Author's Note: A present for Wendy Jackson; she created Amber, she's just letting me borrow her :). I hope you like it, girl!

Reviews are welcome :)

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Interest

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Amber smiled as she sketched the shape of his face. He was the last one in the picture, and once she got him right, she would be able to begin filling in the details of her drawing. She repositioned herself in her place by the window and erased a few lines that weren't quite right, trying them again and shading the acceptable ones.

"Why do they all have to be so darn attractive?" she muttered, shading a few lines carefully.

"Who?" She looked up in surprise to see the very man she'd been struggling to draw standing before her.

"Colonel Sheppard?" she blinked in surprise, holding her pad against her chest to hide the drawing and flipping her long red ponytail behind her back.

"Really?" He grinned. "I'm that attractive?" Amber frowned.

"Someone thinks highly of themselves," she returned, a little irritated. "As it just so happens, I was talking about the rest of your team; I wouldn't look twice at you."

"I'm assuming that that statement was meant as a compliment, and you were telling me that you wouldn't have to look twice, because you wouldn't be able to look away... Ow!" Amber had slapped him.

"You know, maybe if you had any shame at all, you might actually get the girl one day. As it is, you're out of luck."

"Come on, don't tell me that you're not the least bit flattered that I share your interest in me." He twisted his face into a dramatic fake-pout. Amber rolled her eyes.

"Interest has nothing to do with it," she said firmly. "I was drawing your team because I liked lighting at your table."

"I'll make sure to sit there more often, then," he promised her. Amber grinned a little in spite of herself.

"Good luck with whatever you hope to accomplish," she told him. "I hope that you find someone who can mistake the dazzling light for you."

"I'll take that as a compliment, too," he said, grinning cheekily. "Or at least I'll be hopeful that you meant that in a good way, like I'm secretly dazzling." Amber sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're funny; that'll earn you points if you use it right."

"I'm counting on it."

"If I ever feel bad about myself and need a good laugh, I'll come looking for your face," she promised. To her surprise, John laughed at her.

"You're funny, too," he said. "I think that this could be the start of a beautiful friendship." He paused and looked pointedly at the pad she was concealing. "So can I see my ugly face in your picture? I've heard that you're actually a good artist, in addition to being funny." Amber tightened her grip on the edges of her drawing pad, shaking her head.

"I draw for myself," she explained, "not for display." John shrugged and gave her a quirky little smile.

"If you ever change your mind…" he hinted. She blinked once, surprised at his interest.

"We'll see," Amber replied softly, hearing her light British accent thicken as her voice lowered a bit. Before the man could reply to that, she turned and walked away.

Only when she was alone in her room did she allow herself to consider the conversation that she had just had, and who it had been with.

She had watched and admired John Sheppard from a distance for some time. It was not something that she had ever had hope would get anywhere; just idle fantasies here and there. But they had all ended with the same decision; he would be bad for her. She didn't do relationships anymore---at least, nothing more serious than a couple of dates---but she had a feeling that if she started getting really interested in the Colonel, she would want more; and in the long run, that would be bad for her, too. Better that she kept her distance and not let him draw her in.

But the man was so darn attractive!

Yes, it had been an outright lie that she wasn't interested in him; and their conversation had only made him that much more appealing to her, which she had had great difficulty hiding. She thought that she had managed pretty well, but she was going to have to be careful; and the fact that he was at least going to try to pursue a friendship with her, if not that kind of relationship, was not going to help matters.

"Get a grip, Amber," she muttered to herself, shaking her head as if to clear the thoughts of him out. "You know his reputation; he's not into you, he's into your body. He's just a guy, leave well enough alone…" she groaned into her pillow. She knew better than to let guys do this to her anymore; she'd do well to remember the reasons that she was single. But yet, it had been flattering that he'd taken interest in her, forget the why.

She decided not to make any snap judgments, yet. After all, he probably wasn't looking for a meaningful relationship; but neither was she. If they both agreed that they didn't want anything more to come out of dating or whatever, what could be the harm?

Before she said anything to him, she decided to get to know him a little better, in the best way that she could think of; through his friends.

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The first person that she cornered was Rodney McKay. The scientist was easy enough to find; wherever he was, you could hear his voice for a full minute before you got to him. When she found him, he was badgering two young-looking techs about how they were dismantling something.

"…No, no, no! You can't just start taking things apart before you have even the slightest idea how they work! Yes, I know that you think that you can do anything, but I'm afraid that it's just not possible… Yes, I know that it's just a few screws and wires, but you can't just start ripping panels off and expect that you can fix the problem that easily---oh, just give it to me; I'll take care of it!" He snatched the device and turned around, and Amber grinned when she saw the object that he had been so protective of.

"Having trouble with your coffee-maker?" she asked, trying and failing to hide her smile. Rodney looked up at her voice, startled.

"And what would you care about that? I can fix my own coffee maker, you know!"

"Yes, I'm sure you can," she stepped over and took the broken unit from his hands. "But I'm sure you're much too busy to be spending your time tinkering on a coffee machine. I'm very adamant about my morning coffee; I think that I can fix this for you."

"You don't even know what's wrong with it!"

"I'll know that as soon as I crack it opened," she said. "You just get back to work, I'll be done soon; maybe half an hour at the most." Rodney folded his arms, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.

"I think that I'll just hang out for a few minutes and see what you can do," he said. "It's about time I took a break, anyways."

"Whatever you want; it's your lab."

"Yes," he said, his voice carrying a trace of smugness, "it is."

Amber quickly found a table and some space, and put the rather heavy thing down before pulling a screwdriver out of her pocket and getting to work on the bit that the techs had apparently been trying to remove. Rodney watched closely, still not seeming convinced.

"So who are you, anyways?" he asked. Amber heard the unspoken question in his tone; "And are you even remotely qualified to be handling the device that processes my one constant source of caffeine on this city?"

"Dr. Amber Wiclif," she introduced herself.

"And what exactly do you do?"

"I do a lot of things," she said vaguely, finally prying the panel off and getting a good look at the coffee-maker's innards. "For one, I fix coffee-makers." She paused, and grinned, knowing the perfect way to get him to start talking. "And what do you do? Other than save the city and your team from certain doom on a daily basis, of course?"

"Oh, you've noticed?!" he asked, getting excited. Amber hid a grin; she knew a couple of scientists who worked with him, and one thing she had heard from them was that you only had to fluff Rodney's ego a bit to get him happy and babbling. She'd give him a couple of minutes, then get him onto the right topic.

"…and has anyone ever mentioned to you how heroic I was with the Genii, and especially with Kolya; like when he stabbed me in the arm with a knife?" He certainly looked proud of himself for enduring; he even went so far as to show her the scar that the blade had left.

"Was anyone else hurt during that whole ordeal?" she asked casually, re-wiring a few things inside the coffee-maker and wondering why the scientists didn't just requisition a new one.

"Oh, Carson got knocked out by Sora, and Teyla got a little bruised up fighting with her; but she won, and they were all good. No, it was me who sustained the greatest injuries; and I was at risk of pneumonia the whole time, too." Amber didn't know who Sora was, nor did she believe that the scientist's claims were completely accurate---he was also known for exaggerating things about himself, and downplaying things about others--- but she was quite aware that he hadn't mentioned the one person that she was truly curious about.

"What about Colonel Sheppard?" she asked. "Was he hurt, too?"

"Him?" Rodney scoffed. "No, that flyboy never really gets hurt," he paused. "I mean, he got a little freaked out when he thought that Elizabeth died; but seriously, he does the most reckless things and comes out with not one hair out of place! At least, not more out of place than usual," he amended.

"So do he and Dr. Weir have a thing, then?" she asked, still trying to be casual and careless but getting impatient.

"John and Elizabeth? Some people think so, but aside from the fact that it's not really allowed, since he works for her, I think he's a little bit too… wild for her."

"Wild?"

"Did you ever see Star Trek? I mean, the real ones with Captain Kirk?" Amber nodded. "Think of that as what John is, except with dark messy hair and more normal speech cadences."

"Hm…" She tried to sound noncommittal, focusing solely on the wires and screws before her. McKay looked at her oddly.

"I'm surprised that he hasn't tried the act on you, yet," he said eventually. For the self-centered attention seeker that he was, McKay was also quite observant when he wanted to be; a fact that she realized it would be wise to keep in mind later.

"Actually, he did," she admitted, smirking a little. "I don't fall for Kirk."

"Really?" the scientist was suddenly very interested in her now. "You refused him?" She nodded, and a fiendish grin of delight dominated Rodney's features. "Haha! I can't wait to ask him about this one! You didn't fall for his Kirk-ish charm, thank you! I always appreciate a chance to remind him that he's not a god!" He was still grinning and laughing and talking to himself when Amber finished with the coffee-maker and screwed the panel back in place. She handed it back to him.

"Here. It should work fine for now; at least until you have time to requisition a new one."

"What?!" his excitement forgotten, McKay clutched the thing to his chest as if it were a baby that she had just threatened to kidnap. "No! Kitka is the best coffee-maker that we've ever had; and we've been through a lot with her! No way we'd ever scrap her for a new one." Amber was surprised by his attachment to the old thing, and wasn't sure if she wanted to know the reasons behind it. She decided to tactfully retreat and find one of his other team mates; his lab was starting to feel like the crazy bin.

"Well, I'm sorry to offend you and… Kitka," she said skeptically, before slipping quickly out of the door with a wave. She walked quickly down the hall, shaking her head and debating whether to laugh or be scared. Rodney McKay was not your average, run-of-the-mill scientist. Unfortunately, he had given her very little information other than what she already kind of knew; that John Sheppard liked the ladies. She was going to have to find a new source.

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Amber's intended next target was Ronon; but the task of approaching him proved to be difficult, both because of how intimidating he was and how hard the man was to find. She ended up in the mess hall, where she found not Ronon, but Teyla.

This could be interesting. She knew that it was not only Elizabeth that John was rumored to have a relationship with. She wondered how true this one was, and why McKay hadn't said anything about it. Either way, she figured that Teyla would be more helpful than the high-strung scientist.

She went up to the nearly-deserted snack table and grabbed a plate with a generous piece of chocolate cake, and made her way over to Teyla's table. The Athosian woman looked up as Amber drew near.

"Hi," she said, smiling brightly and gesturing to the seat across from Teyla. "Mind if I sit down?" Teyla's lips curved into a relaxed smile.

"Of course no; go ahead." Amber slid gratefully into the seat, and gave a sigh of relief.

"I just had a nice little chat with Dr. McKay," she explained. "I figured I could use a bit of a boost and a breather after that exciting new adventure." Teyla held back a laugh.

"That is not uncommon," she admitted, wrapping her hands around the mug that sat on the table before her.

"Does he ever breath between sentences?"

"Occasionally." They both laughed.

"I bet that it's the exact opposite with Ronon," Amber said conversationally. Teyla shrugged.

"For some people," she said. "Perhaps it is easier for me because we are both so different here."

"You're not that different," Amber insisted. "But really? He just seems like the strong, silent type; he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who you'd go all deep and touchy-feely with."

"It is rare," Teyla agreed. "He is slow to speak. But if he decides that he wishes to… there are few people who I enjoy speaking to more." Amber sensed a particular fondness for the big man in Teyla's voice. She figured that she could rule out a secret relationship between Teyla and John.

"What's it like to talk to John then?" she asked. "You've got McKay, who never stops talking, Ronon, who hardly ever does but is worth convincing, and then John…?"

"He likes to talk as well," Teyla said. "He likes to laugh. But it is hard for him to do anything else. He does not like to show himself to others." She frowned thoughtfully. "But he spoke to you this morning; you would have seen this." She looked at Amber with thoughtful brown eyes, and she remembered that the Athosian would be even more intent and observant than McKay. Which meant that she probably understood exactly what she was doing, darn it!

"A little bit," Amber shrugged. "And I'm curious if I got the right impression of him."

"Would your questions not be more effective with John himself?" Teyla inquired.

"But that would look like I'm pursuing him, and I'm not. I'm just curious."

"If you wish to know him, then you should speak to him," Teyla advised. "There is only so much that you can learn from others; his true soul you must discover for yourself."

"Teyla…" Amber sighed. She didn't really know her, and she wasn't sure how much she actually wanted to share with her. "I don't do that. You said that he never goes deep; well neither do I. The deeper you go, the more you hurt; and I'm not interested in feeling that way ever again." Teyla frowned.

"But you do want a relationship with him," she stated. "You just do not wish it to be long or meaningful."

"It'll end either way. I'm not going to get close to someone who will leave me. From what I've heard, he doesn't go for that either; so if we do decide to start some kind of relationship, neither one of us will let it go on if things get too serious." The Athosian's frown deepened, and for a moment Amber was worried that she'd been wrong about there being nothing between her and John, and that she'd offended Teyla. But the woman wasn't acting like she was jealous.

"Then you should not attempt to have a relationship with him at all," Teyla said in a low voice. "John is a good man and a good friend, and he deserves better than that." She left the table and Amber watched her go, trying to take in what she had just said and finding herself unable to accept it. Maybe the Athosians had some weird commitment, bond-for-life thing, but she'd tried to go down that road once before, and it had all come crashing down. She couldn't deal with that again.

"It's not as if I need his team's permission to date him, anyways," she said to herself. And the more that she had learned today, the more she had realized that her earlier fears were moot. He was attractive, and he was very much like her; they could give each other what they wanted and move on, no problem. Getting close was no issue.

"We'll see how he acts next time I see him," Amber decided, unwilling to make an absolute decision at that moment for several reasons, not the least of which being that for whatever reason, she would rather have had his team's approval.

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The next morning, she awakened earlier than usual, and after showering and dressing went down to the mess hall and snagged herself a mug of coffee before heading out to one of the more secluded balconies and stretched out in her morning routine of Tai Chi.

She spent a good hour in the exercises, feeling the tension and soreness drain from her muscles as she stretched out into the graceful poses. It felt good to relax after her interesting experiences the day before and even more interesting night's sleep as her dreams had been plagued with scenes of the day, of arguments with her ex-fiancé, and different ways that a relationship with John could turn out (not all of them unpleasant).

Eventually she finished her routine, and decided to head back to the mess hall for one more cup of coffee before she got to work.

"Well that was impressive," she jerked around to find Colonel Sheppard leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of admiration and amusement and interest. "It seems that you're an artist in more ways than one." Amber was glad that she couldn't see her own face; she was certain that she was blushing red enough to pass as a stoplight.

"Thanks," she said, pushing back a strand of hair that had come free of her ponytail. "Do you like Tai Chi?"

"Nah, I was never flexible enough for that kind of thing. I'm lucky that I can even move well enough to spar with Teyla and Ronon, not that I win… but they cheat," he added quickly. Amber thought of the tall, silent man and the earnest Athosian that she had talked to yesterday, and doubted that that was the case.

"I'm sure," she said dryly. "But seriously, you have to be able to stretch."

"Stretching and balance are two entirely different things," he stated; and Amber couldn't help but laugh.

"Fair enough," she said, as they left the balcony and headed towards the mess hall. "One day I'll teach you to do both."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but "one day" translates into "we'll be seeing a lot more of each other", right?"

"You have an astonishing grasp of the English language," she told him sarcastically. "And to save you the trouble, that means "yes"." He grinned broadly.

"Good. And does that mean that you'll have dinner with me tonight?"

"Depends on the restaurant. Last I heard, the "Pegasus Ritz" is a wraith only eatery."

"Well, I think it's Chinese night in the "Mess Hall Café" tonight…" Amber's mouth began to water; she loved Chinese food.

"Alright, you've convinced me," she said. "I'll meet you here around… seven?"

"Perfect." They reached the entrance to the mess hall, and someone called John's name. He looked at her apologetically.

"I've gotta go; but I'll talk to you later?"

"I hope so; or this will be a boring date."

"Haha, not if you're lucky," he said, before parting ways with her. Amber smiled and shook her head, and stepped into the line for food, even though she wasn't that hungry. She had just agreed to a date with John Sheppard!

She hoped that it would go well, and hoped even more that his team wouldn't kill her when she broke up with him.

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Amber stared at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on one wall in her quarters. She hadn't been sure exactly what one wore for their first date with a quirky and charming military officer, but from John's personality, she figured that she shouldn't wear anything too formal. She could always nip back to her room and change if she needed to… She had settled on a soft black shirt with loose, flowing sleeves and a rather high neckline to try to disguise what she thought of as her "disgustingly huge chest", and black pants. She would have preferred to wear something with a bit more color, but it was so hard for her to find things that didn't clash terribly with her red hair (not that she didn't love her hair, it just made clothes shopping a tad inconvenient). She'd decided to braid her hair back instead of throwing it up in its normal ponytail, and was now just finishing that off. After that, there seemed nothing more to do. She studied herself once more to be sure that she was ready, and took a deep breath.

"No matter how awesome he is, don't get in too deep," she reminded herself, before leaving her quarters and heading for the mess hall.

John met her at the door, dressed in very nice jeans and a button-down shirt, and she smiled. His appeal to her shot up about six points at seeing him cleaned up.

"Hey," he greeted her. "Glad you could make it."

"Did you think that I wouldn't?" she teased playfully.

"Well, seeing as how you decided to ruin my pride yesterday morning, I wasn't sure that you wouldn't ditch at the last minute."

"Me?" she pretended to be shocked. "Never. It was worth it just to see your funny face above those really nice clothes." He grinned crookedly at the veiled compliment.

"Thanks, I think," he said. "You don't look awful, either."

"Thank you, Colonel. As always, your grasp of English is impeccable."

"Yup," he responded cheerfully to the joking barb. "I even dug out the old dictionary to come up with that one." He led her through the mess hall, stopping to fill two trays before heading out onto the balcony. It was a warm night, and many people were taking advantage of it, but there were several tables on the far end that were still unoccupied. They claimed one of those.

"So what changed your mind about me?" John asked as they took their plates and left the trays on another empty table. "Like I said, yesterday you wanted to get rid of me."

"I don't really do relationships much," she confessed, before launching into her practiced lie. "I'm usually too busy to be bothered. But I realize what an awful blow that I must have given your ego, and I figured I owed you to fix it." She paused. "And I like Chinese food."

"Ah, so that's it. Should have known that you didn't come just for my company."

"Well, you get points for optimism, at least."

"I thought that I got points for being funny."

"That too," she amended.

They talked easily over dinner, trading jokes and barbs and stories. Amber ended up talking about her passion for languages, which led to a lengthy guessing game as John tried to figure the fifteen languages other than English that she promised him she spoke. Eventually he got all but one of them right (the last one was Klingon; when he laughed at her, she said that she'd been bored and then called him a "two-faced lying suckfish whose belly scrapes the rocks" in Klingon. No more was said to tease her.), and he made her speak to him in each one, just to be sure.

Of John himself, she learned little more than she had already known; but he did keep her well entertained with stories of his team and their adventures. And he told her the story of "Kitka" the coffee-maker.

"Apparently in the old, Adam West Batman movies, the Catwoman's alter-ego was "Miss Kitka". Batman is McKay's favorite superhero ever, and when someone declared the thing as "feisty and temperamental as a cat", he christened it "Kitka", in homage to his hero's seductive female enemy."

"But why won't he get rid of it?" she asked. "It's old and patched together; I wouldn't be surprised if it blew up in their faces one day."

"Me either," he admitted. "But none of the scientists can bear to part with her. She's the only coffee-maker that has survived our entire stay here on Atlantis; all the other ones have broken or just been replaced. And everyone in the labs insists that Kitka is the most loyal, faithful piece of equipment that we brought with us. A few of them even think it'll be bad luck if we get rid of her." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's an effective threat, telling them I'll chuck Kitka, but I can't do it. Coffee does taste better when she makes it." Amber laughed at him.

"You have a bias towards a coffee-maker?" she asked incredulously.

"It's just like some people liking Starbucks, while other people like Dunkin Donuts," he insisted. "Except on Atlantis, we don't have coffee shops. We have coffee-makers, and Kitka."

"Whatever you say," she laughed, shaking her head and looking down at her almost-empty plate. She couldn't get over how easy and nice this was, just sitting here and talking to him. And she was amazed by his respect. From what Rodney had said, and her own ideas about him anyways, she had pictured him very different. She had expected him to offer to go back to his room or something of that sort; but he hadn't. She wasn't sure whether to feel hurt because he hadn't, or feel special because he was being such a gentleman.

"This is different than I expected," she said suddenly, surprising herself and clearly him. "You're different than I'd expected." He smiled at her and leaned forward on his elbows, looking her straight in the eyes (another thing that she noticed most men had trouble with; and she wondered why he didn't).

"How so?" he asked.

"The impression that I had of you was just… different. I've heard a lot of things, from a lot of people; but most of those involved the words "Captain Kirk" somewhere in there; and you haven't been that at all."

"Is that what you want?" he asked curiously.

"Well yeah, kind of. I always did like Kirk, and I kind of figured that we'd have a few of those moments and then be done with it and move on." John seemed to think very hard about that. Finally, he shook his head.

"Nope."

"What?"

"No Kirk moments here yet."

"Why not?" Amber asked suspiciously. "Do you not actually like me at all? Or was Teyla telling you what an awful person I am?"

"No, I do like you. And in fact, it was McKay who was attempting to badmouth you, because of what you said about "scrapping Kitka". Teyla likes you." That was weird. Maybe she thought that she'd gotten through to her.

"But if you do like me, then why aren't you "putting the moves on me"?"

"What was this invitation to dinner?"

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know what you meant; and I'm still not gonna do it."

"Why not?!" she demanded, exasperated. John shrugged.

"Because that's all that you want. I figure if you keep wanting it, you'll stick around longer." Amber's eyes widened; he was so irritating! …and he was right. She knew exactly what she wanted out of this relationship; and as long as he withheld it, she would stick around to get it. That was just how she was.

It was a little disturbing to her that he had known her for a total of two days, and he had already realized this.

"Alright," she said, realizing that he was waiting for an answer. "Fine. But don't expect me to make it easy for you, either."

"Oh, I don't," he assured her. "That's one of the reasons that I like you."

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John continued to puzzle Amber, and she continued to spend time with him, hoping to convince him to give in so that they could both get on with their lives. But he seemed content to wait, driving her crazy as his plan to get her to stay around worked quite effectively. She hated that; and more than anything else she hated knowing what he was doing, and willingly falling for it. But she figured that at the moment, it was going to do her very little harm; his irksome game was amusing in its own way, and she could always back out if she got bored with it, which wasn't happening.

John was persistent in trying to get her to commit to stay around; often he sent her presents, little things that he had bought off-world, or handfuls of bright flowers that he knew she would love. And of course, he indulged her passions for chocolate and coffee and Chinese food; and it wasn't long before he discovered another weakness in that area; Italian food.

"You're going to make me fat," she warned him one day after they had had lunch together. "Do you really want a fat girlfriend?"

"I'll take my chances," he assured her playfully.

It turned out that she needn't have worried about becoming fat; after finding her in the gym one day, she and the Colonel had found yet another way to spend time together, and work off all of the food that they ate together. They started sparring.

Amber had taken up kick-boxing around the same time as Tai Chi, and she had spent a lot of time practicing both. And while the fighting styles that Teyla and Ronon taught John were very different than anything that Amber knew, it made sparring interesting; and John's amused teachers informed him that it was good for him to learn to fight people with different styles.

Eventually, Amber began to grow comfortable with the arrangement. She wasn't quite sure when that had started; maybe two months after they had first met. But while she wasn't ready to either give him up or promise him what he wanted, she was becoming content with their current relationships. She wasn't going to let him in all the way---she doubted that she'd ever let anyone really know her again---but she was prepared to give something, however small it may have been.

One night, after a particularly long, grueling day, John entered his quarters to find an envelope on his bed. In the dusky half-light of the moon shining through his window, he read the note scrawled on the front of it.

John,

Don't think that I'm agreeing to go into a really serious relationship with this, 'cuz I'm not. If I get bored with this, I'm out; but for now I still have to teach you balance, so you're safe.

I don't know if this really counts as a gift, but you wanted to see it; and I figured that you deserve something for everything that you've done for me (you deserve retribution for what you're doing to me, too; but that can wait for another day. But anyways, I hope this is worth it.

Learn English!

Dr. Amber Wiclif

It wasn't the tender, heartfelt confession that he was waiting for; but it was progress, and more than he'd honestly expected from her. He opened the envelope, and carefully drew out the item inside, tilting it so that the moonlight illuminated every detail.

It was her drawing of his team in the cafeteria.

They were all smiling and laughing and happy; just how he always hoped that they looked, and how he knew they deserved. For him, it was a family portrait, and it was more special to him than probably anything else Amber could have done (barring the obvious). He doubted that she realized how much it meant to him.

Glowing with an unfamiliar but wholly pleasant feeling, John laid the drawing carefully on his nightstand, and without even bothering to take off his boots, fell asleep.

Fin.

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A/N: So there you go. Wendy, I hope you like it; I hope that I did Amber justice. I tried to fit as much of her as I could into this fic (and you'll notice that I leave it opened at the end just in case ;)). I think that I made John a little bit OOC, and I'm sorry; but I have plans for these two, definitely ;). That is, if you want me to. Don't know when there will be more, but there will be if you want it. Hugs! :D

~jewel