An Exercise in Futility- Pt 2

[marguerite_krux]

Summary: Elizabeth catches up with Shep. Drama ensues.
Rating: Still fairly tame and non-childhood-trama-causing.
Disclaimer: I wouldn't be close to a mental breakdown if SGA were under my control and thus, Torri were still full-time.

Refuge Compromised

 

 

John stared at Elizabeth, wondering for a wild moment if she was an illusion. “What are you doing here?” he demanded accusingly, too surprised to repress the ill-considered question.

 

A second later, when faced with her withering glance, he wished he had kept quiet. Now was not the time to be putting Elizabeth on the defensive. It only inspired her to throw out the rulebook on proportionate responses and strike back with staggering force. Lorne had told him how she’d practically dared the Magistrate from Olesia to engage in a shoot-off, after the man unwisely stonewalled her in the search for John and his team. When the Olesian didn’t have the balls to stand up to her challenge, nervously twitching as she froze him in place with intense furious eyes, she dismissively stalked past him and his guards, leaving them shaken and emasculated in her wake.

 

“Come on,” John said, “You’re exaggerating, that’s got to be artistic license, right?”

 

Lorne had shook his head, “I swear to you, she was exactly that hardcore. The Magistrate was sweating like anything and then when she headed for the exit, he and the lackeys with the guns skittered out of her path like leaves in gale force winds.”

 

John had enjoyed Lorne’s lurid rendition of the events, regretting that he had literally been tied up and missed the performance instigated on his behalf. But now he felt a little sympathy, even kinship, for the hapless Olesians that had been confronted by Elizabeth’s wrath. It was fun to watch her on the rare occasions she found it necessary to destroy people, but decidedly less so now that she happened to target him. However, he had always managed to get her to dial it down from ‘complete destruction’ to ‘mildly crucify’ when she had come after him in the past, though he hadn’t found this useful ability necessary recently and fervently hoped he wasn’t out of practice.

 

First step: avoidance.

 

“I must be in the wrong place,” John said, trying for a harmless nonchalant attitude. “I’ll let you carry on…doing whatever you were doing before I rudely interrupted,” he took a step back towards the door, “and I’ll just go find-”

 

“A place to hide?” she finished smoothly.

 

He halted, stung by how completely- accurate that statement was. Damn Elizabeth’s perceptiveness. And the neat way in which she’d trapped him, because there was no way in hell he was admitting to it, yet he wouldn’t- she knew he couldn’t- lie to her. Creatively stretch the truth, maybe; change the subject, even better; but never an outright lie.

 

“Or maybe you were looking for your office?” she went on, raising her hands and gesturing at the room dramatically. “You’ve certainly found it, although given that it was under a few layers of dust when I first let myself in…” Elizabeth couldn’t resist a small smirk at this point, “I’m guessing you haven’t been here in months, so it’s no surprise you don’t recognize it.”

 

Well, it was so nice that she’d given him a way out, even in the midst of poking fun at him. “Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, “All these rooms look alike, and you know, what with impending doom from various alien attacks that threaten us every other week, it’s definitely been a while since I’ve been here.” John studied her features, but she didn’t appear to be softening to him at all. Damn. Elizabeth: 3. Boyish charm: 0. He really needed to start a new count or this would depress him later.

 

“Why don’t you take a seat, John?”

 

He looked at her warily, while she gave him a tight smile that tried to convince him: I won’t bite, even as her eyes warned, Don’t piss me off, I’m running out of places to hide the bodies. Which kept him from making any snide comments about how she was ordering him around his own office. Sure, he might not visit more than a few times a year but it was supposed to be his domain and there she was, sitting in his chair- and boy, there was something wrong with his brain when that made him flashback to Goldilocks and the three bears, more specifically the part regarding ‘who’s been sleeping in my bed?’ which was a totally inappropriate line of thought at most times and possibly suicidal when he wasn’t in favor with her right now and needed to concentrate on sweet-talking his way out of this one.

 

But instead he pondered how it was that she looked a whole lot more impressive and imposing than he ever had in that very chair, behind that same desk. Maybe it had something to do with the way he tended to slouch into a comfortable position when he sat whereas Elizabeth’s posture made any seat she took automatically attain the official rank of Chair of Authority. It was practically her trademark.

 

“Now,” she said sharply, evidently realizing she didn’t have his undivided attention, “Would you like to explain your behavior to me?”

 

That direct question led him to step two: denial.

 

“What behavior?” he said, mentally rolling his eyes at himself. That was kinda lame. This was came of staying in Elizabeth’s good books for so long, he was rusty at the art of defusing her volatile mood.

 

“What is your problem with him?” she asked, carefully enunciating each word with exaggerated patience.

 

He couldn’t really deny knowing which ‘him’ she meant. Now, was step three ‘stall’ or- crap, he was out of inspiration. John sighed despondently. This conversation was going to be fun.

 

After wracking his mind and failing to come up with anything better, he fenced, “What makes you think I have a problem with anyone?”

 

Elizabeth was visibly grinding her teeth together. Definitely not a good sign. “The fact that you drew a gun on him gave it away. And try answering my questions instead of pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about because that really isn’t going to make this conversation end any sooner,” she said pointedly, and nodded as he squirmed. “So?”

 

“I think the alien beverages may have clouded my judgment,” he ventured. Hey, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that something in those drinks had an adverse effect on him. His team had certainly tasted their fair share of drug-tainted meals. “Some of the other guys said they felt a little funny afterwards. You might want to avoid-”

 

“I felt no side-effects,” she said dismissively. “Of course, it may have been due to the fact that I wasn’t indulging my appetite by scoffing everything in sight. You might want to be a little less enthusiastic the next time, John, otherwise they’ll demand more in return for their crops. And since weapons are off the table, as the last time we tried our hands at being weapons dealers, things didn’t work out too well, I need every advantage we have.”

 

Now that really stung. And it was uncalled for. Elizabeth hadn’t been this bitchy in- ever, and she certainly hadn’t thrown the Genii mess in his face even back when he really deserved it. He felt like they were back in their first year here, when they had each been trying to maintain jurisdiction and control, struggling to find common ground and at odds over what agenda they were pursuing in every crisis that came up.

 

But while John wanted to take it personally, while he wanted to use that gibe as an excuse to avenge his injured pride- and after all this time together, he knew exactly where to strike- in a sudden flash of insight, he realized that it was less an attack on him and more an inadvertent expression of her own vulnerability. It wasn’t like her to lash out at people like this, and she never would have made a professional conflict so…personal with anyone else. Even last year, when she’d been furious with Rodney and the whole city had been privy to the details of his dressing-down, it had been a response that anyone who was in charge of a man who had destroyed five-sixths of a galaxy would make or at least understand, and more importantly, it had never been about her. That stern reprimand was to make Rodney realize that he had screwed up majorly and to take responsibility for the mess he’d made and damn well never pull a stunt like that ever again or else.

 

This conversation now, with her snide remarks and obvious baiting, spoke to some other underlying cause. He looked at her closely, trying to assess her without being too obvious, and noted the little things that were ‘off’. Elizabeth had pulled her hair into a careless ponytail, as though she couldn’t be bothering brushing her hair properly that morning. Her fingers were tightly laced together on his desk, showing strain, and he saw that she wasn’t wearing the watch she normally wore every day; forgetting something that basic suggested she had been distracted and preoccupied, which definitely wasn’t her usual MO. And had her cheekbones always been so sharply defined, her collarbones so painfully prominent?

 

No. The real situation here was that Elizabeth was under a lot of pressure, she was stressed, making her irritable, and she was subconsciously taking it out on him. One way of looking at it was that it showed trust in him, that in her heart she knew she could pick a fight with him and it would blow over without leaving a dent in their relationship, that she could afford to let down the normal barriers that kept all the tension and anxiety inside her so that everyone else in the city could take strength from her strength, from her calm self-assurance and confidence, from knowing they could rely on her being there for them no matter what disaster cropped up next.

 

The other way of looking at it was that it kinda sucked to be him right now, dealing with attacks on a professional and personal level when he didn’t have the heart to return it in kind. Because in all honesty, putting his pride aside, he had it coming.

 

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[(Anonymous)]

Where's part 3?