moonlettuce | SGA Fic

I originally had this thought for the

sga_flashfic voyeur challenge, but due to various reasons never actually got it written until a couple of days ago.

Title: Supernova
Author: Claire
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG

Summary: Elizabeth may be looking for coffee, but she finds something else entirely.

Spoilers for the end of The Siege, part 2.

Supernova
by Claire

Elizabeth Weir curses as she opens yet another box not containing what she's looking for. It's been a long night, and it shows no signs of stopping. The Wraith may be gone - thanks to John Sheppard and the Daedelus - but there's still a lot of clean-up to do. The military have just finished sweeping the city for signs of any remaining Wraith and the scientists have started on checking the structural integrity of those parts of Atlantis that were home to the battles.

She's been awake for what seems like days, and now all Liz wants is a cup of the coffee she knows the Daedelus brought with it. Supplies of medicine and weapons and a hundred other things the expedition needs came with them, but it's the thought of the coffee that's keeping her going, keeping her from dropping where she stands.

She thinks it's around 3 in the morning, but she can't be sure. Peter would know, but he's gone, along with too many of their people she hasn't had time to mourn yet. There's a list of the missing people sitting on her desk and Liz doesn't want to look at it, frightened of what names she might see.

Reaching up, Liz pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes closing for only a second before she reaches out for the inventory of yet another container. Her fingers are just about to close on the neatly typed sheet of paper when the sound of the door opening reaches her. She looks through the shelves, thinking it may be one of the Daedelus's crew, dropping off yet more boxes for the supply closet, but instead she sees Rodney McKay walk in, fingers beating an insistent tattoo against his thigh.

There's a part of Liz that isn't surprised to see him. Carson has already told her to expect both Rodney and Radek Zelenka to crash spectacularly when the stimulants they'd been taking finally catch up with them. Zelenka's time had come and gone, the Czech scientist all but collapsing on top of Sergeant Bates in the Control Room and having to be helped back to his quarters to finally get some long deserved sleep.

Rodney seems to have been staying awake by force of will alone, and now Carson has cut off the supply of stimulants she assumes he's looking for something else to stave off the inevitable collapse his body is undoubtedly looking for. She's about to call out to him, tell him she's already checked that side of the supplies looking for the elusive coffee when John Sheppard walks in behind him and something makes her stay silent.

Sheppard shuts the door and the two men look at each other. It's the first time Rodney has looked at the Major since his return on the Daedelus. Everyone in Atlantis had been celebrating the miracle that was John Sheppard's survival, but Rodney McKay had simply walked away and started running a diagnostic on the city's systems. Sheppard had glanced after him, eyes only staying on Rodney's form for a brief second before he was swept up in a wave of military bodies, calling commands and setting up teams to check Atlantis.

But that was hours ago, and now they're here and Liz is suddenly reminded of the arguments her parents used to have before they were divorced, all silence before the accusations and recriminations started flying. She knows she doesn't want to see this, doesn't want to hear Rodney berate John for not waiting until there was another way, doesn't want to hear John tell Rodney the plan for remotely flying the jumpers should have worked. They can't have Atlantis's Chief Science Officer and Chief Military Officer at each other's throats. She wants to step out from where she is and stop this before it starts. Although, she supposes that if they have to do this, at least they have the presence of mind to do it away from everyone else. And then Rodney looks up, eyes shining under the artificial light.

"I thought I'd lost you." His voice is thick, unlike Liz has ever heard him before.

"Never," replies John. "No matter what happened, I was never going to leave you."

Rodney snorts. "And what do you think 'So long, Rodney' is?"

"It was all I could say," John says, and even Liz can see how much the admission costs him. "If I'd said anything else I wouldn't have been able to go." John moves, his hand reaching out to Rodney's cheek. "I love you."

Rodney's eyes widen slightly, and Liz suddenly understands that it's the first time he's heard John speak those words. Only a beat passes before Rodney's arms wrap around John, clinging tightly.

John doesn't hesitate in returning the embrace, fingers running up and down Rodney's back, his face pressed into Rodney's shoulder.

Liz knows she shouldn't be here. She's seeing something that isn't hers to see, stealing the vulnerability they think they're giving only to each other. More words are said, but Liz can't hear them, and she's absurdly glad. She doesn't want to hear the murmurs meant only for the two of them. Has already taken something from them by being here, she doesn't want to take any more. So she stays quiet as they whispers quiet reassurances, stays quiet as their lips meet softly. She stays quiet as John's thumb rubs over Rodney's cheek, and she stays quiet as they two of the move away from each other and back towards the door.

The soft click signifies she's alone again and Liz sits on one of the boxes. She didn't know, had no idea that John Sheppard and Rodney McKay were more than just team-mates. Didn't know that it had become something more, but something in her says that if the two of them can make it work, then they all can. Liz laughs softly as she pushes herself off the box, fingers crinkling on the paper attached to the top of the container as she does so. And there, held in her hand, finally, is the inventory for the box containing the coffee.

End