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� and woke up.
She hadn�t meant to fall asleep after talking to John. It was, after all, mid-morning, nearing late morning, even, and she rarely slept past five thirty even after her latest of late nights. But she had packed everything she brought to DC with her, as well as everything she had purchased since arriving in DC�she had no idea what she would do with her new gown, or the four new suits she had indulged in when she realized that rotating through the same meagre selection for god-knows-how-long in strings of meetings that wouldn�t end was not the best way to make a good impression on people who spent more on a single outfit than most people did on car payments�and she had finished her book two nights before and she�d already read two different papers, both reporting variations on the same stories that, really, had little to no effect on her life that she would be getting back to shortly, so she had lay down on the bed and closed her eyes against the beam of sunlight that hit her face and, without her consent, she had fallen into a deep slumber.
And she had dreamed.
Dreaming wasn�t something that Elizabeth did often, and if she did she didn�t remember any mental plays that went on while she slept. Sure, she had had more erotic mental wake-ups in the past year than she had during the first thirty years of her life, but, Elizabeth rationalized, it was inevitable when working so closely with a man like John Sheppard, the star of her fantasies and the man who had worked his way so far under her skin that he was officially a part of her. Working closely with John didn�t help her keep her dreams, if she were ever to dream, in the realm of PG. And it certainly didn�t help that, as late as she usually worked, he was always on duty a little later than she was (which, to be honest, Elizabeth was suspicious of, since the rest of his team, with the exception of Rodney, was known to retire fairly early, compared to other teams) and he always, without fail, radioed her to report what had happened in the control room since she had left, or to share some minor discovery that she would be hearing about in the morning senior staff meeting, or simply just to check in and say goodnight and maybe double check what time their senior staff meeting would be the next day since it tended to be the meeting that floated throughout the day to accommodate other meetings that had more of a clock on them, and so John�s voice was almost always the last she heard before she went to sleep.
She realized she could rationalize most of the dream that way. She had been talking to John just before she fell asleep, and they had been talking about getting dinner together, away from everyone at work. The original plans had been put off by John, just like in the dream. The word �date� had been mentioned during their conversation, but Elizabeth decided that John meant it in the same way you make a lunch date with your mother or your best friend�which, really, was what Elizabeth was doing. Making a lunch date with her best friend. So what if he was an incredibly attractive man who she had sex dreams about. He was still her best friend.
There was nothing more to it, Elizabeth decided.
Except for the pulsating rock in the pit of her stomach that reminded Elizabeth that she wanted what she had seen in her dream, in all of her dreams. The sex, the heat, the love, the tenderness, and, yes, even the domesticity.
Which was why, because she was with Simon and she didn�t want to throw away the nearly five years they had been together before she left for Atlantis, Elizabeth decided that instead of staying at the SGC in the quarters she had been assigned like she had planned she would go back and live in her house, with Simon, assuming that he hadn�t moved on. Because if she could convince him to join her in Atlantis the craziness in her head about John would stop and her life could go back to normal. Or whatever the Pegasus Galaxy equivalent of normal was.
So, it was with a deep breath that Elizabeth found herself taking the final few steps up to the door.
�Goa�uld System Lords, Wraith invasions, psychotic Genii rogue faction leaders holding a screwy gun to my head� and this freaks me out,� she muttered, chastising herself for her cowardice. �Suck it up, Weir. It�s just Simon. The worst thing that can happen here is he�s moved on,� Elizabeth said firmly before raising her fist and resolutely knocking on the heavy wooden door.
Taking half a step back Elizabeth waiting for the door to open. Simon�s car was in the driveway and she could hear movement inside the house, so she knew that someone was home. The only question was who.