The Green Eyed Boy Kissed the Autumn Eyed Girl
Colonel Sheppard sighed deeply. Pride and Prejudice had definitely been the wrong book to choose. He ran a hand through his touseled dark hair.
"Dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth," he read.
"Definitely the wrong book," he murmured.
John sighed and swung his legs over the side of his bed, setting the book aside. Unable to sleep, or be distracted from his increasingly vivid thoughts, he finally stood up and began to pace. His eye caught at the flame detailed skateboard resting carelessly against the wall, and he briefly considered taking the board into the corridors.
With a small sound of amusement and a half-smile, John pictured coasting down the broad corridors. Then he dismissed the idea when he thought of what Elizabeth might say about that.
"Maybe not," he smirked.
Then he saw his guitar resting carefully against another wall.
"That'll work," he said quietly into the still room. Deftly, he plucked the instrument from its resting place and headed out his door.
So late at night, the corridors of Atlantis were filled with only the hushed murmurs of the ocean and the Ancient rythmns of the city itself. It was soothing as John made his way to the nearest transporter. On the other side, he continued down the quiet corridors until he reached the small Zen garden room and balcony that he had found some weeks ago.
John walked past the intricate rock garden with its delicate crystal fountain and out onto the balcony. Once there, he took a deep breath of the cool night air and savored the feel of the gentle breeze whispering against his skin. He looked up to see the clouds skimming across the sky, illuminated softly by the silver moon. And then he took in the view of the glittering City spread out before him, waves rippling gently against the piers.
"Elizabeth would love this," he murmured, reminding himself to tell her when he next had the chance. Then he looked for a good place to settle with his guitar.
He found one against one of the walls, and settled with the instrument comfortably in his hands. Almost absently, he ran his fingertips over the strings, simply letting his fingers find random notes and harmonies. But unbidden, thoughts of Elizabeth took over and the random melodies and notes started to form themselves into a song.
"As the music, at the banquet…" he sang experimentally, fitting feelings to melody. "As the wine before the meal…"
"Yup, Johnny boy," he sighed, his fingers falling still against the strings. "You've gone and stupidly started falling for Elizabeth." He smiled wryly to himself. "What a monumentally stupid thing to go and do. Of all the women the Pegasus galaxy…" he sighed.
"Of all the women…" he murmured, as he pictured Elizabeth smiling in the way that only he could seem to get her to do. And as he did so, John brushed his fingers over the strings of his guitar again.
"As the music, at the banquet; as the wine before the meal; as the firelight in the night…so are you to me," he sang in a low, almost melancholy voice.
As the soft notes lingered in the air, John finally gave in and let himself get lost in thoughts of Elizabeth. He pictured the way she looked when she stood on the balcony, her soft curls catching the sunlight and blowing gently in the breeze. He thought about the inherent strength and grace she possessed. He remembered the countless times that he had been impressed by her wit and intelligence.
"I've never seen her look at someone the way she looks at you. I've never seen her as close to someone as she is to. She obviously, you know…" Rodney had said.
John smiled wryly to himself again, his fingertips once more falling still on the strings of his instrument. "And I obviously, you know…" he trailed off quietly. "And that is so complicated, I'm not sure I even want to think about it."
The problem was, John wasn't sure he had that choice anymore. "Because it's Elizabeth," he said with a wry grin before he began to play, the words holding a world of meaning.
"As the music at the banquet; as the wine before the meal; as the firelight in the night…so are you to me," he sang once more in a deep soft voice, his fingers light on the guitar strings.
"It's beautiful," a gentle voice said, causing John to stop once more and look over.
As if he had conjured the Atlantean leader from his thoughts, Elizabeth stood leaning against the doorframe of the garden balcony. And John found himself tracing every slender line and curve of her body with quietly yearning eyes. His fingers ached to run through her soft auburn hair and caress her cheek with his fingertips. He wanted to know what her lips would feel like beneath his. More than that, he wanted to simply be on this balcony with Elizabeth Weir.
"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly. "I didn't mean to intrude."
"You're not intruding," he assured her, offering an unspoken invitation for Elizabeth to remain and scooting aside so that she could sit down next to him.
She accepted the silent invitation and settled down near him.
"So this is when I ask the obviously stupid question right? Can't sleep?" He asked conversationally, giving her a lopsided smile meant to charm that she returned with a wry one of her own.
"And I answer with, no.You?" Elizabeth returned playfully.
John nodded comfortably and returned his attention back to the instrument in his lap. After a moment of warm silence, "Is there more?" She asked softly. "Will you sing for me?"
John looked into her eyes a moment before he took a deep breath and began to play gently, the tune lilting and softly melancholy in its romance. As he played, a light rain started to fall, the drops sparkling in the twilight and their simple rhythm blending with the melody of John's song.
"As the music at the banquet; as the wine before meal; as the firelight in the night," he began again.
"…so are you to me," he sang as he looked into her autumn eyes.
"As the ruby in the setting; as the fruit upon the tree; as the wind blows over the plains…so are you to me," John sang for her, his voice deep and sweet and his gaze quietly passionate.
"As the wind blows over the plains, so are you to me…so are you to me," he finished, letting the notes linger in the air before he stilled his fingers on the strings.
Elizabeth said nothing, but there was a darkness of unspoken emotion deepening the rich green of her eyes. John took a deep breath and set his guitar aside as he rose. He held out a hand.
"Dance with me?" John asked, smiling irresistibly.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in mild surprise, "What?"
"Come dance with me, Elizabeth," he repeated, offering her a lopsided smile full of boyish charm.
"What, here? Now?" The Atlantean leader asked. "It's raining."
"Elizabeth," John said, still offering her his hand, his expression coaxing.
She hesitated a moment before setting her hand in his and letting him help her up. "This is such a bad idea," she said softly.
"I promise, I do know how to dance," John quipped, purposely misunderstanding her comment. "None of your toes will come to any permanent harm. And it's only a little shower, not like a storm at all," he insisted playfully.
"That's not exactly what I meant," Elizabeth replied in a quiet voice.
"I know," John admitted in an equally quiet voice as he lead her further out onto the balcony into the caressing rain.
Gently, he pulled her into his arms, close enough that he could feel her heartbeat next his. And for a moment, he simply savored the feeling. Then he slowly slid his hand to her waist, enjoying the way she shivered lightly at his touch. His other hand grasped hers and brought it to rest with his between them.
Then he began to gracefully lead Elizabeth in a simple, sensuous waltz. As they danced, he couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit in his arms, or how easily they moved together. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes were, looking into his. And he felt that heady sense of something spark between them.
"You're right, this was a bad idea," John murmured as they swayed to a stop. Tenderly, he released her hand so he could brush back the curling tendrils of Elizabeth's hair.
"A really bad idea," he whispered.
Gently, John drew Elizabeth closer; close enough that his lips could hover just above hers, breathing her in.
"'Lizabeth," he caressed her name, drawing it out softly. His breath was warm against her lips, causing Elizabeth to shiver in his arms.
The first kiss was a gentle brush of lips, light and achingly tender. And as they parted, Elizabeth sighed.
"'Lizabeth," he whispered again, cradling her head in his hands and tangling his fingers in her soft curling hair. He drew her closer to kiss her again, savoring the taste of rain on her lips and the indescribable intoxication of Elizabeth pressing into him, deepening the kiss. She tasted of honeyed wine and her lips were the velvet softness of rose petals beneath a thicket of his kisses.
He kissed her breathless as the rain washed over them, exploring every suppressed impulse, every long denied desire. She returned his passion in a heady rush of emotion, her own hands clutching at his now wet black T-shirt.
"John," she gasped when they finally took a moment to catch their breath. "This is…"
"…us jumping off the cliff," he interrupted her gently and urgently. "But Elizabeth, you know the best part of jumping?" John asked tenderly as he traced the raindrops caressing her cheek. "It's learning how to fly."
She met his dark green eyes, seeking something in their depths.
"You really are a hopeless romantic," Elizabeth replied finally. "But maybe you can teach me how to fly," she murmured with a gentle smile.
"I may be a hopeless romantic, but then, so are you," said John . "And I'd say that makes us just about perfect."
She gave him the bright, tender smile that had always made him catch his breath a little because it was the one that she granted only to him.
"Then I have the prefect idea," she murmured.
Elizabeth reached over to cradle his face in her delicate hands and drew him down for a kiss, her fingers tangling in his dark tousled hair.
"Perfect," he whispered against her lips before he smiled and deepened the caress, making the moment last forever as they stood on the garden balcony, kissing in the rain…