fic: Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Six [PG-13]
TITLE: Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Six
SUMMARY: Elizabeth had never been on a date with someone who she thought wanted to be with someone else. She couldn't imagine it was all that nice a feeling.
CATEGORY: crackfic, shermer_high AU
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: I still have to write the final scene of this fic, but it's being a bitch and holding out. I don't know why. I think the muse got burned out after adding about 6,000 words to this story on the 28th Dec. She's not writing very much anywhere right now.
Part Five
Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Six
"It was nothing," Teyla whispered during Monday morning Trig, while Mr. Felger scribbled all over the board with great enthusiasm. "Better that John is mad with me than you."
Elizabeth wasn't so sure of that, especially since it seemed that John was presently mad at both her and Teyla and didn't look like he was going to forgive either of them anytime soon. "You did good on Friday night."
John's pique had only lasted to the end of the first quarter. During the break, Elizabeth could see Coach Caldwell giving the team a stern talking-to, and when the game resumed, the passes flowed to Teyla as much as to any other receiver on the team.
The change in tactics had taken their opponents by surprise. Shermer had ended up winning the game by a significant margin, much to the delight of the crowd. At least one touchdown had been scored by Teyla, and she'd passed another to one of her team-mates, resulting in another score.
The other girl flashed her a brief smile. "It was a good game. I enjoyed it."
Mr. Felger still had his back to the class so Elizabeth didn't feel too bad about talking. "So did I."
Of course, when Teyla glanced at her and asked her next question, Elizabeth wished she'd ended the conversation and finished the problem on the board. "How are you?"
That morning, the news had slipped out that John had asked Chaya Sar to the Founder's Dance. There was a lot of speculation as to whether or not this had anything to do with the fight he'd had with Elizabeth on Friday night before the game.
For her part, Elizabeth ignored as much of the gossip as she was able, and kept her mouth shut. She trusted that John was doing the same. As for her other friends, Rodney and Radek probably wouldn't even notice the gossip, and she could count on Teyla, Carson, and Kate to say nothing and turn the conversation to other routes.
It was odd to discover that her supposed 'rejection' by John didn't hurt as much as she'd expected.
Oh, there was a dull ache when she thought about it, but the other thing she felt right now was mostly relief. It was over. She wasn't going to go out with John Sheppard, she wasn't going to eat her heart out, and she wasn't going to cry over him.
It was over.
And she felt good.
"I'm fine," she said, and was pleased to find she meant it.
Teyla studied her a moment, the dark eyes seeing more than Elizabeth was quite comfortable with, but holding her own observations secret. After a moment, the dusky face broke into a genuine smile. "I am glad for your sake."
So was Elizabeth.
"Teyla! Elizabeth!" Mr. Felger was regarding them with undisguised impatience. "Do you have an answer to the problem on the board?"
Teyla sat up, looking abashed. "No."
"Elizabeth?"
"No, sir."
"Then hurry up!"
Since Mr. Felger had a habit of keeping students in for five minutes if they hadn't finished the problem he set on the board at the start of the lesson, they hurried up. So far, Elizabeth had never been stuck inside, but Teyla had. Once was enough.
Later, as they sat out in the autumn morning, Elizabeth noted more than one set of faces turned towards her and Teyla as they set down their bags in their usual spot on the grass. Of course, when she actually looked at any given group, they looked quickly away.
"Is it just me," she asked as she pulled out her morning snack, "or are there people watching us?"
"It is not your imagination," Teyla confirmed.
"I guess I'm quite the item of gossip," she said, trying not to sound bitter.
"Your argument with John was very public," Teyla said lightly. "And you are both well-known in the school." She nibbled at her cookie.
Elizabeth grimaced to herself, then paused as she caught sight of a pretty, auburn-haired girl making her way across the grass to her clique of friends. "Teyla?"
"Yes?"
"When did John ask Chaya to the Founder's Dance?"
It was a second before Teyla answered, and when Elizabeth turned, her friend looked slightly cagey. "Teyla."
"I believe it was Thursday," said Teyla reluctantly, "during lunch."
Even before he confronted me about Ronon, she realised with a touch of anger. Her eyes narrowed and she bit into her apple with a vicious snap. He wasn't mad because he wanted to go to the dance with me, he just didn't want anyone else to have me.
There was a moment of silence before Teyla spoke again. "I believe he cares about you in his own way."
"In his own way," Elizabeth echoed. Some declaration of love that was! "Not much of a way," she said with a touch of cynicism, "as a backup in case his other invites didn't work out."
"That is not so."
The statement, meant to be comforting, only came across as chiding. Elizabeth snorted. "And you know John so well that you're so sure about that?"
Another girl might have backed off, but whatever people thought of Teyla, she didn't lack for courage. "I know him well enough to say that he thinks well of you."
"I don't want to be 'well thought' of!" Elizabeth snapped, sulkily.
Teyla simply regarded her, refusing to give way before her anger. "Then it is too bad for you," she said. "And too bad for Ronon."
"Ronon?"
"He might not have been your first choice, but you were his," said Teyla complacently, stretching out her arms. "For a boy such as Ronon in Shermer High, that is no small thing." She stood, picking up her bag.
"You're going?"
"I have someone to see."
In another girl, it might have been avoidance of Elizabeth's temper. In Teyla, she probably did have someone she wanted to see. Besides, there was something slightly furtive about the way the other girl was avoiding her eyes. Anger turned to curiosity and she arched a brow. "Someone such as...?"
"Someone." The deliberately vague answer only sparked Elizabeth's interest further.
She kept her eyes on Teyla's face. "I've heard a thing or two about Mark Lorne." Her watchfulness was rewarded with a roll of the eyes and a faint blush. "So they were right?"
Teyla glared for a second before she smiled. "Maybe."
Elizabeth laughed. So that was the reason Mark had started attending the football matches after three years of not caring about the sport! "Are you going to be at lunch so I can get all the details out of you then?"
"I will be at lunch," Teyla said as she walked away. "Whether you can get details out of me is not for you to decide!"
Cheered by the prospect of teasing her friend, she was in a good mood for two periods of Ancient History and was still feeling reasonably good when she got lunch and sat down at a table.
Then John slid into the seat opposite her and her good mood fled. "Hi."
"Hi."
"You're mad at me."
"Like that takes a Mensa-level intelligence to work out," she told him. "What do you want?"
"Uh, well, I guess I wanted to say... 'Hi.'"
"You already said that." Elizabeth was aware she wasn't being nice and she didn't care. She didn't need him, she didn't want him, and she was waiting for Teyla to come along so she could get the interesting gossip out of her instead of rehashing the last week of cold shoulders and stubborn silences.
John's eyes narrowed as he leaned forwards. "There's no need to be prickly, you know."
"Oh, no," she said quietly. "No need to be angry at all after you made a scene on Friday night, and were a bastard all last week."
He glared at her. "Look, I was angry. I said some things that were...uncharacteristic of me."
"And you're expecting a free pass home?"
"I'm not expecting anything!"
"Which is why you sit down, just start talking and think everything is going to be fine."
"I'm being friendly," he hissed. "Which I thought was what you wanted!"
Which wasn't the point at all. "You're behaving as though nothing happened." And if he said, 'Nothing did' then she was never going to speak to him again.
"Look, I understand that you're annoyed with me."
"I'm annoyed with you?" The arrogance of the guy! "John, you practically accused Ronon of being a criminal! Without evidence!"
"Well, he could be!"
"That's not an argument designed to convince me otherwise!"
He scowled at her. "So you're in love with him?"
Elizabeth stared at him for a full five seconds, speechless with fury. "Where did that come from?"
"You wouldn't be defending him if you didn't like him!"
"I wouldn't be defending him if you hadn't been an idiot about him on Friday night!" Which brought her to another point. "And don't ever think our friendship gives you the right to tell me who I'm going to date!"
John opened his mouth to make a retort, but was neatly interrupted when a tray was set down on the table. "Anyone sitting here, or is this is a private argument?"
Ronon certainly had an impeccable sense of timing.
"It's a private argument," John said at the same time as Elizabeth said, "No, you can sit here."
They glared at each other. Then John pushed himself up, his chair squealing against the linoleum floor. "Fine. I wish you many fat babies." And with one last, scathing look at her, he stalked away.
Elizabeth pasted a smile on her face, although she really wanted to scream after John. Bastard!
Ronon took the seat, although not without a long, measuring look at the other boy's retreating back. "I don't want to know." It was almost a question, but not quite.
"You don't want to know," she agreed, scraping her fork around her plate. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately..."
His hands paused in the middle of arranging his tray. "You don't?"
When she looked up, the dark eyes were measuring her, and she flushed. "We're just friends."
Ronon shrugged. "If you say so."
"You don't believe me."
He took a few moments to answer, stirring his food for a moment. When he did answer, it was with a quick glance up. "I know you agreed to go with me because Sheppard's taking the Venezuelan girl."
"I didn't!" His expression turned skeptical and she tried to defend her actions. "I fought with John before you asked - not right before - but he was being an idiot anyway--"
"Nothing new there."
"--and I wasn't going to go to with him even if he asked--"
"But you wanted him to ask."
Elizabeth made a face. "Not that he would." She stopped. Ronon didn't look exactly resentful, but she could tell he wasn't very pleased by her words. She sighed and reached one hand out over the table to touch his hand. "Ronon, I--"
He shook off her touch, shrugging. "It's okay," he said. One corner of his mouth tilted in a smile that looked suspiciously self-mocking. "I didn't expect anything."
Great. Now he was mad at her.
Or not.
His silence wasn't the usual stiff silence she'd come to associate with him being angry or annoyed with her. It was just...regular silence.
Around them, the voices of the students ebbed and flowed with the tides of conversation and Elizabeth dared a question. "How was Modern History?"
He shrugged. "Quinn teaches a very...unusual view of World War II."
"Oh?"
Dark eyes glanced up and his mouth tilted slightly. "Apparently, it began before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour."
Elizabeth grinned. "Really?"
"Yep. Apparently Europe fought the war for three years before America got involved." Ronon smirked.
"Who knew?" While the curriculum was state standard, the somewhat eclectic mix of teachers at Shermer High resulted in a broader range of topics and views than Elizabeth understood was usually seen in American high school.
Like Mr. O'Neill's assertion that the United States didn't have a monopoly on anything good - not least of all poetry.
A thought struck her. He'd been born in Hawaii after all. "Was your family in Hawaii at the time?"
He gave her an odd look. "My gramps," he said.
"Any stories?"
Ronon arched a brow at her. "You're not taking Modern."
"Not yet," she said. Elizabeth had only taken Ancient History due to a limit on the number of subjects she could manage at one time, but she planned to take Modern next year if it was available. "But stories are always interesting."
"Depends who's telling them."
"Sometimes the story itself is enough."
"You've never heard my gramps going off," Ronon told her, but there was a slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes that meant he was hiding a laugh.
Elizabeth grinned back. "Then you'll have to introduce me so I can."
He paused, then shrugged, with something like a grin touching his face as he looked back at her. "Maybe I will."
As they ate their way through lunch and argued with each other about their various subjects - including English Lit and the poems they'd found - Elizabeth caught Ronon watching her a number of times. She wasn't sure what to make of it - especially after he'd said he wasn't expecting anything.
Elizabeth had never been on a date with someone who she thought wanted to be with someone else. She couldn't imagine it was all that nice a feeling.
She really wanted to explain to Ronon that she did want to go to the dance with him, and not just to spite John. But how did you explain something like that without making it more than just words?
For the duration of lunchtime, words sufficed; but when the bell rang, Elizabeth still had no answer to the question.
- TBC -
Part Seven
SUMMARY: Elizabeth had never been on a date with someone who she thought wanted to be with someone else. She couldn't imagine it was all that nice a feeling.
CATEGORY: crackfic, shermer_high AU
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: I still have to write the final scene of this fic, but it's being a bitch and holding out. I don't know why. I think the muse got burned out after adding about 6,000 words to this story on the 28th Dec. She's not writing very much anywhere right now.
Part Five
Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Six
"It was nothing," Teyla whispered during Monday morning Trig, while Mr. Felger scribbled all over the board with great enthusiasm. "Better that John is mad with me than you."
Elizabeth wasn't so sure of that, especially since it seemed that John was presently mad at both her and Teyla and didn't look like he was going to forgive either of them anytime soon. "You did good on Friday night."
John's pique had only lasted to the end of the first quarter. During the break, Elizabeth could see Coach Caldwell giving the team a stern talking-to, and when the game resumed, the passes flowed to Teyla as much as to any other receiver on the team.
The change in tactics had taken their opponents by surprise. Shermer had ended up winning the game by a significant margin, much to the delight of the crowd. At least one touchdown had been scored by Teyla, and she'd passed another to one of her team-mates, resulting in another score.
The other girl flashed her a brief smile. "It was a good game. I enjoyed it."
Mr. Felger still had his back to the class so Elizabeth didn't feel too bad about talking. "So did I."
Of course, when Teyla glanced at her and asked her next question, Elizabeth wished she'd ended the conversation and finished the problem on the board. "How are you?"
That morning, the news had slipped out that John had asked Chaya Sar to the Founder's Dance. There was a lot of speculation as to whether or not this had anything to do with the fight he'd had with Elizabeth on Friday night before the game.
For her part, Elizabeth ignored as much of the gossip as she was able, and kept her mouth shut. She trusted that John was doing the same. As for her other friends, Rodney and Radek probably wouldn't even notice the gossip, and she could count on Teyla, Carson, and Kate to say nothing and turn the conversation to other routes.
It was odd to discover that her supposed 'rejection' by John didn't hurt as much as she'd expected.
Oh, there was a dull ache when she thought about it, but the other thing she felt right now was mostly relief. It was over. She wasn't going to go out with John Sheppard, she wasn't going to eat her heart out, and she wasn't going to cry over him.
It was over.
And she felt good.
"I'm fine," she said, and was pleased to find she meant it.
Teyla studied her a moment, the dark eyes seeing more than Elizabeth was quite comfortable with, but holding her own observations secret. After a moment, the dusky face broke into a genuine smile. "I am glad for your sake."
So was Elizabeth.
"Teyla! Elizabeth!" Mr. Felger was regarding them with undisguised impatience. "Do you have an answer to the problem on the board?"
Teyla sat up, looking abashed. "No."
"Elizabeth?"
"No, sir."
"Then hurry up!"
Since Mr. Felger had a habit of keeping students in for five minutes if they hadn't finished the problem he set on the board at the start of the lesson, they hurried up. So far, Elizabeth had never been stuck inside, but Teyla had. Once was enough.
Later, as they sat out in the autumn morning, Elizabeth noted more than one set of faces turned towards her and Teyla as they set down their bags in their usual spot on the grass. Of course, when she actually looked at any given group, they looked quickly away.
"Is it just me," she asked as she pulled out her morning snack, "or are there people watching us?"
"It is not your imagination," Teyla confirmed.
"I guess I'm quite the item of gossip," she said, trying not to sound bitter.
"Your argument with John was very public," Teyla said lightly. "And you are both well-known in the school." She nibbled at her cookie.
Elizabeth grimaced to herself, then paused as she caught sight of a pretty, auburn-haired girl making her way across the grass to her clique of friends. "Teyla?"
"Yes?"
"When did John ask Chaya to the Founder's Dance?"
It was a second before Teyla answered, and when Elizabeth turned, her friend looked slightly cagey. "Teyla."
"I believe it was Thursday," said Teyla reluctantly, "during lunch."
Even before he confronted me about Ronon, she realised with a touch of anger. Her eyes narrowed and she bit into her apple with a vicious snap. He wasn't mad because he wanted to go to the dance with me, he just didn't want anyone else to have me.
There was a moment of silence before Teyla spoke again. "I believe he cares about you in his own way."
"In his own way," Elizabeth echoed. Some declaration of love that was! "Not much of a way," she said with a touch of cynicism, "as a backup in case his other invites didn't work out."
"That is not so."
The statement, meant to be comforting, only came across as chiding. Elizabeth snorted. "And you know John so well that you're so sure about that?"
Another girl might have backed off, but whatever people thought of Teyla, she didn't lack for courage. "I know him well enough to say that he thinks well of you."
"I don't want to be 'well thought' of!" Elizabeth snapped, sulkily.
Teyla simply regarded her, refusing to give way before her anger. "Then it is too bad for you," she said. "And too bad for Ronon."
"Ronon?"
"He might not have been your first choice, but you were his," said Teyla complacently, stretching out her arms. "For a boy such as Ronon in Shermer High, that is no small thing." She stood, picking up her bag.
"You're going?"
"I have someone to see."
In another girl, it might have been avoidance of Elizabeth's temper. In Teyla, she probably did have someone she wanted to see. Besides, there was something slightly furtive about the way the other girl was avoiding her eyes. Anger turned to curiosity and she arched a brow. "Someone such as...?"
"Someone." The deliberately vague answer only sparked Elizabeth's interest further.
She kept her eyes on Teyla's face. "I've heard a thing or two about Mark Lorne." Her watchfulness was rewarded with a roll of the eyes and a faint blush. "So they were right?"
Teyla glared for a second before she smiled. "Maybe."
Elizabeth laughed. So that was the reason Mark had started attending the football matches after three years of not caring about the sport! "Are you going to be at lunch so I can get all the details out of you then?"
"I will be at lunch," Teyla said as she walked away. "Whether you can get details out of me is not for you to decide!"
Cheered by the prospect of teasing her friend, she was in a good mood for two periods of Ancient History and was still feeling reasonably good when she got lunch and sat down at a table.
Then John slid into the seat opposite her and her good mood fled. "Hi."
"Hi."
"You're mad at me."
"Like that takes a Mensa-level intelligence to work out," she told him. "What do you want?"
"Uh, well, I guess I wanted to say... 'Hi.'"
"You already said that." Elizabeth was aware she wasn't being nice and she didn't care. She didn't need him, she didn't want him, and she was waiting for Teyla to come along so she could get the interesting gossip out of her instead of rehashing the last week of cold shoulders and stubborn silences.
John's eyes narrowed as he leaned forwards. "There's no need to be prickly, you know."
"Oh, no," she said quietly. "No need to be angry at all after you made a scene on Friday night, and were a bastard all last week."
He glared at her. "Look, I was angry. I said some things that were...uncharacteristic of me."
"And you're expecting a free pass home?"
"I'm not expecting anything!"
"Which is why you sit down, just start talking and think everything is going to be fine."
"I'm being friendly," he hissed. "Which I thought was what you wanted!"
Which wasn't the point at all. "You're behaving as though nothing happened." And if he said, 'Nothing did' then she was never going to speak to him again.
"Look, I understand that you're annoyed with me."
"I'm annoyed with you?" The arrogance of the guy! "John, you practically accused Ronon of being a criminal! Without evidence!"
"Well, he could be!"
"That's not an argument designed to convince me otherwise!"
He scowled at her. "So you're in love with him?"
Elizabeth stared at him for a full five seconds, speechless with fury. "Where did that come from?"
"You wouldn't be defending him if you didn't like him!"
"I wouldn't be defending him if you hadn't been an idiot about him on Friday night!" Which brought her to another point. "And don't ever think our friendship gives you the right to tell me who I'm going to date!"
John opened his mouth to make a retort, but was neatly interrupted when a tray was set down on the table. "Anyone sitting here, or is this is a private argument?"
Ronon certainly had an impeccable sense of timing.
"It's a private argument," John said at the same time as Elizabeth said, "No, you can sit here."
They glared at each other. Then John pushed himself up, his chair squealing against the linoleum floor. "Fine. I wish you many fat babies." And with one last, scathing look at her, he stalked away.
Elizabeth pasted a smile on her face, although she really wanted to scream after John. Bastard!
Ronon took the seat, although not without a long, measuring look at the other boy's retreating back. "I don't want to know." It was almost a question, but not quite.
"You don't want to know," she agreed, scraping her fork around her plate. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately..."
His hands paused in the middle of arranging his tray. "You don't?"
When she looked up, the dark eyes were measuring her, and she flushed. "We're just friends."
Ronon shrugged. "If you say so."
"You don't believe me."
He took a few moments to answer, stirring his food for a moment. When he did answer, it was with a quick glance up. "I know you agreed to go with me because Sheppard's taking the Venezuelan girl."
"I didn't!" His expression turned skeptical and she tried to defend her actions. "I fought with John before you asked - not right before - but he was being an idiot anyway--"
"Nothing new there."
"--and I wasn't going to go to with him even if he asked--"
"But you wanted him to ask."
Elizabeth made a face. "Not that he would." She stopped. Ronon didn't look exactly resentful, but she could tell he wasn't very pleased by her words. She sighed and reached one hand out over the table to touch his hand. "Ronon, I--"
He shook off her touch, shrugging. "It's okay," he said. One corner of his mouth tilted in a smile that looked suspiciously self-mocking. "I didn't expect anything."
Great. Now he was mad at her.
Or not.
His silence wasn't the usual stiff silence she'd come to associate with him being angry or annoyed with her. It was just...regular silence.
Around them, the voices of the students ebbed and flowed with the tides of conversation and Elizabeth dared a question. "How was Modern History?"
He shrugged. "Quinn teaches a very...unusual view of World War II."
"Oh?"
Dark eyes glanced up and his mouth tilted slightly. "Apparently, it began before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour."
Elizabeth grinned. "Really?"
"Yep. Apparently Europe fought the war for three years before America got involved." Ronon smirked.
"Who knew?" While the curriculum was state standard, the somewhat eclectic mix of teachers at Shermer High resulted in a broader range of topics and views than Elizabeth understood was usually seen in American high school.
Like Mr. O'Neill's assertion that the United States didn't have a monopoly on anything good - not least of all poetry.
A thought struck her. He'd been born in Hawaii after all. "Was your family in Hawaii at the time?"
He gave her an odd look. "My gramps," he said.
"Any stories?"
Ronon arched a brow at her. "You're not taking Modern."
"Not yet," she said. Elizabeth had only taken Ancient History due to a limit on the number of subjects she could manage at one time, but she planned to take Modern next year if it was available. "But stories are always interesting."
"Depends who's telling them."
"Sometimes the story itself is enough."
"You've never heard my gramps going off," Ronon told her, but there was a slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes that meant he was hiding a laugh.
Elizabeth grinned back. "Then you'll have to introduce me so I can."
He paused, then shrugged, with something like a grin touching his face as he looked back at her. "Maybe I will."
As they ate their way through lunch and argued with each other about their various subjects - including English Lit and the poems they'd found - Elizabeth caught Ronon watching her a number of times. She wasn't sure what to make of it - especially after he'd said he wasn't expecting anything.
Elizabeth had never been on a date with someone who she thought wanted to be with someone else. She couldn't imagine it was all that nice a feeling.
She really wanted to explain to Ronon that she did want to go to the dance with him, and not just to spite John. But how did you explain something like that without making it more than just words?
For the duration of lunchtime, words sufficed; but when the bell rang, Elizabeth still had no answer to the question.
- TBC -
Part Seven