An Exercise in Futility Pt 5
Oct. 20th, 2008 02:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marguerite_kruxRating: PG. I couldn't write R if I TRIED. >_<
Disclaimer: If SGA were mine, Sparky would be canon.
A/N: Aaaand in breaking news, OMG, the alien dude at the center of the whole fight between Lizzeh and Shep finally gets a name! Whee! I suck at devising alien names, but it had to be done…
Additional disclaimer: I take my cue from eps such as Duet and Irresistible, which set the mood here- my ship likes to tease each other. Seriously, Shep is occasionally on par with the little boy pulling on the little girl’s pigtails to show his affection. Or at least, that’s how he is in this chapter. -shrugs-
An Exercise in Futility Pt 5
From pros and cons, they fell into a warmer way of disputing.
-Cervantes
Before he could fully ponder this startling realization, the shifting in perception, Elizabeth spoke again without the edginess of a few minutes before, and he abandoned the idea of further introspection til he could mull over it in solitude.
“I’m going to spell this out so that there is no misunderstanding. The people of Ciaran are our newest allies, John, and I'd really like to be able to keep one for a change…” Her wry tone took the sting out of the implied criticism. “So please? Don't jeopardize this. Not without reason. Is there something I should know about?”
In light of this fragile and newly formed truce, John wondered exactly how forthcoming he should be, and the wisdom of divulging the reasons for his antipathy towards Davidar ‘Call me Davi’ Leowen, the Ciaran leader. While he wrestled with his conscience, Elizabeth rose from her chair- his chair, he reminded himself, no matter how indelibly she had stamped it with her authority- and came round the desk, settling on it in a style vaguely reminiscent of his own casual perch on her desk when he tried to distract her from work. She braced her arms against the desk, tilted her head enquiringly at him. Her whole body language, from her casual pose to the deliberate closing of the distance between them, invited openness and confidences.
“This is your chance to tell me what’s been bothering you…otherwise I expect you to be completely professional and behave yourself in future negotiations.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“He...gives me the creeps.” John kept his eyes on her hands, watching her long elegant fingers suddenly clench. He had a sinking feeling she was envisaging them wrapping around his neck and throttling him for that last statement.
“What?” she asked flatly.
“He's creepy.” John knew he should quit while the going was good, but she had asked for his honest opinion. “You didn't notice?”
“I don't believe this.”
“Really, it was disturbing the way he was just fixated on you the whole time-”
“Hardly!” Elizabeth was working her way back up to exasperation again. He really should stop with this whole confession thing, it only seemed to help him dig an even deeper hole for himself. “I am the leader of Atlantis, he is the leader of the people we are newly allied with-”
“Oh, a match made in heaven...”
“Of course he's going to be attentive-”
“Any more attentive and his eyes would have leapt out from his sockets to your-” John paused deliberately, letting innuendo and her imagination fill in the blanks, then finished more delicately- “collar.”
Elizabeth sighed heavily. “Much as I’d like to dismiss this as the fevered imaginings brought on by an over-indulgence of alien refreshments…by the way,” she interrupted herself to ask, “You did get checked out by Carson when you returned?”
“Yeah, he said the blood-work came back within acceptable parameters, though there are some more in-depth results he’s waiting on. He’ll let us know.”
“There better be something there to account for your behavior,” she muttered. “Anyhow, I recall you made several subtle digs at Counselor Leowen before we even got to dinner, so that can’t be the sole cause. I'm going to chalk this up to some weird male territorial issue and advise you to get over it. Without anything more substantial to go on, you will proceed on the basis that he is a gracious-”
“Lecherous…”
She gritted her teeth and went on, “Helpful, benign-”
'And your average dirty old-‘ John continued blithely, then stopped short at her impatient glare. He blinked, then said defensively, “Oh, come on, if you'd seen the way he was gawking at you all night when you weren’t looking, you wouldn't be defending him.”
Elizabeth raised her hands in a quelling motion and then, shaking her head in exasperation, headed for the door.
“It might help if you wore something a little more...nun-like, what do you call those outfits they wear, the heavy dresses that cover them from neck to toe?” John asked, following her out of his office. “Habits, yeah. Find one of those for the next trade negotiation and we'll see how attentive he is then.”
“Wait, are you now blaming my choice of clothing?” she shot him a dirty look as he kept pace with her down the hall. “First he was a creepy lecher, now I'm- what? Inappropriately attired?”
“I'm just suggesting a scientific study on the correlation between the proportion of clothing worn and the concessions made by males in a bargaining situation.”
“What are you insinuating about my negotiating tactics exactly?”
“It's a slippery slope, that's all I'm saying, Elizabeth...' He considering baiting her about the use of sexual favors in negotiating, but figured that probably broke some rule in their sparring guidelines. Besides, while it was one thing to taunt Cadman about her pretty face easing the pressure of first contact situations, or jesting about trading Lorne for supplies, it just didn't seem right making that kind of crack about Elizabeth, let alone to her face. So he tempered his words. A little. “First the necklines go down, then the hemlines go up…”
At least he could wistfully imagine that happening, though it wasn’t likely to occur anytime soon. He’d never seen Elizabeth’s bare legs. It probably wasn’t professional, not to mention practical, to wear skirts around a place like Atlantis, but damn, he really wanted to enforce that dress code now. Strictly women only, though- he really had no desire to see Carson in a traditional Scottish kilt.
“Teyla has worn much more revealing outfits and you have never once mentioned it,” Elizabeth pointed out, dragging his attention back to their conversation and away from the delightful distraction offered by contemplating her legs.
“But Elizabeth,” he gave her a horrified look, “She's an alien. We can't judge her by human social standards.”
“Oh, but I'm a suitable candidate for criticism.”
“Definitely. I feel no guilt at judging you whatsoever.”
“I'm so glad I was born human and am therefore eligible to suffer your criticism without causing you any guilt or remorse. I don't know how I could sleep at night otherwise. Of course, now I'm going to be having nightmares about causing a diplomatic incident by wearing the wrong outfit, so I can't thank you enough.”
“It is my duty as ranking military officer to bring such details to your attention, ma'am,” he intoned pretentiously.
“Of course. But while you're thumbing through your copy of the Military Commander's Rules of Etiquette, do you think you might be able to find the chapter on 'Proper Conduct When Dealing with Allies'? Because it really is counterproductive to have you standing by my side, glaring daggers at the other party. Hostility has a strange effect of reducing another person's desire to compromise.”
“Oh,” John had perfected his expression of chagrin. 'We're working with completely different scripts here, I thought we were doing the Pegasus version of 'good cop, bad cop'...”
“Oh, yes, very smooth, very original. In summary,' Elizabeth said over her shoulder, as they neared the transporter, “You will behave with the utmost courtesy and outward show of respect towards Leowen. If you can't manage that, then don't bother escorting me to any future meetings. I won't have any more male posturing.” She stopped suddenly and turned, with John only just managing to avoid a collision. “And no more snide comments about creepy old men.” She held his eyes for a few moments, searing the instruction into his brain, then turned back to the transporter, muttering, 'Between Rodney pestering me about ZPMs and your stringent superficial requirements of prospective allies...” Elizabeth uttered a sigh of disgust and John hid a grin of amusement at how easily she could make him feel like a little boy again.
She entered the chamber, and quickly turned to plant her arms on either side of the door, preventing his entry. “And stop following me.” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Weren’t you going to finish off your overdue reports? I assume that’s the reason you were in such a hurry to get to your office this morning.” Her sweet smile dared him to correct that assumption.
Trapped again. He had to hand it to her, she knew exactly what strings to pull to make him dance to her tune. Meekly turning back to get some paperwork done was the lesser of the two evils- he knew she would find endless ways to prolong the agony if he was dumb enough to explain that no, the reason he’d been fleeing through the city that morning was to avoid her wrath.
Before the doors slid shut, they locked eyes once more. And his held an expression of appreciation and an admission that this round went to her. Hers held a smugness that suggested there was never any question over who the victor would be.
--
A/N: I confess, this story has totally not worked out the way I planned. Or rather, imagined, since I never work to plans, which is probably where I go astray. This chapter was written first, before I decided it needed a chapter before it to set the scene, and now at last, I post it with a few revisions as the FIFTH chapter of this story. -headdesk-
This is where the story originally was meant to end; Elizabeth and Shep get a bit snappy, then return to playful bickering and everything fades to black. So the main plot I intended to write has been concluded. However, a tiny plot thread I wove in earlier suddenly took on a life of its own, and that is what I'll be continuing with, when I thrash out the finer details.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-20 05:23 am (UTC)ALso, his explanation about thinking the guy was creepy, lecherous etc. The delivery was spot on, I saw it in my head and giggled some more.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-20 05:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-20 06:29 pm (UTC)Do we get a bit of ship here? A kiss? Or something?
I don't want you to feel pressured, I just need fluff right now, lots and lots of it.
Also, I love your intelligent and witty writing style. Way to go!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-23 11:25 pm (UTC)He likes to tease me like this, aka. behave like a brat and drive me nuts. So, definitely true love!
Ahaha, that's so awesome. I mean, how irritating but awww, that's just cute he knows you so well and how to rile you up, lol.
Do we get a bit of ship here? A kiss? Or something?
Ohhh...I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not too sure I'll be going down that path. I mean...I love reading fluff and romance but I'm appalling at writing the stuff. Themes like friendship and affection, honor and duty and sacrifice, I can imitate from what I see onscreen or fake, but relationship stuff...? I leave that to the experts.
Also, I love your intelligent and witty writing style. Way to go!
Thanks so much for the praise! It's always great to hear such positive feedback, but extra special when it's from a Sparky writer like you. ♥