Smitty (smittywing) wrote,
Smitty
smittywing

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This is not really fic.

I said to reccea last night that I wanted to write something short and have it be finished. (I always get this way when I hit about page 30 of something and realize it's nowhere near done.) And I really have no time and all my other ideas have the potential to spiral into huge epics.

So I present het, written right into the LJ window, and it really kinda sucks. Possibly I will regret not locking this soon.

SGA: Sweet Spot
Weir/Caldwell
I dunno, PG


Sweet Spot

Elizabeth never locks her top desk drawer. When the Tootsie Rolls appear, as if by magic, she thinks she knows who put them there.

A month later, she gets an upgrade, to Hershey Kisses. She thinks she knows why and lets them melt slowly on her tongue to let him know she found them.

After a particularly contentious 'discussion,' she finds Godiva truffles and knows she's won. Fortunately for him, she's gracious enough to share.

The Daedalus goes missing for three weeks and there's no chocolate in her drawer, when she most needs it. John brings her conciliatory pudding after she snaps his head off, but it's not chocolate. If she wasn't so worried about the Daedalus, she'd worry a little that John will never understand women.

When Rodney finally pulls the Daedalus out of the pocket universe, its hull and its captain both worse for the wear, Elizabeth shares the bar of Callebaut dark she's been saving with him as they sit in the infirmary, waiting for Carson to tell them whether Colonel Caldwell will pull through. John shows up after taking charge of the crew and produces a deck of cards to distract her. They play rummy until Carson appears, tired but smiling, and the other three pretend they don't see the tears in her eyes.

"Have you checked your drawer lately?" Steven asks as he takes his leave of Atlantis once again.

"I usually wait until you leave," she responds, mystified that he's verbalized the game at last.

"Maybe you should check while I'm still here," he suggests, and so she does.

Instead of chocolate, it's gold and diamonds and he says, "I'm getting too old for this."

She closes the box. He could offer her all the chocolate on Earth and it still couldn't compete with Atlantis.

"I'm sorry," she says, but he's commanded a ship, he knows what it means to commit yourself to a place, to people, to a position.

"Colonel Sheppard says there's good fishing off the East Pier," Steven says, lifting her chin with his thumb. "Sure you won't reconsider?"

"Only if you promise," she says, melting under his touch, "that the cake will be chocolate."
Tags: fic, sga
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