Fic: The Pacific Rim, Chapter 3

[melyanna]

When Donna brought the jacket in for Teyla, the First Lady invited her to stay, but the assistant politely declined, saying she really needed to sleep. So it turned out to be Abbey, John, and Elizabeth sitting up for hours as they attempted to acclimate themselves to Sydney time.

The major, on top of being quite, quite easy on the eyes, was an easy conversationalist, and he spent most of the few hours Abbey spent in the room entertaining her and Doctor Weir with tales of his military career. The affability he displayed with them seemed to be the cause of most of his little adventures. Of course, when Abbey asked him why he and Elizabeth were working together now, the answer was evasive and charming. Clearly, they were up to their necks in classified operations.

Elizabeth was the first to pass out from exhaustion, and Abbey left not long after that, passing her daughter Zoey on the way back to the apartment where she hoped Jed was sleeping. It was a futile hope, however, because her husband was sitting under a lamp reading.

“Ah, the prodigal wife returns,” he said, setting his book aside. “Debbie told me you were just going to tell C. J. that you wanted to take those civilians with the research team shopping.”

“Well,” Abbey replied, heading to the closet to get her pajamas, “I decided to sit around and talk with them. You’ll be happy to know that Elizabeth Weir is just as charming as you thought she was when you met her.”

“‘Charming’ was not the word I used, Abbey,” said Jed. “‘Overzealous, idealistic brat’ was probably more like it.”

“You thought she was charming, Jed, and you know it.” Abbey headed into the bathroom, still talking. “You wouldn’t have cared that she was an overzealous brat if you didn’t like her.”

“Yeah, I did,” he called from the other room. “But at first it was because she wasn’t afraid of arguing with me.”

“Whatever.” Abbey came back out of the bathroom. “I don’t know what top-secret stuff she’s got her hands in now, but that Air Force major she’s got with her is very cute.”

“I love hearing you talk about younger men.”

“Very handsome,” she continued, walking over to his chair, “and charming.”

“That’s the sixth time you’ve used that word tonight.”

“Third, Jed,” she corrected. He looked up at her, and she leaned down to kiss him. “And he was. They both were, right up until the point where Doctor Weir fell asleep.”

“I sent Zoey to talk with her,” Jed replied.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll find ample reason to stay in there if Major Sheppard is still awake.” Abbey walked over to the bed and turned the covers down. “I’m running away with him, Jed.”

“I’ll take Elizabeth, then, if she’s as charming as you say I think she is.”

“It’s funny, though. I’m not sure we could possibly pry them apart.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Jed put his book down and stood. “Aren’t there regulations against that?”

Abbey looked up at him sharply, a little surprised. “Well, I don’t know exactly what they’re doing that would put Air Force regulations into effect as far as their personal relationship goes,” she replied. “But aren’t you the man who said we shouldn’t be in the business of defining love?”

“Yeah, well, that didn’t involve the United States Air Force.”

“Come to bed.”

He did as he was told, settling into bed next to her and turning off the lamp on his side. “You said Elizabeth was asleep?”

“Yeah. John was the only one still up.”

“And I sent my daughter down there?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sending Ron after her.”

“Go to sleep, Jed.”

Zoey Bartlet stood at the door of the staff cabin, wondering if there was any way she could possibly get out of this without her father finding out that she hadn’t actually talked with Doctor Weir. Of course, she knew there wasn’t a way. Her father was insane like that. If she tried to back out of it, she knew he would ask her old instructor about their conversation and would find out there hadn’t been one.

She slipped inside quietly, knowing that it was entirely likely that people were sleeping. But when she got in, she found that there was only one officer in dress uniform still awake. He had opened his jacket and was in the process of taking off his tie when she got in.

“Hi,” Zoey said. “I was looking for Doctor Weir.”

“She’s asleep,” the man said, pointing at the dark-haired woman, curled up in a chair. He looked like he’d never heard of a comb or a razor, but he certainly looked good anyway. “I’d wake her, but she hasn’t slept for almost twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” She smiled. “I guess I ought to introduce myself. I’m Zoey Bartlet.”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking the hand she’d offered. “John Sheppard.”

“You’re in the Air Force?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you a pilot?”

He nodded. “Mostly a helicopter pilot.”

“That’s pretty cool.” She stood there awkwardly for a minute. “Well, hey, it was nice to meet you, but you look pretty tired. I should probably go.”

“You look bored,” said the officer. “My bet is that there’s no one else on the plane who’s awake.”

“Well, there’s probably some reporters awake, but I try to avoid them.” She folded her arms across her stomach. “How long has it been since you slept?”

“About as long as it’s been since Doctor Weir slept. I don’t sleep well on airplanes, so I just stay awake until I can’t anymore.” He finally set his tie down on an end table. “How do you know Doctor Weir, Zoey?”

“I was in one of her classes at Georgetown,” she replied. “International Relations in the Twenty-First Century. I was in way over my head in that one.”

John sat down in a chair and gestured vaguely for Zoey to join him. “What was she like as a teacher?”

She sat down in the empty chair next to him. “Evil,” she replied. “Pure evil. We had a paper due every week, mock negotiations, formal debates. It was awful.”

“You know, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“I think my Secret Service agents got more out of it than I did,” Zoey continued. “But she really knew her stuff. I guess that comes with being a UN diplomat.” She glanced over at the sleeping woman. “I don’t know if I would have recognized her, though.”

John frowned. “It wasn’t that long ago, was it?”

“No,” Zoey said, laughing a little. “She had blonde hair then. She looks really different with dark hair. But it looks nice.”

“So what did you get in the class?”

“A C.” Zoey smiled at him. “Dad was furious. Doctor Weir was the only teacher I had who gave me a C.”

John was staring at Doctor Weir as she slept. “Her dad was a Cabinet secretary,” he said. “Politicians don’t scare her much.”

“Of course not. She is one.”

“That’s true. And at the risk of being court-martialed or something,” he added, “I can’t really see Elizabeth giving you a grade you didn’t earn. Did you deserve an A?”

Zoey laughed. “No.”

He grinned. “Then don’t complain.”

“I’m not complaining!” she protested. “Just. . . stating fact.”

“Good.”

“So how do you know her?” she asked. “I mean, Doctor Weir’s position on the military is pretty well-known.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, “I’ve been accompanying her on some high-level negotiations.”

“Why? I thought you said you were a pilot.”

“There have been concerns that she doesn’t take military matters into consideration enough.” He shifted in his seat.

“John,” Zoey began. “Can I call you John?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, John,” she continued. “You know that you can just tell me it’s classified, right?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “No, really,” she insisted. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Okay, so we didn’t have a cover story ready to go on this one,” he said. “We weren’t expecting the media, or the President’s daughter, for that matter.”

“Well, I’m speaking solely from experience with the press here,” she replied, “but you might want to find a better cover story.”

“Thanks for the safety tip.”

“You’re welcome.” Zoey stood up. “You probably ought to sleep. It’s a long flight.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, hey, maybe I can stop by later with a movie,” she suggested. “I brought a few along.”

“That’d be great.”

She headed to the door, but John stopped her. “Hey, Zoey?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you take the class?”

She rested her hand on the doorknob. “Dad wanted me to,” she said. “He said that Doctor Weir was a good role model for anyone.”

“Was she?”

He leaned over to look at her behind the chair. “Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “Yeah, she was.”

Elizabeth awoke some hours later, when it was bright outside and they were over water. By then the only person still in the cabin was John, who was sleeping on the other side of the room. She sat quietly for a while, reading material which had been brought for her and the others. It had been a long time since she’d had a chance to read a newspaper. It felt good to have that ink on her fingers.

John awoke with a start sometime later, though Elizabeth couldn’t discern what had woken him. “Bad dream?” she asked, turning a page in the paper.

“No, just a weird-” He looked at her suddenly. “No.”

He fell back against the seat and rubbed at his eyes. “How late were you up?” Elizabeth asked.

“The First Lady left after you fell asleep,” John replied. “Then Zoey Bartlet came in.”

“Zoey Bartlet came in?” she repeated. “Why?”

“To see her favorite teacher in the whole world.”

“Her father ordered her, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.” He yawned. “She’s a cute kid, though.”

“She’s also out of college, so she’s not exactly a kid.”

“Were you really a blonde once?”

Elizabeth set the newspaper aside. “Yes, before I took the post at the SGC,” she replied. “I’ve about decided that Colonel Carter didn’t like me because I looked too much like her.”

He stood up stiffly. “Colonel Carter didn’t like you because she’s a-”

“John.” Her tone drew his attention immediately. He clearly caught her meaning. What she didn’t say was that she was fairly certain she agreed with him, though his opinion of the colonel was derived almost entirely from Carter’s treatment of Elizabeth during their stay on Earth thus far.

He rubbed his jaw, which called Elizabeth’s attention to his rather pronounced five o’clock shadow. “Didn’t you shave yesterday?”

“Once.”

She looked at him oddly. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Well, apparently not,” he replied. “You think I need to shave again?”

“No, I think you needed to shave yesterday.”

He sighed and picked up his bag. “Come on,” he said, pulling her out of her chair and leading her by the hand out of the room.

He led her to one of the plane’s bathrooms, where he insisted that she stand there and watch him shave so she’d have proof that he’d actually done it. It was a very boring process, though John apparently amused himself by singing to himself. It was during the fourth rendition of the Scooby Doo theme, however, that things got interesting. Had Elizabeth not seen Danny Concannon’s face in the mirror, she might have jumped three feet when he whispered, “Having fun, Liz?”

“It was more fun before you showed up, Danny,” she said smoothly.

“Come for a walk with me,” he replied, grabbing her by the arm and walking off with her.

They were a few feet from the bathroom before she spoke. “Aren’t you supposed to be confined to the press cabin?” she asked.

“The President wants me to do a piece on globalization,” he said. “I just came from his office and saw you there with the good major.”

“What do you need from me?”

“Are you dating him?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “What is it about you? Is your brain wired differently so you ask idiotic questions like that?”

Danny took a step closer. “You were all chummy with him.”

“I’m all chummy with you right now,” she replied, “and I’m certainly not dating you.”

“I could fix that.”

“Danny, I have friends with guns.”

“Yeah, and that’s what I don’t get,” he said. “Why are you hanging around with an Air Force clown like him?”

“John Sheppard happens to be a highly gifted pilot,” Elizabeth said.

“And he’s part of the military establishment,” Danny replied. “You used to rail against the military, and don’t tell me you grew out of it. I was at the last lecture you gave. It wasn’t that long ago.”

“He’s not-”

“Don’t lie to me, Elizabeth,” he interrupted. “I know you better than this. The guy was in Antarctica! How much more establishment can you get?”

“Danny,” Elizabeth said, taking a deep breath, “you’re in way over your head on this one.”

“I’m a tall guy.”

“Not tall enough.”

“I never was tall enough for you, was I? I won a Pulitzer, Elizabeth. I broke Shareef.”

Elizabeth sighed. “What do you want from me, Danny?”

He paused. “You broke up with me when I stopped letting you straighten my ties.”

“I broke up with you because you used me,” she said. “It nearly cost me my career.”

“You can do better than this guy.”

“Danny, for the last time-”

“Elizabeth?”

She turned around, and to her great relief, John was standing there, in full uniform and cleanly shaved. “Is he bothering you?” he asked.

“No, we were just finishing up our little discussion,” she said, looking at Danny.

She walked away, with John at her side, his hand on the small of her back as they walked through a door. She looked over her shoulder and saw Danny where she’d left him, a wry smile on his face.

Sometime later, when it became apparent that reading newspapers was not going to soothe her, Elizabeth went for another walk. It was accompanied by a disapproving look from John, but she had to do something. This time, she steered clear of the press cabin.

Despite being a comfortable ride, Air Force One had only so much room in which to wander. A couple of times she passed the same group of people who were clearly drafting a speech for the President. The second time, the man standing in the middle with a stack of papers in his hand looked at her oddly.

That time, when she reached the end of her circuit, a door opened, and Abbey Bartlet stood on the other side. “Elizabeth,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Abbey,” Elizabeth replied. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Nonsense,” said Abbey. “Why don’t you come inside?” When Elizabeth wavered, the First Lady said, “Don’t worry. Reporters aren’t allowed back here. And Zoey’s hiding from you, I think.”

“I don’t see why,” Elizabeth said, stepping into the plane’s apartment.

“She’s afraid her father will make you give her a pop quiz or something.” Abbey gestured to a sofa. “I heard you had a bit of a problem with a reporter earlier.”

The diplomat didn’t ask how Abbey knew that, as she’d learned from years of lobbying and negotiating that news spread, and when it was a private disagreement like the one she’d had with Danny, it spread faster. “Danny Concannon wanted some answers,” she said.

“Really,” said Abbey, sitting at the other end. “You know, I remember you showing up to a few parties with him years ago.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, wondering how - or why - the older woman remembered this stuff. “I lived with him for about three minutes. That was back when I was stupid.”

“Elizabeth, no one believes that you were ever stupid,” she replied. “After all, you did manage not to marry him.”

“There’s a reason why Danny’s still single, Abbey.”

Abbey smiled. “Is there a reason why you’re still single?”

“Why don’t you stick with marrying off your own daughters?”

“Jed won’t let me.”

“There’s a good chance my father wouldn’t let you either.”

Abbey smiled and stood, walking to a small table where a glass pitcher was situated. “Water?”

“Yes, please.”

A few moments later Abbey brought two glasses over and handed one to Elizabeth. “That officer with you is very cute,” she said, quite casually.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Abbey, with all due respect, you’re terrible.”

“Why shouldn’t I wonder?” Abbey asked. “An intelligent, attractive woman like you deserves to have a man at her beck and call.”

“John Sheppard would never succumb to that.”

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

Elizabeth sipped at her water. “You have no shame.”

“That’s what my daughters keep telling me. Of course, I tell them that I brought them into this world by the sweat of my brow, so I ought to get to embarrass them as much as possible.”

“But I’m not your daughter.”

“Technicality.” Abbey turned to face her. “Elizabeth, is it possible that you’re in command of some sort of military operation?”

She looked down at her glass. “I can’t divulge that information.”

“But you’re in charge of some military personnel?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Mostly Marines, and John.”

Abbey shook her head. “Must be quite a change for you.”

“Yes, it is,” Elizabeth replied. “I’m used to doublespeak. I’m used to deciphering messages that people can’t say for whatever reason. I’m used to people with agendas.” She shook her head. “These people aren’t like that.”

“Refreshing, isn’t it?”

She laughed softly. “Truthfully? It scared the hell out of me at first.”

“Oh, those were the days,” said Abbey. “You know, I miss being a doctor. I miss being able to say things and mean it most of the time. Is it as nice as I remember?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, it really is.”

In one of Air Force One’s conference rooms, Sam Carter sat alone with General Hammond. It was dark in the room, lit only by small lights embedded in the ceiling above the tables. It was all a far cry from the SGC.

Hammond closed the folder before him. Sam had just finished briefing him on the state of the galaxy, as far as they, the Tok’ra, and the Jaffa knew. “Thank you, Colonel,” he said. “It’s always nice to hear about these things in person.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course, there’s another reason I asked Jack to send you to Washington,” he continued. “I want your opinion on the fitness of the Atlantis expedition.”

“Well, sir,” she said, “I haven’t been around them that much, but from the reports I’ve read, they’ve done a tremendous job under impossible circumstances.”

“A lot of lives have been lost.”

“I think a lot of lives would have been lost no matter the personnel.”

Hammond sat back in his chair. “Then you know what I’m getting at.”

“Doctor Weir’s ability to command?” Sam asked.

“Got it in one, Colonel.”

“I’m not sure which is the problem, sir,” she replied, “Doctor Weir or Major Sheppard.”

“You’re referring to the incident with the viral outbreak.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam nodded. “Neither one of them was right in that situation, though it seems that both got past whatever issues were going on then. Sheppard seems to have accepted her decisions, and Weir doesn’t seem quite so opposed to military options as all of us feared. These records of how she handled the siege are pretty extraordinary.”

“Do you think a new military commander for Atlantis is in order?” he asked.

“The threats aren’t as severe as they once were,” Sam replied. “And with so many civilians in the city, it would be difficult for them to accept a military commander. They trust Weir.”

“But Sheppard?”

“Sheppard’s a loose cannon, but Weir seems to know how to handle him.”

“Well, thanks again, Colonel,” Hammond said. “When we land, you and the Atlantis representatives will have a day or so to relax and readjust to local time, and then you’ll be meeting with myself and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. I look forward to your contributions there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Chapter Two | Chapter Four