Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis (things would be so different if I did) and no money was made from this. No copyright infringement is intended and any similarity to any other story not my own is coincidence.
Title: Inama Nushif
Rating:
No higher than PG
Timeline:
After "First Strike"

Author's Note: I have not seen "First Strike" but I have been spoiled and know some of what may happen, this story is in response to that, so be warned that it does contain some level of spoilers. (you have been warned) (grin) "Inama Nushif" means "She is eternal." And the Japanese translation is meant to say, "Your face; I touch it just so, and dream a dream that fades in the morning." It's from the song Suteki da Ne.
Inama Nushif

It was the soft hint of jasmine that alerted him to her presence. He always imagined that he caught the barest whisper of the scent when she came to him. Next was the warm feel of her hand gliding ever so briefly from his shoulder and down his arm. Delicate, strong fingers circled his, and after a moment's hesitation, John clasped her hand in his.

He thought he heard the quiet rhythm of her breath just to the right of him where he felt her standing next to him while he sat on the bed. He kept his head bowed though, still not looking in her direction, and letting the silence between them grow heavy with everything that he had never said.

He knew what her hair would look like, loose and dark in the soft light of the room. He didn't need to look over to know how it curved around her ears and brushed her shoulders. She was wearing her light green blouse, the one that brought out the ocean green hue of her eyes. And her subtle curves and long legs were clad in her customary black pants. He could even imagine that he heard the soft tick of her watch on her other arm.

"John."

Her voice was a memory of ocean waves and balcony breezes.

"John."

He felt her move to stand at the end of the bed and in front of him. He could see her bare feet as he kept his head bowed, still not looking up.

"John."

He could hear the curve of a smile in her voice and knew what that would look like on her soft lips. It almost made him glance up in a desire to see that. He could feel the whisper of her free hand then as it brushed through his unruly hair.

"I could be mistaken, but I think it's actually gotten even more unmanageable sinceā€¦"

"Elizabeth," he said, interrupting her.

"I always wondered what it would feel like."

He was certain that he could feel her fingers brush through the strands of his hair, then dance along the curve of his ear.

"Your ears."

Again, John heard the hint of a smile in her voice and knew how it would curve her lips in a way that he had always liked to see.

"John."

He felt her slip her hand free of his. She lay it lightly against the rough, dark stubble shadowing his cheek. Her other hand mirrored the one already on his face so that she could cradle his head in her hands.

"John."

She tried to gently bring his face up, but he resisted and waited for her to leave, as she always had before at this point. But he was surprised when she knelt in front of him instead, her hands still warm against his skin. Again, she tried to coax him into looking at her.

"I want to see you too," she said softly.

The words caught at him, and finally, John gave in to the desire to see Elizabeth's eyes looking into his. She smiled at him, and John felt his heart beat almost painfully in his chest.

"This isn't possible, I know," he murmured, even as he leaned forward to kiss her, and it was everything he had imagined.

"It was never really possible," Elizabeth replied almost sadly when John finally pulled away.

"It was," John countered. "We just never let it happen. We always let it be between us like a wall, instead of a bridge."

Elizabeth quirked her eyebrow.

"That's what I thought you would say," John said with a wry grin.

"What else did you think I would say?"

"That I'm dreaming."

"Sono kao; sotto furete, asa ni tokeru, yume miru," she murmured in softly accented Japanese. "Maybe I'm the one dreaming. Is this my dream or yours?"

John reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair before pulling her in for one more kiss. She let him.

"You didn't speak Japanese," John murmured sadly, watching as Elizabeth faded. He looked around the quiet room, everything just as she had left it. He held back the ache and the tears that he could feel threatening, ducked his head instead. "It's my dream," he murmured.

Fin