AN: Totally unconnected piece. Working on another story and this scene popped in my head and would not go away. Definitely doesn't work in the other story so i give it to you as is. You can decide what type of relationship J/E are in (platonic, intimate or somewhere in between) or what season it would be. I could make it work in virtually any scenario or timeframe. Enjoy.

~~ SGA ~~ SGA ~~ SGA

"It's late," Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard remarked, seeing the obvious fatigue showing in the face of the woman sitting across from him. "We can finish this tomorrow," he assured her rising from the chair. "I just wanted to let you know the situation."

"I appreciate it, John," Doctor Elizabeth Weir sighed, a small forced smile on her face. "I can't say I'm totally surprised though. We knew it was only a matter of time before someone would get involved with one of the locals and there be a request to live on the mainland," she added, following him to the doorway of her quarters.

Nodding, John turned back and found Elizabeth rubbing one shoulder. "Something wrong?" he asked, nodding to her movements.

Smiling tightly, she dropped her hand and waived it off. "Just tight."

"Turn around," he urged. Seeing her questioning look, he repeated it. "Turn around, please," he added playfully. When she complied, he reached up and began to rub and softly knead on her shoulder.

After a few seconds, a moan left Elizabeth's lips. "God that feels good. What I wouldn't give for a massage."

Chuckling at her breathy words, John moved one had to the base of her skull. "You don't know it but you are looking at one of the best masseuses in the Pegasus galaxy." Making up his mind, he stopped his rubbing and dropped his hand to her lower back. "Come on," he urged her back into the room. "Lay down."

"John," Elizabeth balked, resisting his push.

"Oh come on," he countered, rolling his eyes at her unspoken arguments why she could not do what he asked. "The world won't end if you admit for once you're human like the rest of us," he teased, urging her forward. "You can even leave your clothes on." The glare thrown at him brought a bark of laughter from his lips.

His mirth brought an involuntary smile to her face. Fighting it, she glared at him. "No funny stuff mister," she warned, "or you'll have another birthday before I'll clear you for another mission."

"Yeah, yeah," he countered, unconvinced by the empty threat. Turning the lights lower, he shook his head in amusement. "Now lay down," he chuckled, watching as she settled herself on the bed.

Standing beside Elizabeth's bed, John lightly ran his hands over her shoulders and back. Laying his hand in the center of it he instructed her to take a deep breath and exhale. Repeating the instruction, he felt her back muscles slightly release. Moving his hands up, he began to rub on her shoulders and neck. "You've been spending too much time on the computer," he observed softly, feeling the tension in her shoulders and neck. He knew she would balk and argue with him if he said what he really thought: she had been working too much.

"Probably," she conceded, relishing the fingers kneading, stroking and rubbing her sore muscles. "Reports have been killing me lately,' she added with a sigh.

"What reports?" John asked walking fingers down one side of her back muscles and up the other.

"Usual,' she breathed, relaxing into the feel of the John's hands, "Biology, agronomy, physics, historical, astr..." A yawn interrupted her litany. "Sorry," she muttered, fighting off another yawn. "Astrophysics, engineering, sociological psychological," she added finally trailing off.

"Light reading. Glad you're not doing anything too heavy," he said dryly, transitioning his attention to her legs and starting to tighten and release his hands down her calf. Pulling off her shoe, he used his knuckles to walk up the bottom of her foot in circular a motion. "Can't you get the cliff note versions or something to ease the load?"

"Most are," she moaned feeling the tension leaving her body as he switched feet. "Besides, if they weren't, I'd never get through the evaluations, requisitions, missions reports, inventory, operations, logistical, scheduling or threat assessments," she added with another heavy sigh.

Shaking his head, John decided he needed to talk to some people about taking the load off of Elizabeth. Finishing with her other leg, he moved around the bed to her arm. Taking it, he rubbed circular patterns down it with his thumbs, before gliding his fingers down each of hers. "Gotta be a better way then you killing yourself over them," he breathed softly.

'Hmmm," she murmured in agreement. "Come up with it, I'll go for it," she slurred out a few minutes later, her words heavy with sleep.

Lowering her arm back onto the bed, John moved quietly to grab a blanket on a nearby chair. Easing it over her placid form, he knelt by the bed and watched her unguarded features for a few minutes before reaching over and adjusting the cover over her shoulders. He couldn't help but wonder again how he had been fortunate enough to have Elizabeth Weir in his life. Looking back at her face, he saw heavy eyes barely opened and peering at him.

Amazed at the raw emotion in John's face, Elizabeth moved her hand slowly and touched it. Her fingers lightly skimmed his cheek and lips before her arm slid back to the bed. "Thank you," she sighed, her voice barely audible.

"Sleep Elizabeth," John said softly, his expression tender. Waiting until her eyes closed and a contented sigh escaped her, he stood, shut off the remaining lights, and silently slipped into the hallway.

The End

July/August 2014