Disclaimer: Not mine. Set: eh. Anytime. Rating: PG, if that.
Complete fluff. Sheppard/Weir COMPLETELY A.j.'s fault!

No Doubt For These Tired Eyes by ALC

Dawn breaks, and John Sheppard wakes himself up just enough to shift, to turn before the alarm goes off, and watch the woman waking up beside him.

This is when he loves her best. When all her defenses are down, and she's just waking up, her eyes full of sleep and dreams that he will never know. This is when Elizabeth Weir is his.

He never tells her this, of course. Would never let her see how much he craves those twenty seconds before she's fully awake and aware enough to look at him with that slight spark of caution. Even now, after six months of sleeping together, she still isn't quite willing to give up that last spark of "this isn't quite permanent."

She is still breath-takingly beautiful when rumpled from sleep. He frequently tells her that, because he knows she'll flush slightly. Not that she believes him.

There's very little that he says that she believes.

Except for when he's falling asleep, and his defenses are gone, and he mumbles words into her neck or hair or throat that perhaps he shouldn't. There is no light, then. He doesn't have to see her eyes, and know that she thinks he is lying.

But John Sheppard doesn't plan on taking them back.

If he did, it would do something to him, undermine their relationship in a way he can't afford.

Because for twenty seconds a day, Elizabeth Weir is completely his.

And for all the rest of the day, he is hers.

Somehow, he doesn't think she knows it.