Six Months Later

I ducked and evaded the first strike aimed in my direction, and ducked again to avoid the second. I kicked out with my right foot, wrapping it round his ankle, a curse of frustration escaping me as instead of his weight hitting the floor, it was mine, flat on my back, air knocked from me. I didn't get up instantly, trying to catch my breath, and glowered up at John Sheppard, who smirked down at me.

"Gonna just sit there?" he taunted.

I aimed a swift kick at his kneecaps and sent him sprawling to the ground beside me. Exhaling, I sat up and peered over at him, feigning deep disappointment. "You just going to sit there?" I stood up, taking a step closer. I folded my arms and looked down with mock disdain. "Shameful."

"I thought it was quite clever really," John replied.

"How so?" I asked. I needn't have bothered. He pulled the same trick I had and kicked me in the kneecaps, only a lot harder. Evidently he was playing to win. And unfortunately I fell right on top of him and he only used that to pin me to the floor, gripping my wrists and holding them above my head.

"Give up?" he questioned.

I grinned. "No," I responded, shifting. "You see, if I was cruel I could jerk my knee rather fast and possibly cause some serious damage…"

John looked quite uncomfortable as that realization hit him and he abruptly released me. As soon as he clambered back to his feet I hooked my foot back round his ankle and upended him again. He hit the floor with a resounding thud as I stood.

"What was that for?"

"For not inflicting the pain I could have…" He'd taught me to be ruthless, even when fighting him, so I felt I had do something. I offered a hand to help him up. "Continue?"

"Yeah," He took my hand and stood, dragging his full weight to throw me off balance, and twisted my arm to my back.

I let out an indignant exclamation and tried to struggle free.

John tightened his grip. "Well?" he prompted.

I shifted my weight and considered actually kicking him where it would hurt that time. "If I just flick my heel up…" I threatened.

"What if I'm not human? What if they don't have those there? What if it's a woman?" he demanded.

I coughed as he tightened his grip further. "Fair enough, I'd be disturbed, and I'd have more chance of hurting a woman my own size!"

"And if she isn't?"

"Well then..." I braced myself. "I guess I'd have to..." I exhaled as I wrapped one leg round his, sending him off balance, before I ducked and tucked my head in, flipping him right over my head when I moved my weight, using his against him. "Do that." I really hoped the crack I heard when he hit the floor wasn't anything breaking. I took the step toward him to close the distance between us, wincing as he emitted a groan of pain.

"…You win…" John reluctantly uttered, dragging another breath of air into his lungs.

I sat down beside him, concerned, and waited for his breathing to slow. I still requested that he instruct me in combat and push me when he had to, even though I had little intention of ever using such training unless forced to. I had worn a weapon for what seemed like so long it had become a part of me…and that sickened me more than I could say. To feel lost without a mechanical piece of technology that would enable you to kill? What had I become? If I thought that was bad, how had I been before? When I wanted the gun? At least now I could say I was partially trained, enough to save my life, in several forms of unarmed (and armed, if I had to admit it) combat. I would have always preferred to be feared for the damage I could do, or repair, with words, rather than actions.

"…Infirmary…?" I asked quietly, when he still hadn't moved.

John slowly shook his head. "…I'm good…"

"I didn't mean to hurt you so badly…"

"Do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Don't say that after you throw someone next time," he quipped.

I smiled. "Sure."

John paused. "…Anything?"

"Yes."

"Come closer."

I leaned over him, concerned, trying to check whether he was actually focusing on anything. Turns out he was. Before I knew what was happening, he'd pulled me even closer and kissed me. What worried me was that it was hesitant. I knew we'd put up a lot more barriers over the past five months, if only to stop ourselves falling into a desperate co-dependency we wouldn't be able to break out of. We hadn't slept together. Not even kissed. There had been hugs and brief embraces, but nothing more. I had said I loved him before, more than once, in other languages, when I was so confused and sometimes said the words because they were all I could feel at the time. But he'd never said the words back. Maybe he hadn't understood. I couldn't doubt that he really did love me. He had proved it more than once. Maybe I just never expected him to say the words. Maybe I was afraid that one day he really would.

"I love you," he said, voice rough and a strangely proud smile on his face.

Maybe I was afraid of today.

I stared down at him for several long moments, in complete shock. Then I realized why he'd never said those words. It had taken him this long. He'd only just been able to grasp that he wasn't going to wake up half-dead in a cell, having endured the longest mental torture session ever. I knew everything now. I'd finally managed to get what I hoped was every detail from him over the past few months. He'd been through hell. More than hell. I hadn't been exactly helpful. But I kept demanding to know until he gave in. Pushed him just like he pushed me. Sometimes it had meant his collapse into a mental wreck for hours on end, but it had to be done. If he was going to talk to anyone, he was going to talk to me. I hated seeing him like that…but it was better than the alternative. He had helped bring me back. I could only do the same for him.

"…I…"

And I knew I didn't need to say the words. He knew. I had known.

So I just kissed him.

Early the next morning, he found me alone on the edge of the east pier, staring out across the ocean. I'd left his bed before he'd woken but at least now I knew he wouldn't take my absence as abandoning him again. We'd made love for the first time in over five months and it was so much worth the wait I was so glad we had turned away from falling into bed to vent our frustrations with each other.

"Little cold out here, don't you think?" John stood behind me, arms around my waist, head resting on my shoulder.

"Just a little." I smiled.

"With the dawn and the leaving bed and the why?" He laughed softly.

"I'm here to do something important…" My voice was low and suddenly very serious.

"What?" he asked, as I stepped away from him. "Elizabeth?"

I looked back at him for a moment, before I unclipped the handgun from my thigh. I stared at it for a few seconds as I took the remaining steps to the edge of the pier, increasing in speed as I hurled the weapon into the sea. I saw it hit the surface with a splash and watched it sink with a great deal of satisfaction. I turned back to John Sheppard with a final sigh and a smile of relief.

"Now I'm free."

Fin