Fic: He Waits
Title: He Waits
Author: angelqueen04
Summary: He wonders if this is how she feels when he and his team don't make it back on schedule.
Type / Pairings: John/Elizabeth
Main characters: John Sheppard
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/a
Spoilers: Up through Season 3.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't pretend to.
Author's Notes: Another ficlet for 15minuteficlets.
Feedback: Yes please! :)
He wonders if this is how she feels when he and his team don’t make it back on schedule. He’s lost count of how many times they’ve come back overdue because of one crisis or another - the prisoners of Olesia shooting them down, being kidnapped by Ford and his band of merry men are only a few examples. Every time it happens she’s always there in the Gate room waiting for them… if she hasn’t already come looking for them herself with a band of marines armed to the teeth.
He itches to do the same, to go through the Gate and tear the planet apart until the natives produce her, alive and unharmed. But he knows better, just as she knew better than to bargain with Kolya to save his life. They do not negotiate with terrorists. She held to that, no matter how much it cost her personally, so how can he possibly do any less?
But that doesn’t mean he can’t cheat a little, just like she did. He doesn’t leave Atlantis himself, knows one of them has to be there in command, but sending out a team with Ronon to try and track her last known movements isn’t something he is forbidden to do. And if anyone can find her and her missing team, it’s Ronon.
So, he waits. He stands on the balcony overlooking the Gate room, leaning on his arms against the railing. He can feel the eyes of the technicians on him from time to time, but no one says anything to him about it. That makes him wonder too. Are they used to this sort of tension as well? Do they sit here waiting, watching her stand in the exact same position? He’ll be damned if he asks, because he already knows the answer.
It’s never really his fault when they’re overdue; he doesn’t mean to make her feel like this. Trouble just finds him a lot. That’s the excuse he always gives, and they both know it’s true. He’s not stupid enough to go looking for trouble deliberately. Not in this galaxy of life-sucking vampires and super-machines bent on destroying every human they come across. But now, the excuse rings hollow. Those words are no comfort to him, and he doubts they are to her either.
It’s getting late. Ronon and the others should call anytime now, reporting back what they’ve found. If they’re extremely lucky, they’ve found her and are heading home now. If they’re only slightly lucky, they know where she is and are making plans to bring her home. If they aren’t lucky at all, then there’s absolutely no trace of her to be found.
So, he waits.
The Gate doesn’t activate.
The city seems far too quiet, even with its many inhabitants. Silent. Like a tomb.
He really, really wishes he hadn’t thought of it like that.
His fingers drum against the railing impatiently. This is insane. He wants to do something! He doesn’t like just standing here and doing nothing! His people are out there, possibly hurt, possibly hungry, possibly dea-
The chevrons begin to dial.
Author: angelqueen04
Summary: He wonders if this is how she feels when he and his team don't make it back on schedule.
Type / Pairings: John/Elizabeth
Main characters: John Sheppard
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/a
Spoilers: Up through Season 3.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't pretend to.
Author's Notes: Another ficlet for 15minuteficlets.
Feedback: Yes please! :)
He wonders if this is how she feels when he and his team don’t make it back on schedule. He’s lost count of how many times they’ve come back overdue because of one crisis or another - the prisoners of Olesia shooting them down, being kidnapped by Ford and his band of merry men are only a few examples. Every time it happens she’s always there in the Gate room waiting for them… if she hasn’t already come looking for them herself with a band of marines armed to the teeth.
He itches to do the same, to go through the Gate and tear the planet apart until the natives produce her, alive and unharmed. But he knows better, just as she knew better than to bargain with Kolya to save his life. They do not negotiate with terrorists. She held to that, no matter how much it cost her personally, so how can he possibly do any less?
But that doesn’t mean he can’t cheat a little, just like she did. He doesn’t leave Atlantis himself, knows one of them has to be there in command, but sending out a team with Ronon to try and track her last known movements isn’t something he is forbidden to do. And if anyone can find her and her missing team, it’s Ronon.
So, he waits. He stands on the balcony overlooking the Gate room, leaning on his arms against the railing. He can feel the eyes of the technicians on him from time to time, but no one says anything to him about it. That makes him wonder too. Are they used to this sort of tension as well? Do they sit here waiting, watching her stand in the exact same position? He’ll be damned if he asks, because he already knows the answer.
It’s never really his fault when they’re overdue; he doesn’t mean to make her feel like this. Trouble just finds him a lot. That’s the excuse he always gives, and they both know it’s true. He’s not stupid enough to go looking for trouble deliberately. Not in this galaxy of life-sucking vampires and super-machines bent on destroying every human they come across. But now, the excuse rings hollow. Those words are no comfort to him, and he doubts they are to her either.
It’s getting late. Ronon and the others should call anytime now, reporting back what they’ve found. If they’re extremely lucky, they’ve found her and are heading home now. If they’re only slightly lucky, they know where she is and are making plans to bring her home. If they aren’t lucky at all, then there’s absolutely no trace of her to be found.
So, he waits.
The Gate doesn’t activate.
The city seems far too quiet, even with its many inhabitants. Silent. Like a tomb.
He really, really wishes he hadn’t thought of it like that.
His fingers drum against the railing impatiently. This is insane. He wants to do something! He doesn’t like just standing here and doing nothing! His people are out there, possibly hurt, possibly hungry, possibly dea-
The chevrons begin to dial.