(no subject)
Title: Wonder
Author: Writerrising
Beta: angelqueen04 :)
Rating:PG
Spoilers: None, it's entirely AU
Summary: Elizabeth wonders.
He’s handsome, there’s no denying that. He’s charming too, in an awkward sort of way. That surprised me a little, the awkwardness. I’ve made him stumble over his words more than once. Who knew a man who draws a gun like it’s an extension of his body could stumble over anything?
And therein lies the crux of the problem. John Sheppard is a man who lives by violence. Yes, I am friends with men who would draw guns to protect themselves and their own, but they are lawmen. And even that bothers me, the sanctioned violence, however necessary it might be. I picked up a gun once in my life, and God as my witness I never will again; nobody should be allowed that power over another’s life.
But perhaps my reasons are more selfish than that. They say those who live by the sword, die by the sword. There would be no certainty in loving a man like John. Sooner or later the Wraith gang, or another gunslinger with something to prove, will be quicker on the draw. My worst fear would be to watch helplessly as his life slipped through my fingers.
That’s why I chose Simon. He was safe, steady, responsible; a healer. Or at least those are the things I thought when I accepted his proposal. I really did love him then, and although I try, I cannot hate him now, cannot label him a coward, though he well may be. A coward and a fool, Carson once called him. Dr. Carson Beckett is something of a paradox. There is a deep well of strength and loyalty in that man, however soft and shy he may appear.
Yes, I loved Simon or, at least, the man I thought he was, but when I finally realized he wasn’t coming I decided I didn’t need a man anyway. I had my store and I had myself. That was all I needed. Things were different here than they were back East; women were expected to be a hardier breed.
I still don’t think I need a man. I doubt I ever will again. Whether I want one or not is another story however. I wonder what his touch would feel like on my bare skin, caressing places no man, not even Simon, has touched. I shiver when he leans over my shoulder, or brushes against me.
Still, it’s not entirely curiosity for the unknown, or at least the physical unknown. I’ve seen him naked. When he dragged Ronon Dex into town, both of them were on death’s doorstep. There wasn’t a part of either of them that was uninjured. Sam Carter, Laura Cadman, and myself were thrust into the roles of nurses as Janet and Carson worked frantically to keep John and Ronon alive.
No, my curiosity is of an entirely different matter. All my life, I’ve done the safe thing, the steady thing, the proper thing. I received the education fitting of my stature, became engaged to a man fitting of my stature as well, and turned my entire life upside down for him. Now, I wonder what it would be like to do something for me, to leap without looking, to love without fear of consequences. I wonder what it would be like to surrender myself to the man named John Sheppard, who has no past; and who may not have a future.
Author: Writerrising
Beta: angelqueen04 :)
Rating:PG
Spoilers: None, it's entirely AU
Summary: Elizabeth wonders.
He’s handsome, there’s no denying that. He’s charming too, in an awkward sort of way. That surprised me a little, the awkwardness. I’ve made him stumble over his words more than once. Who knew a man who draws a gun like it’s an extension of his body could stumble over anything?
And therein lies the crux of the problem. John Sheppard is a man who lives by violence. Yes, I am friends with men who would draw guns to protect themselves and their own, but they are lawmen. And even that bothers me, the sanctioned violence, however necessary it might be. I picked up a gun once in my life, and God as my witness I never will again; nobody should be allowed that power over another’s life.
But perhaps my reasons are more selfish than that. They say those who live by the sword, die by the sword. There would be no certainty in loving a man like John. Sooner or later the Wraith gang, or another gunslinger with something to prove, will be quicker on the draw. My worst fear would be to watch helplessly as his life slipped through my fingers.
That’s why I chose Simon. He was safe, steady, responsible; a healer. Or at least those are the things I thought when I accepted his proposal. I really did love him then, and although I try, I cannot hate him now, cannot label him a coward, though he well may be. A coward and a fool, Carson once called him. Dr. Carson Beckett is something of a paradox. There is a deep well of strength and loyalty in that man, however soft and shy he may appear.
Yes, I loved Simon or, at least, the man I thought he was, but when I finally realized he wasn’t coming I decided I didn’t need a man anyway. I had my store and I had myself. That was all I needed. Things were different here than they were back East; women were expected to be a hardier breed.
I still don’t think I need a man. I doubt I ever will again. Whether I want one or not is another story however. I wonder what his touch would feel like on my bare skin, caressing places no man, not even Simon, has touched. I shiver when he leans over my shoulder, or brushes against me.
Still, it’s not entirely curiosity for the unknown, or at least the physical unknown. I’ve seen him naked. When he dragged Ronon Dex into town, both of them were on death’s doorstep. There wasn’t a part of either of them that was uninjured. Sam Carter, Laura Cadman, and myself were thrust into the roles of nurses as Janet and Carson worked frantically to keep John and Ronon alive.
No, my curiosity is of an entirely different matter. All my life, I’ve done the safe thing, the steady thing, the proper thing. I received the education fitting of my stature, became engaged to a man fitting of my stature as well, and turned my entire life upside down for him. Now, I wonder what it would be like to do something for me, to leap without looking, to love without fear of consequences. I wonder what it would be like to surrender myself to the man named John Sheppard, who has no past; and who may not have a future.