Beta: jr_moon & the_alianne
Characters: John Sheppard, Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett
Summary: Game day at Langford U. Set between Sometimes and Dot Com.
Author's Note: Written for the auficathon for elvinborn . Sorry for the delay! *offers cookies and chocolate*
He couldn’t recall how long they already had their hands intertwined together or how it had happened in the first place, but he didn’t really care. He absolutely savoured the moment of having her hand in his and wondered if she had already realised what was happening.
She had delicate fingers; he’d never thought her hand would feel so fragile against the roughness of his palm. Her skin was soft, a little damp from the heat and maybe also the fear for him when he got nailed down by the opposite team’s captain. A cynical foul, it would have been the final goal that turned things even more in their favour and the game would have been as good as won.
He still felt heavily dizzy and hardly noticed all the bustling and swarming around him, only Elizabeth’s hand in his. His gaze wandered around without concentrating on anything till he met her eyes full of concern. Her green was a shade darker tinged with alarm and maybe a bit of anger at him. It was game day after all and the final soccer match; it was supposed to be fun. Still, he wasn’t the one who had knocked someone out. So he couldn’t quite make sense of what he saw in her eyes.
A few minutes later, spread out on the bench outside the lawn, he felt remarkably better and Elizabeth’s hand in his made everything better anyway. Carson was fussing around with several paraphernalia, blinding him with his lamp and poking him here and there just like a doctor did after a crash into the grass.
“I wanna sit.”
“I think you better off down there, lad.”
“I’m fine, I wanna sit!” he mumbled again, and ignoring Carson’s advice, staggered into a sitting position.
“Woah.” The world was spinning before his eyes and he laid back down instantly.
“Told you so, you got quite a knock on the head.”
Elizabeth’s thumb started to draw weird patterns on his hand. That wasn’t stroking, was it? Maybe his mind played tricks on him. Out of curiosity John lifted his head a little bit and saw it was no hallucination.
Ten minutes later her hand was still safely in his and Carson had finally stopped poking him. Eventually John sat again without feeling dizzy. His eyes landed on their intertwined hands exactly the same time Elizabeth’s did. He almost felt like back in high school. They looked up at the same time and their eyes met for a second, but the final whistle that ended the game saved both of them from the need to explain. Elizabeth retrieved her hand and blushed heavily. The brawling and chanting of the teams luckily made it hard to strike up any kind of conversation. So they just sat there and observed the bustling activity around them.
“Where is this Radim guy?” John asked as the noise of celebration quieted down a bit, his eyes observing the soccer field.
“I can’t see him anymore; I think he already went into hiding. He was probably afraid of your oncoming vengeance,” Carson said in a playful voice.
“Coward,” he growled.
“Now I have to bring Rodney for one month home-baked cake every day.”
“You made a wager?” Elizabeth asked amused.
“Unfortunately, Rodney didn’t think I would be able to make a damn goal for our team. It was so easy; I should have scored that one… I’ll probably stick to lemon cake, easy to make and he will surely enjoy it.” He chuckled and the others joined him.
“I’ll drive you home,” Elizabeth said on the spur of the moment.
“I’ll drive you home; you surely can’t control a car in your condition.”
“Elizabeth is right about this, lad.”
“Thanks, but you don’t have to, I’ll get myself a cab.”
“No no no, it’s fine.”
“So we better go, before Rodney peeks in and enjoys his triumph,” John stated.
“No problem and take it easy for the rest of the day.”
They waved goodbye and made their way quietly to the car enjoying each others presence. The game day had apparently been a full success for Langford; they were victorious in most of their games. They had beaten the Genii the sixth year in a row in soccer, even without John’s glorious goal. It had been the last game and the sun already touched the ground at the end of the horizon.
Elizabeth stopped the engine in front of John’s apartment.
“Sooo,” Elizabeth repeated and giggled. It sounded cute and yet a bit strange when Elizabeth made these sounds, because they were so rarely heard from her, John observed.
“I’m going to crash into my bed now. Thank you for driving me home.”
“Anytime. Good night and don’t exhaust yourself any further, you heard what Carson said.”
“I can’t promise you, I won’t kick someone’s butt in my dreams.”
“Good night,” He said, before John leaned in and kissed her gently on the cheek.
“And thank you,” he added putting a stubborn lock back behind her ear. His hand lingered longer than appropriate on her cheek.
Elizabeth’s eyes closed for a second before they met his. “How did I deserve this?”
“For holding my hand…,” He hadn’t intended to bring that up again, but it was the truth.
Elizabeth didn’t use any words in return, instead her lips twisted into a beautiful, yet shy smile.
“Good night, ‘Lizabeth.”
Later that night John was tossing and turning in his bed. He just couldn’t find any sleep. His mind revolved around everything that had happened during the day and especially Elizabeth holding his hand and their more than unusual good-bye.
He was slowly beginning to get it.