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27 May 2009 @ 10:49 pm
Fic: Sheppard/Weir - "Huis Clos" - PG13  
Title: "Huis Clos"
Author: Little Red
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sheppard and Weir get stuck in a transporter, and not on a good day.
Challenge: for spockette, who requested it in the comment-fic-request-meme. Mwah!
Author's Note: Holy crap. I don't think I've ever actually written the stuck in a transporter/shuttlecraft/puddle-jumper/Volkswagen/etc story before! I must have. Right? Er, well, now I have for sure.


Elizabeth is right in the middle of telling him exactly how much she hates it when he ducks out of the scientific department heads' monthly project reviews and he's busy working on not saying anything rude in response when there's an awful sound of metal crunching metal and they're both pitched to the floor of the transporter.

Her angry tone of voice transitions seemlessly into "What the hell was that?" She waves at the door sensor. Nothing.

John activates his earpiece. "Control room? Is there anything going on in transport tube 13 that you'd like to tell me about?"

"Some kind of technical malfunction, sir." The tech's voice in his ear is relatively calm, at least, so that means the crunching wasn't at all related to being attacked or one of the piers falling into the ocean. "We're... uh... we're not sure what happened. We'll get back to you. I've never seen anything like this before."

Elizabeth is watching him expectantly to report on the conversation. She still looks pissed.

He winces. "Yeah, this could take a while."


He never really bought in to this particular piece of team superstition before, but he's starting to think that Atlantis must actually be a sentient, conscious entity with an entirely wicked sense of humor.

Never mind the fact that he's been in probably eight transporters already today with nothing happening. Never mind that this has not only never happened before, but McKay reports that it's the only transporter in the city on the fritz (he calls it "lucky 13" because he's funny like that) and that they're trapped in the one section of the elevator line that runs between so much Ancient metal that it'll take six hours for a team of welders to get to them.

The lights flicker ominously above them, but after a glare from John, they stay on.

No, Atlantis is being especially cruel just because it's him, and it's Elizabeth, and he's not exactly sure if she's been avoiding him or he's been avoiding her but it's been a whole month since they were even in a transporter together.

They slept together exactly once, and talked about it exactly never, and now they're both stuck in a transporter with nothing at all to do.

Just his luck.

"You know," she tells him, "If you had just shown up at the geology debrief we wouldn't even have been in here." If there's humor in her voice, it's buried underneath a whole lot of annoyance.

"And if you hadn't come to get me personally, we wouldn't be in here either."

He frowns and thunks his head back against the wall. His gaze drifts over to where her long fingers are worrying a threadbare patch on the hem of her shirt. His gut tightens without his permission at the memory of peeling a red shirt just like that one off of her and kissing her stomach right – there –

Damn. "This is stupid."

She nods. "I think I've missed two meetings already. We can travel to other galaxies and we can't fix a broken elevator?"

That's not what he means, though. He's sick of bickering with her about dumb work things, exchanging unnecessarily sharp emails over inventories and staff briefings, when they used to just talk.

Looking at her used to fill him with a warm happiness, and now he just feels choked with a nondescript ball of... well, a ball of we had sex under alien influence, kind of, except no one else in the diplomatic party did, and it was amazing, and I felt something incredible, and now apparently we can't stand each other. They were summoned back to Atlantis with an urgent hail from Beckett in what turned out to not actually be cause for alarm. The next morning, he waltzed into her office to steal her away for breakfast, feeling unsure but giddy and unable to wait one second longer to see her, and then she dismissed him with her mouth set in a hard line and some excuse about needing to go check on Zelenka's progress with something.

He's spent the past four weeks mostly hiding out and getting his head back together. Even McKay, who was on the mission with them and who doesn't need to be a genius to figure out what happened, stopped making awkward comments about it after the fourth or fifth day of John walking around like a bear with a migraine and a short fuse.

In his self-imposed social isolation, he's been trying to figure out if he's supposed to apologize or not (it was her idea, he sort of remembers, and neither of them had figured out they were being influenced until, well, the point of no return, and he might have said "Oh, shit," but neither of them said stop), and trying to figure out what's wrong with her. Elizabeth doesn't usually let things sit undiscussed for longer than a few seconds. When he's screwed something up off world, he's lucky if the wormhole even shuts down before she's on his case with a meet-me-in-my-office and a we-need-to-talk-about-this.

If a month away from her has been depressing and pretty damned awkward, the prospect of six hours in a confined space with her is feeling even worse.

He finds himself glaring at the ceiling, in silent communication with the city. Not cool, Atlantis, he thinks. You and I are going to need to have a serious talk about your timing.

The city answers with a flicker of lights in a particularly It's my transporter and I'll do what I want to sort of manner.

Elizabeth is also watching the ceiling. She clicks on her headset. "The lights are flickering again," she informs McKay. "Anything we can do to help them stay on?"

He doesn't hear McKay's answer, but he can kind of see it in her face.

"Thanks anyway," she says, and sighs.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" he asks. Then he winces. He hopes she's not afraid of being in the dark with him.

"No," she replies. "But if the lights go out I'll feel even more like we're never getting out of here."

He wants to laugh, but settles on a smirk. She looks away.

Damn. It's going to be up to him, isn't it?

Unfortunately, he's really bad at that. He glares at the ceiling again.

The lights stay on, but he still thinks Atlantis is laughing at him.


It feels like four hours and has actually only been two, and John is trying very hard not to wonder what they'll do if one of them needs to pee.

He's rearranging his calendar in his head when he notices Elizabeth watching him.

"Yeah?" His voice sounds loud in the transporter. Through the Ancient metal, he can't even hear the welding going on outside. The silence is adding to the general sense of doom.

"I don't know," she says, and looks embarrassed. "I guess I'm just surprised that we don't have much to say. Usually when we're together, we have something urgent to talk about."

He doesn't know why, but her train of thought is worrying him. It shouldn't. He's spent the last month thanking God that Elizabeth wants to remain professional and not let their indiscretion ruin everything, but she's been his friend for a very long time. He doesn't like the implication that they have nothing in common, or the way he can imagine Elizabeth using just that as an argument against-

Well, in the conversation they never had. And really, he should be grateful for that. Ignoring the hell out of him is a clear enough signal without her actually sitting down and telling him why.

So he says, "I'm thinking about training schedules. It's not that interesting."

She frowns. "I guess not." Then, a minute later, she asks, "You're not expecting the civilians to train at 0600 again, are you? I got six written complaints last time." She sighs, like making even that feeble joke was an effort.

"No," John replies. "It's impossible to make civilians do anything."

Elizabeth doesn't answer.


He really can't stand the silence. He comms McKay to make sure they're working on freeing them so many times that the scientist threatens to cut off his intercom channel.

Elizabeth takes pity on him or on McKay, one or the other. "We actually really should talk about Doctor Jhadav's proposal."

He wonders if she's looking for another reason to be upset with him. "I didn't read it."

"I know," she says. "I did. I can summarize it for you."

"Believe it or not, I do read most of the things I get."

Elizabeth's eyes widen, and that's when he realizes that he's the one trying to cause an argument.

"If you'd rather just sit here in silence..." she offers.

He's more mature than that. He is.

"Okay, summarize it."


The conversation about the chief geologist's proposal is as civilized as they normally are, but stops short when the lights go out.

Elizabeth comms McKay. "Any chance of getting the lights turned back on?"

There's red emergency lighting around the edges of the floor, and from that, he can see a silhouette of Elizabeth shaking her head.

"Great," he says aloud, because the first thing he's thinking of is the last time he was alone in the dark with her. He hears her breath quicken and curses the fact that for some reason, he can smell her much better in the dark.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I'm hungry," she complains. "And I want coffee."

He laughs.

He can't tell if she's smiling or not.

He jokes, "If I could, I'd order room service," and then wonders if that's inappropriate now. He would have said the same thing a month ago.

"John," she says.

There's a pause that's far too long. As it stretches on, he starts properly panicking about everything - McKay said something dire to her about the transporter. She's claustrophobic. She hates me. She's pregnant. She couldn't be pregnant, could she?

He's the one who breaks the silence, and surprises the hell out of himself when he actually says, "We should probably talk."


He wants this over quickly, though it will probably feel less like the metaphorical band-aid and more like setting a broken bone.

"You should go first," he says.

"Why me?"

"You're better at talking," he argues, because after a month he has absolutely no idea what he wants to say, and because flattery sometimes works, even with Elizabeth.

"That's not fair."

He winces. He wishes he could see her face, but he's glad the darkness is giving him the same cover. "Yeah. You're probably right."

"We shouldn't have let that happen," she states. "Obviously."

He scratches an itch on his ear and ends up pinching the lobe until it hurts. "Obviously. I'm sorry, Elizabeth. You know I'd never do anything like that... on purpose."

That's not quite what he meant to say.

"We were both there," she says. "I was the one who..."

She pulled him aside and asked him a question, something stupid, but her mouth was right next to his ear, and when he wasn't able to stop from moaning she took the edge of his jacket in her hand and pulled him closer, out of view of the party-

"It was my idea," she finishes. "You shouldn't be apologizing."

He's pretty damned certain that it became his idea very quickly. He can't remember wanting anything ever more than he wanted her right then.

His palms are sweating and his heart's speeding up, just remembering it. It was very, very much his fault too.

"Those bastards drugged us," he points out. What little John remembers of Beckett's medical checkup involved the words mood enhancer. That probably doesn't get him off the hook entirely.

Elizabeth shuffles, rearranging the way she's sitting against the transporter wall so she's balled up, a much smaller figure than she usually presents. "That's how Carson reported it in his log. He mentioned a computer virus deleting that whole day of entries, anyway."

Like a broken bone. "That's our plan, too? Just erase it?"

Elizabeth says, "I thought you'd say that."


The lights start coming on and off with just enough randomness to be truly annoying, but not distracting enough.

Shit, John thinks, again and again, watching Elizabeth and trying not to be obvious about it. There's no reason – beyond the four hours they've been cooped up and the dizzying strobe-light effect – for him to feel this stressed.

They talked about it. Nothing she said surprised him. She doesn't blame him, he doesn't blame her, Carson erased the evidence, end of story.

He feels adrenaline like he's under fire and losing.

He has no idea how something can be such a colossal mistake when it seemed, at the time, like -- damn, coming inside her, with her mouth on his and her arms wrapped strong around his back and her hair brushing his face and every inch of skin. It felt, stupidly, meant to be. Like right then, in the alien equivalent of a guest room at a convention center hotel, was the moment everything had been building towards for four goddamned years, since he met her in Antarctica and thought this woman is insane and wanted, without logic, to follow her to another galaxy.

He feels like maybe he loves her, and like this is just about the worst time and place for him to realize that.

He needs to get out of here, but doubts he can talk in a normal voice long enough to check the welders' ETA.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth clicks her headset on and asks for an estimate.

"They've hit a snag," she tells him, affect flat. "It'll be a few hours."

He's still a little hysterical on the inside, wondering if this is what he has left now, because they made a mistake, and now he's going to spend the rest of his time on Atlantis dealing with a shell of Elizabeth instead of the vibrant-passionate-funny-

"Fuck," he curses. "They can't do this any faster? We've been in here all day! What the hell are they doing out there?" He gets up to pace and bangs on the wall twice for good measure.

Surprisingly, Elizabeth doesn't tell him to calm down.

"What if something happens? Lorne's team is still off-world – if they need backup while we're stuck in here!"

In the flickering light, he sees Elizabeth half-shrug. "It's a peaceful mission."

"And these fucking lights."

John slams his palm against the control panel and mentally commands the lights off.

Elizabeth jumps.

"Sorry," he says. He takes a slow, deep breath. "Really. I am."

"I'm sorry too," she says, and he really wishes he hadn't turned the lights off, because it sounds almost like she's about to cry.

"Are you okay?"

She laughs, and it sounds bitter, not at all like her. "I should be."

He slides down the wall to sitting again. Less confrontational, even though she can barely see him either way. Somehow, he feels better knowing that she's not thrilled with the way things went down, either.

"It'll be fine, you know."

She doesn't even pretend he's talking about the transporter. "I really didn't want to do this with you. We work together, and our lives are crazy and there's no room for anything else. I don't know what I was thinking."

"We were drugged," he reminds her.

"You realized that. I didn't. I know you would never have-"

"Jumped you on an alien planet while Lorne and McKay and Teyla had drinks with the alien ambassador?" When he says it like that, it sounds almost funny, like at some point they'll laugh about this the way they do so many other things that were major problems at the time.

"Something like that."


"Sometimes," she says, a hitch in her voice, "It feels like it's just you and me against the universe. Maybe that felt too much like..."


"I probably shouldn't be talking about this."

He wants her to keep talking. He doesn't know how to say that.

"I couldn't do this without you," Elizabeth says. "I hope I haven't ruined that."

"Not really anywhere else for me to transfer to," he points out.

She huffs out a sigh. "There's that, at least."


She says she's going to take a nap, but he knows she's not asleep.

He feels like he cheated her. She confessed something to him, something confused and not quite complete maybe, but he left whatever it is that he's feeling totally unsaid.

He can't let her blame herself for this. If he steps out of himself for a second and thinks, Elizabeth's brutally distant behavior of the past few weeks is the way she usually acts when she thinks she's failed deeply at something. Only, usually, he's there arguing with her point for point until she feels better, or at least well enough to join the rest of the crew for dinner in the mess hall.

It just feels different this time. Because it's him. Because it's important to him.

And so, even though it's wildly inappropriate and the exact opposite of what she said she wants, he says:

"It wasn't the drugs."

Her head jerks up. Not asleep.

Her voice is a warning, the same tone she might use if she were concerned he didn't see a roadside sign saying danger-steep-drop. "John..."

"I wanted you," he says. "We would never have done that off world without help. We should have thought things through. But you didn't coerce me into anything."

"I know," she says, a little patronizingly for his taste.

"No. You don't."

For a long, long minute with no lights and no sounds of welding and no breathing, he waits for the other shoe to drop.

Elizabeth sits up. She has slid closer to speak in a lower voice, as though anyone could hear them through so much soundproof Atlantis metal. "You make it sound like you don't regret it."

He can't figure out her tone. After four years, he should know her better than this. "I regret it if it means we can't talk to each other like normal people anymore."

Her fingers poke his arm in the dark, and then come to rest on his hand with surprising warmth. "I'd hate that."

"The past month has sucked."

She laughs and slides closer. "Agreed. Let's not do that anymore."

His heart is pounding in his chest. He has her back.

There's no reason at all for him to push his luck, for his hand to reach for her face in the dark.

She doesn't pull away.

He has no idea what he's going to say. Somehow, it comes out as: "I want to kiss you."

She makes a sound in her throat that makes his whole body tense, every muscle alert and trying to find the closest distance to cross to get to her. Christ. Four weeks of nothing but beating himself up couldn't get her out of his system, and he is so, so screwed.

She grabs his hand with hers.

"This time," she says, "We should probably talk first."

He squeezes her fingers and tries not to be disappointed, because he actually, surprisingly, completely agrees with her. "Probably."

In the dim red light, so close to her, he can just barely see her smile. "I guess it's a good thing we're not going anywhere for a while."


They do talk, a little, not enough, and they also talk about the scientific debrief policy, and they're playing dumb word games to pass the time when Elizabeth catches his chin in her hand and drops a chaste kiss on his lips.

He's too stunned to even try to turn it into anything more heated.

"What was that?" he asks. He touches her leg with his hand, not with any intention of indecency, just... connecting.

Maybe a little indecency.

"This is a really bad idea," Elizabeth tells him, but it's a happier tone than her antagonizing such-and-such alien species is a really bad idea voice. He can work with this one, he thinks.

"It won't be our worst," he points out.

Elizabeth laughs, the real laugh he rarely hears. He always feels pretty awesome to get it out of her. "Maybe that's a reason not to regret it after all."

He tugs at her sleeve to encourage her to slide closer to him, and wraps his arm around her.

Yes, he thinks, and relaxes. McKay can take his time.


"Six hours, forty-eight minutes, and still no idea what went wrong?" John is multitasking by grilling McKay while wolfing down his second sandwich. Elizabeth disappeared to her office to be reunited with her email (not before promising to meet him for a late dinner, after he finishes his post-incarceration-emergency-snack), but John's still not quite done here.

The welders never arrived, and their transporter started moving all on its own after a triumphant announcement from one of the techs.

"We know what went wrong," McKay retorts. "It was a freak feedback loop in the energy transfer systems that led to a misdirection and a logjam in the system."

"And that took you seven hours to fix?"

"This isn't exactly Otis Elevator here," Rodney glares. "I've wasted quite enough time on this problem for one day. I was actually doing important things before that thing broke down."

John eyes him. "So they're safe to use from now on."


"It won't happen again."

"It was a one in a million fluke."



McKay doesn't budge. Enough mysterious and unexplained things do happen in Atlantis, and it's not like Rodney is renowned for his generosity.

If he did arrange a prolonged transporter accident, he probably only did it because he was sick of having two separate meetings every time he wanted to tell the Atlantis command brain trust something.

John finishes his sandwich and shrugs leadingly. "Maybe Atlantis really is a sentient being after all."

"That's stupid," McKay says.

In the end, Rodney never admits to having anything to do with it.

John thanks him anyway.


Edit: morning-after grammar fixes. Wheee!
Opal: pike!oparu on May 28th, 2009 06:35 am (UTC)
Okay, I want YOU, mylittleredgirl, to OWN Atlantis because when youwrites it, it's frakking hilarious. And you rocks. (I want this for xmas, universe, 'kay?)

the talking. the i did read. i'm being an ass. GUH. the time it takes to work it out, the CITY.

"It's my transporter and I'll do what I want." Fuck yes. Totally. Frakking. Amazing. (so sayeth the Shatner, so say we all. DUDE)

you punched it.
Little Red: sga - sw want - magnavox_23mylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:05 am (UTC)

Eeeeee. :) You're so sweet in your incoherenthappygleee!! <3 <3
Lanna: Sparky Cartoonlanna_kitty on May 28th, 2009 06:40 am (UTC)
I love that Rodney did it. I love the not-quite-fighting. I love the awkward and I love John's inner thoughts. This is *lovely*. I love the intense emotion John gets and ELizabeth's very restrained reaction. love, love, love.
Little Red: sga - sw look - veronica_amylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:06 am (UTC)
*happies* I'm so glad you like it!! I like it so much when they're crabby at each other. I worried people would get bored of the crabby, so I'm glad it worked for you! Hehe.
babylil on May 28th, 2009 07:20 am (UTC)
John + Elizabeth + awkward sex talk = WIN!
Little Red: sga - sw kiss me - goldie_galmylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:08 am (UTC)
HA. They really should have more wonderfully awkward conversations about sex. Often in fandom they're expressed as super liberated and sexually comfortable people (I suspect the way that fandom started with "Atlantis Orgy is Canon y/y!?" might have something to do with that). And, really, they are grown ups, and probably SHOULD be. But after a lot of UST, there really will be some awkward "So...?" moments.
peterlmepeterlme on May 28th, 2009 10:55 am (UTC)
Little Red: sga - lizzie temptress - goldie_galmylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:08 am (UTC)
Thanks! :)
YBjusthere1971 on May 28th, 2009 12:29 pm (UTC)
Every time you write them, it's so amazing to read. You have their "voices" down so beautifully!! I can *hear* them talk ... even Atlantis.

<- Can never get enough of your fics!
Little Red: sga - sw season two! - A.j.mylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:11 am (UTC)
YAY. I'm so glad! While writing this, I started getting kind of obsessed with the idea of Atlantis as a conscious and mercurial entity, though honestly, I haven't really adored any Atlantis-as-sentient fics I've read. But now I really kind of love the idea, and have to find more, and might have to write Atlantis as a cranky old city, or as a more nebulous entity who <3s Elizabeth and pines for her, or gets really really annoyed when the expedition team messes with systems they shouldn't
Human Collaborator Flunkie Pool!fic Muse: J/E - balcony (by awanderingbard)joyfulfeather on May 28th, 2009 12:36 pm (UTC)
Heeheehee, oh, McKay. Love the idea that he's behind this. :D Love all of this! They're so damn awkward about the whole thing. For a while I wasn't sure they were ever actually going to talk and I kinda wanted to smack them both. But then they did and awwww. <3
Little Red: sga - sparky revolution - lyssiemylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:13 am (UTC)
I had NO IDEA if the McKay thing was too cheesy. I really, really, REALLY did not intend for it to go that way, and was kind of annoyed that I just-couldn't-stop-it-from-happening. But apparently you are just as cheesy as me!
stealth_rosestealth_rose on May 28th, 2009 01:00 pm (UTC)
In the end, Rodney never admits to having anything to do with it.

John thanks him anyway.


Wunnerful, as usual, hon. *hugs you*
Little Red: sga - sw happiness - jeepnymylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:13 am (UTC)
*squeezes you and your stealthiness!*
Havochavocthecat on May 28th, 2009 01:00 pm (UTC)
OH MY GOD, YOU WROTE A SEQUEL TO THAT FIC. Which is only one of my MOST FAVORITE Sheppard/Weir stories EVER, and Elizabeth and John are freaking out, and they get stuck in transporter, because, really, that's the only way they're going to talk, and--

*sighs happily* Did I mention that you are AWESOME, and this fic was JUST what I needed to make my day better after a crazy morning. *hugs you*
Little Red: sga - sw kiss me - goldie_galmylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:16 am (UTC)

Because this isn't a sequel to that fic! BUT IT SHOULD BE! Because the backstory is almost exactly the same but not QUITE, and really, WHAT WAS I THINKING!? Alien drugs made them DO IT, and I'm writing a FANFIC CLICHE and it's just so obvious.

*hugs you madly* REALLY, I feel silly now. Hehehehe. But I'm glad you like it!

(I also have lots of <3 for that fic of mine, hehe. Though lots of peeps have told me that one is too awkward for them. But really, it is an INCREDIBLY AWKWARD fanfic cliche, so it had to happen.)
Alice: 30rock: liz lemon executiveviolettavalery on May 28th, 2009 01:26 pm (UTC)
*claps happily* I haven't read John/Elizabeth fic in so long! And this was awesome.
Little Red: sga - sw kiss me - goldie_galmylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:16 am (UTC)
I go for so long without reading John/Elizabeth fic TOO! And then they sneak up on me. Because I just can't quit them. Hehe.
dark_faith366: Fallendark_faith366 on May 28th, 2009 01:52 pm (UTC)
WOW. I didn't even know how much I missed this!!!

I would have given any body part for you to be a 'Lantis PTB.
Little Red: sga - sw want - magnavox_23mylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:19 am (UTC)

OMG. I can't even imagine how crazy and scary it would be to have REAL LIVE ACTOR TOYS like that. *spazzes* Though really, you wouldn't have liked it. Because I don't like it when shows actually resolve sexual tension and let people hook up and settle down. Because then it is BO-RING. (Though there might have been some kinky mirror universe sexing. And also lots of 'haha, we might be doing it off-camera' moments. And they would TOTALLY have gotten stuck in a small enclosed space for a whole episode AT LEAST once.)
dark_cygnet: Graceful Swandark_cygnet on May 28th, 2009 03:30 pm (UTC)
Ya know, I think I'm going to steal this for my birthday, because it sure was a lovely way to start the day.

If I haven't told you before, I adore the way you write dialog between these two, it's like you have 3 brains(mmm,braaains), just like that ST:Next Gen ep, dude! And go Rodney!

I'm so glad you are writing more of our dynamic duo, can never have too much Little Red fic. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Little Red: trek - pc the moment - 2clmylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:21 am (UTC)
It's your birthday!? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Have some Sparky fic that you've already read! Hehe.

... I have 3 brains!? I AM A HORRIBLE TREKKIE. I have no idea what episode you're talking about.
(no subject) - dark_cygnet on May 29th, 2009 03:04 am (UTC) (Expand)
miera_cmiera_c on May 28th, 2009 03:36 pm (UTC)

Oh God, they drive me crazy. I wanted to smack their heads together myself. They keep coming close to admitting something and then the other person doesn't react and ARGH.

I don't blame Rodney one bit.

But the truth won out in the end. YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Too many awesome lines to quote them all. I'll stick with this one:

"What was that?" he asks. He touches her leg with his hand, not with any intention of indecency, just... connecting.

Maybe a little indecency.

Little Red: sga - suck enough - nomadicwritermylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:23 am (UTC)
OH MY GOD, can you believe that for a while there I DID NOT THINK THIS STORY COULD HAVE A HAPPY ENDING!? I was writing it all "This is fun!" and then I was like "OH CRAP. THEY WILL NEVER FIX THIS. THEY ARE TOO STUBBORN AND LAAAAAME."

I hate it when characters boss me around like that. ;)
Icepixie: [Atlantis] John/Elizabeth Pacific Streeticepixie on May 28th, 2009 03:38 pm (UTC)
I agree with the above--YOU should run Atlantis!

I love the awkwardness and tentativeness and eventual sweetness. LOVE IT. And hahaha, Rodney!
Little Red: sga - sw happiness - jeepnymylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:25 am (UTC)
I am seriously going to spend the rest of the evening just cackling randomly with gleee about the crazy shenanigans that would occur in ATLANTIS: EXECUTIVE BIGWIG LITTLE RED.
This isn't anything.anxietygrrl on May 28th, 2009 03:57 pm (UTC)
Oh, boy, did this brighten up my day. I haven't read S/W in so long, I forgot how much I liked it, especially when you write it. The John POV in this was so great.
Little Red: sga - sw look - veronica_amylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:29 am (UTC)
S/W is such happy WIN!

At least, it is for me, because I stopped having TV right around the end of season 3. LAAAA! I live in happylittleredworld. And really, I kind of feel like I should mainline the last two seasons so that at least I have some grasp of canon. But I just can't bring myself to on the off-chance that it will BUZZKILL MY SQUEEE.

John POV is addictive, the same way Jack POV is in SG-1, because they both have a really clever flippancy to them as well as an emotional intensity. But Jack is more "whatEVER" about stuff, which can be fun, and John still gets wrapped up in everything. And John pretends to be bitter and jaded, but he really isn't.
(no subject) - anxietygrrl on May 29th, 2009 01:43 am (UTC) (Expand)
crayonbreakygal: John/elizabeth smut samjack_girlcrayonbreakygal on May 28th, 2009 04:42 pm (UTC)
Thank you, thank you. That was great. I loved it that John thought Atlantis was causing them to be trapped in a transporter.
Little Red: sga - sw kiss me - goldie_galmylittleredgirl on May 29th, 2009 01:30 am (UTC)
Thank you!!

I can only imagine that people in Atlantis have thoughts like that all the time. I'm sure the city does lots of things automagically that make people go "OMG. It's ALIIIIIVE!" until they figure out what's going on.