shadows of the city-but she can hear it, and smell it, and that is enough. Enough that she can admit to herself that she truly underestimated him, and that freaks her out a little bit.
"Are you coming in, Elizabeth?"
His words are quiet, but there's a strength behind them that seeks to pull her inside, into his quarters beyond. Perhaps it's the way he says her name, rolling and drawn out like he weighs each syllable. She can't quite remember why she decided it was a good idea to let him use her given name. Something about fairness and team-building, and that it was the right thing to do.
She misjudged the effect of her name on his lips. Elizabeth never guessed that he would save her proper name for the quiet moments when they were the only ones to hear. Never guessed that the rumble of his voice over those intimate syllables would make her want to shiver, no matter how warm she felt inside.
"In a moment," she calls out. She sees him nod in the shadows, then step back towards the candlelight.
Elizabeth isn't sure why she underestimated him so completely. It's her job, after all, to be perceptive. She picked every single member of this expedition, read all of their resumes and conducted extensive interviews. She knew he was brilliant; besides the extensive curriculum vita there is also Rodney's regard. She knew he was gentle and witty; his personality had come across strongly in that first interview, and she can remember thinking that they might become friends. But even with all that knowledge, Radek has managed to surprise her time and time again.
She looks out into the night, searching the barren dark as if it were the key to the Ancients, rather than the city beneath her feet. The stars are barely visible beyond the shimmer of the shield. She wonders if there's a shooting star up there, somewhere, waiting for a wish. It's better that she can't see, because she has no idea what she would wish for.
Radek stirs behind her, and she knows that she has to gather her courage and face him. Elizabeth turns and they exchange soft smiles. He lets her brush by without speaking, letting her hold the silence just a little longer.
The small room glows from the warm light of the fat yellow candles. Radek has loaded the squat table with a feast, though she's not sure what the menu is. It smells good, regardless.
"It is not much," he says, right behind her, so close that she can feel the heat of his body. "But I think we are both used to that by now."
She turns her head just enough to let him see her smile, and she can see the way his lips lift just enough to be wryly self-deprecating, though his eyes are full of confidence. "It looks wonderful." His smile widens, and she wonders how she ever underestimated him. "Thank you," she says impulsively, moved by gratitude for more than just a meal.
"You are very welcome," he says, then pulls out one of the oddly-curved Atlantean chairs.
Radek's eyes are shining above the rim of his glasses, contrasting beautifully with the maroon button-up shirt he's wearing. It's open at the throat, and she tries not to stare at the bit of chest that shows. She's insanely grateful that she actually finds the chair instead of falling on her butt.
They were half a year into this crazy adventure when she first suspected he was interested in her, but she brushed it off as a work-place crush. They were co-workers in a highly stressful situation. Such feelings are natural, but she has always felt that it is better to ignore them until they fade away.
She admits she may have miscalculated.
"Would you like some...," he pauses to peer at the glass bottle in his hands. "I believe it is supposed to be wine, but I make no guarantees."
She laughs lightly. "Just a little," she tells him, and he pours the dark liquid into the hand-thrown mugs. The table is a bounty of Athosian artistry, and she wonders if he obtained it just for this evening, or if he has been collecting the beautiful things gradually. Elizabeth wonders what he traded for them. Wonders whether he has some hidden talent, or if he simply assisted with manual labor as most of the others do. The vision is stunningly clear; Radek in the green fields, squinting under the bright Atlantean sun, the muscles in his shoulders flexing with the work as he shares a joke with one of the Athosians.
She reaches for her wine to cover the blush rising in her cheeks. It is tart but not dry, fruitier than she used to drink. As the alcohol burns against the back of her throat, she thinks maybe she has been pulling the wool over her own eyes. For so long, even before she left Earth, she mourned Simon. There was no room in her heart for anyone else, and so she didn't see what was right in front of her.
Radek lifts the lid off of one of the clay pots, steam rising up with a spicy scent. She laughs as his glasses fog.
"What, it is not a good look for me?"
She laughs again when he takes off his glasses and squints at her while he polishes them with a scrap of cloth. As he smiles and tips them back on his face, she realizes that she has relaxed. Radek makes her laugh, and he makes her heart speed, and the way he looks at her makes her tingle in just the right way. Elizabeth takes another sip of her wine, liking the way he stares at her mouth.
She flicks her tongue across her lips, reaching for the drop of dampness. Radek swallows.
Elizabeth thinks maybe he has underestimated her as well.
Author: tigerlady (shetiger)
Genre: Het
Pairing: Weir/Zelenka
Rating: PG
Summary: She doesn't know why she underestimated him.
Elizabeth breathes deeply, drawing in the salt and living green smell of the ocean. It fills her up, pushes down her panic as it always does. She can't see the water from here-only a black expanse that blends in with the shadows of the city-but she can hear it, and smell it, and that is enough. Enough that she can admit to herself that she truly underestimated him, and that freaks her out a little bit.
"Are you coming in, Elizabeth?"
His words are quiet, but there's a strength behind them that seeks to pull her inside, into his quarters beyond. Perhaps it's the way he says her name, rolling and drawn out like he weighs each syllable. She can't quite remember why she decided it was a good idea to let him use her given name. Something about fairness and team-building, and that it was the right thing to do.
She misjudged the effect of her name on his lips. Elizabeth never guessed that he would save her proper name for the quiet moments when they were the only ones to hear. Never guessed that the rumble of his voice over those intimate syllables would make her want to shiver, no matter how warm she felt inside.
"In a moment," she calls out. She sees him nod in the shadows, then step back towards the candlelight.
Elizabeth isn't sure why she underestimated him so completely. It's her job, after all, to be perceptive. She picked every single member of this expedition, read all of their resumes and conducted extensive interviews. She knew he was brilliant; besides the extensive curriculum vita there is also Rodney's regard. She knew he was gentle and witty; his personality had come across strongly in that first interview, and she can remember thinking that they might become friends. But even with all that knowledge, Radek has managed to surprise her time and time again.
She looks out into the night, searching the barren dark as if it were the key to the Ancients, rather than the city beneath her feet. The stars are barely visible beyond the shimmer of the shield. She wonders if there's a shooting star up there, somewhere, waiting for a wish. It's better that she can't see, because she has no idea what she would wish for.
Radek stirs behind her, and she knows that she has to gather her courage and face him. Elizabeth turns and they exchange soft smiles. He lets her brush by without speaking, letting her hold the silence just a little longer.
The small room glows from the warm light of the fat yellow candles. Radek has loaded the squat table with a feast, though she's not sure what the menu is. It smells good, regardless.
"It is not much," he says, right behind her, so close that she can feel the heat of his body. "But I think we are both used to that by now."
She turns her head just enough to let him see her smile, and she can see the way his lips lift just enough to be wryly self-deprecating, though his eyes are full of confidence. "It looks wonderful." His smile widens, and she wonders how she ever underestimated him. "Thank you," she says impulsively, moved by gratitude for more than just a meal.
"You are very welcome," he says, then pulls out one of the oddly-curved Atlantean chairs.
Radek's eyes are shining above the rim of his glasses, contrasting beautifully with the maroon button-up shirt he's wearing. It's open at the throat, and she tries not to stare at the bit of chest that shows. She's insanely grateful that she actually finds the chair instead of falling on her butt.
They were half a year into this crazy adventure when she first suspected he was interested in her, but she brushed it off as a work-place crush. They were co-workers in a highly stressful situation. Such feelings are natural, but she has always felt that it is better to ignore them until they fade away.
She admits she may have miscalculated.
"Would you like some...," he pauses to peer at the glass bottle in his hands. "I believe it is supposed to be wine, but I make no guarantees."
She laughs lightly. "Just a little," she tells him, and he pours the dark liquid into the hand-thrown mugs. The table is a bounty of Athosian artistry, and she wonders if he obtained it just for this evening, or if he has been collecting the beautiful things gradually. Elizabeth wonders what he traded for them. Wonders whether he has some hidden talent, or if he simply assisted with manual labor as most of the others do. The vision is stunningly clear; Radek in the green fields, squinting under the bright Atlantean sun, the muscles in his shoulders flexing with the work as he shares a joke with one of the Athosians.
She reaches for her wine to cover the blush rising in her cheeks. It is tart but not dry, fruitier than she used to drink. As the alcohol burns against the back of her throat, she thinks maybe she has been pulling the wool over her own eyes. For so long, even before she left Earth, she mourned Simon. There was no room in her heart for anyone else, and so she didn't see what was right in front of her.
Radek lifts the lid off of one of the clay pots, steam rising up with a spicy scent. She laughs as his glasses fog.
"What, it is not a good look for me?"
She laughs again when he takes off his glasses and squints at her while he polishes them with a scrap of cloth. As he smiles and tips them back on his face, she realizes that she has relaxed. Radek makes her laugh, and he makes her heart speed, and the way he looks at her makes her tingle in just the right way. Elizabeth takes another sip of her wine, liking the way he stares at her mouth.
She flicks her tongue across her lips, reaching for the drop of dampness. Radek swallows.
Elizabeth thinks maybe he has underestimated her as well.