ficlet post: "Cheaper Than Therapy"
Zelenka/Weir fluff for rosewildeirish. ~250 words.
Cheaper Than Therapy
What Elizabeth would like most, right now, is for everyone -- especially scientists, especially, honestly, Rodney and Radek and their incessant, grade-school-reminiscent bickering -- to leave her alone.
She would like to have a warm bath and no work to do, would like to have no one relying on her. She wishes it was enough to be strong for herself, but she has to be strong for a cityfull of scientists and soldiers and refugees, and some days (today, every day) she knows she doesn't have the strength.
"Look!" Radek always bounds into her office with seemingly bottomless energy and effortless cheer. "Look what I have discover--" He stops short; she hasn't had the strength to lift her head from her hands. Somewhere deep inside, she burns with embarassment, because he is seeing her like this. "Is something wrong? What may I --?"
"Nothing. Forgive me. Let me see your work." She shakes her head as if she could brush away a week's worth of insomnia and stress.
"Dr. Weir." She looks into his eyes for the first time (today, ever) and sees -- not pity. Pity she couldn't endure. Compassion, perhaps. "I am sorry. I will return at some other -- is there anything I can do?"
She laughs, raises an eyebrow. "You any good at massage?" Her voice is light, teasing. Just a joke.
But he rolls up his sleeves, closes the door thoughtfully behind him, says, "Surprisingly yes."
She will never stop being surprised by her city, by her people, by Czech scientists with flyaway hair.
Cheaper Than Therapy
What Elizabeth would like most, right now, is for everyone -- especially scientists, especially, honestly, Rodney and Radek and their incessant, grade-school-reminiscent bickering -- to leave her alone.
She would like to have a warm bath and no work to do, would like to have no one relying on her. She wishes it was enough to be strong for herself, but she has to be strong for a cityfull of scientists and soldiers and refugees, and some days (today, every day) she knows she doesn't have the strength.
"Look!" Radek always bounds into her office with seemingly bottomless energy and effortless cheer. "Look what I have discover--" He stops short; she hasn't had the strength to lift her head from her hands. Somewhere deep inside, she burns with embarassment, because he is seeing her like this. "Is something wrong? What may I --?"
"Nothing. Forgive me. Let me see your work." She shakes her head as if she could brush away a week's worth of insomnia and stress.
"Dr. Weir." She looks into his eyes for the first time (today, ever) and sees -- not pity. Pity she couldn't endure. Compassion, perhaps. "I am sorry. I will return at some other -- is there anything I can do?"
She laughs, raises an eyebrow. "You any good at massage?" Her voice is light, teasing. Just a joke.
But he rolls up his sleeves, closes the door thoughtfully behind him, says, "Surprisingly yes."
She will never stop being surprised by her city, by her people, by Czech scientists with flyaway hair.