Fic: Untitled
Originally posted: For cnnjunky's birthday, February 15, 2007
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir
Word Count: 210
A/N: A mini fic of 'Lizabeth's thoughts during that scene in The Siege Part III (to match the birthday art!)
Relief washed over Elizabeth, hearing his voice from the Daedalus. She hadn’t had time to consider the ramifications of what he intended to do, every ounce of everyone’s focus had been on stopping the Wraith. It wasn’t until she realized he’d done it was she struck with the fact that she’d never see him again.
Fortunately, and she smirked slightly at the thought, John Sheppard had an uncanny knack for beating the odds. She allowed the relief to surge through her as she went back to the task at hand. As much as she wished it would, John’s survival didn’t change the fact that the city was still under attack.
But then he was beamed into her presence, and her relief was no longer an abstract concept like the constellations, but a real, tangible dark figure in front of her. Before she had time to contemplate her actions, she was in his arms, holding on for dear life, hanging on for what was likely a split second longer than would be considered appropriate on Earth.
Here, it felt right.
He’d saved Atlantis. The city of the ancients. Her city. He’d been willing to sacrifice his own life for theirs, and yet somehow there he was before her, risen from the ashes.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir
Word Count: 210
A/N: A mini fic of 'Lizabeth's thoughts during that scene in The Siege Part III (to match the birthday art!)
Relief washed over Elizabeth, hearing his voice from the Daedalus. She hadn’t had time to consider the ramifications of what he intended to do, every ounce of everyone’s focus had been on stopping the Wraith. It wasn’t until she realized he’d done it was she struck with the fact that she’d never see him again.
Fortunately, and she smirked slightly at the thought, John Sheppard had an uncanny knack for beating the odds. She allowed the relief to surge through her as she went back to the task at hand. As much as she wished it would, John’s survival didn’t change the fact that the city was still under attack.
But then he was beamed into her presence, and her relief was no longer an abstract concept like the constellations, but a real, tangible dark figure in front of her. Before she had time to contemplate her actions, she was in his arms, holding on for dear life, hanging on for what was likely a split second longer than would be considered appropriate on Earth.
Here, it felt right.
He’d saved Atlantis. The city of the ancients. Her city. He’d been willing to sacrifice his own life for theirs, and yet somehow there he was before her, risen from the ashes.