Title: Where The Love Light Gleams
Author: Vicki James
Email: vicki_james98@...
Rating: G
Category: romance
Spoilers/Season: none
Content Warnings: none
Archive: let me know where it's going.
Summary: Santa's unlikely helpers work to John and Elizabeth's benefit.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is the property of Stargate Productions, MGM
and The Sci-Fi Channel. No infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I like Christmas; I like fluff. Here's a fic with all that
stuff. :) Thanks, as ever, to Shane for her proofreading skills.

* * * * * *

"Secret Santas! Secret Santas!"

Rodney was fairly launching himself into the air as he bounced on his toes
and waved a rustling bag at those assembled in the conference room.
Elizabeth arched a brow as she sent a speculative look in his direction. He
reminded her, seasonably she thought, of a deranged elf on speed. She cast a
bemused glance around the table at the others who had been required at that
morning's meeting.

John's eyes were wide and he managed to look both apprehensive and resigned
at the same time. Carson appeared intrigued. Teyla's face showed interest
mingled with a slight confusion. Ronon wore an expression of complete
bewilderment.

"Secret Santas?" The latter asked.

"Ah, yes. You're new. You missed Christmas in Atlantis last year." Rodney
had stopped bopping but was shaking the bag in front of Elizabeth. Familiar
with the tradition, she reached in and plucked out a folded piece of paper.

Rodney's glance moved to Teyla for a moment. "Do you remember Christmas? And
Santa?"

Eyes focused on the tabletop in concentration, Teyla gave a thoughtful nod.
"Christmas is a high holiday of Earth and Santa is the old man dressed in
red associated with the holiday."

"Yes, good, gold star for you." Rodney acknowledged Teyla's memory of the
occasion. "Now," he said, turning back to Ronon, "I'm sure someone else can
fill you in with more detail on oh little town of Bethlehem and twas the
night before, but in a nutshell, Christmas is an important holiday
celebrated by those of the Christian faith as well as in a secular, cultural
manner. At Christmas we exchange gifts and the fable we perpetuate for
children, although I didn't believe in it from, oh, age four or so, once I
realized that those reindeer couldn't possibly circumnavigate the globe
pulling an old, fat man in a sleigh that had to be so chock-full of presents
that--"

"Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted, sternly.

"What?"

"Secret Santas?"

"Oh, right." Rodney took a deep breath. "So, yes, anyway Santa is a figure
who children are told--"

John must have noticed Rodney taking the breath to wind up again. "Y'know
what?" he said. "Let me tell it." He turned his focus to Ronon. "Secret
Santas is an exchange of gifts in celebration of Christmas. You pick a name
out of Rodney's bag there and whoever's name you get is who you have to get
a present for."

"What if I do not want to get that person a present?" Ronon asked.

Elizabeth opened her paper to read the name she picked and smirked.

"See, that's not the point," Rodney countered. "You pick someone's name and
you play Santa to that person. But you keep the name you picked a secret
until you give them the gift. Secret Santas. Get it?"

Ronon scowled.

"Look," Rodney said, with a note of frustration in his tone. "It's supposed
to be fun. Part of Christmas is being merry. You can do merry, can't you?"

Ronon's expression remained the same.

"Okay then." Rodney moved his focus elsewhere. "Carson?" He held the bag out
to the doctor, who took his turn pulling out a name.

After moving around the table, Rodney ended up at Ronon, who after a
moment's stare down, put his hand into the bag and picked out a paper.

Rodney looked around at everyone. "I know it's customary to set a price
limit for these kinds of gift exchanges, but since it's not like we're going
to be running out to the local mall to pick something up, I say the sky's
the limit. Get me whatever you want." He grinned and began heading to the
door to leave.

"Uh, Rodney?" Elizabeth forestalled his departure. "Aren't we supposed to be
having a meeting?"

"Meeting?" Rodney looked puzzled.

"Yes. You called it." Elizabeth explained.

"Right. We just had it." At the general mutterings and grumbling that
followed this statement Rodney added, "What? Like you were all so busy doing
something else? Happy gift hunting!"

He ducked out of the room.

* * * * * *

Rodney was pleased to catch Teyla in the mess at lunchtime. He gathered up
his tray containing his second helping of seconds of the daily special and
relocated himself to the table at which Teyla was sipping a cup of tea.

"Teyla, just the person I wanted to see. I want to ask you something about
the Secret Santas."

"I understand the Secret Santas," Teyla advised. "I am to give a gift to the
person whose name I drew. Do not be concerned, I will not reveal whose name
it is I have until the party."

"I got Elizabeth," Rodney said.

Teyla's brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought we were not supposed to share
the name of the person we chose?"

"Well, no," Rodney acceded. "But I got Elizabeth and I don't know what women
want. I was thinking you could help me out."

"Ah." Teyla nodded slowly and then her gaze left Rodney to look at a point
beyond his shoulder. "What Dr. Weir wants..." she mused.

Rodney looked behind him to see that Elizabeth had come into the mess and
was standing talking to Sheppard, laughing at something he was saying to
her. Rodney turned back to Teyla.

"Yeah. I don't know what I should get for her and I thought since you're a
woman too, you might have an idea."

Teyla looked back at Rodney with a small smile. "I picked Colonel Sheppard."

"You're not supposed to tell me who you got." Rodney raised his hand in a
gesture of frustration.

Teyla's sigh mimicked the same emotion. "I thought perhaps we could work
together to give them what they both want."

"They want the same thing?"

Teyla gave him a rueful grin. "Yes, they do want the same thing. Though I am
not certain if either of them fully realizes it yet."

"Well, what? What is it?"

"Can you not tell?"

Rodney gave an exaggerated sigh of his own. "No, I can't tell what Elizabeth
wants. If I knew what she wanted, I wouldn't be here asking you for help,
would I?"

Suddenly, Teyla stood up. "If you do not understand then I must explain some
things to you. Come, we must speak where there are not others present to
overhear."

Rodney looked at his still half-full plate and frowned, but then rose to
follow Teyla out of the dining area.

* * * * * *

The door slid shut behind Elizabeth, cutting her off from the bright lights
and merriment of the Christmas party taking place inside, leaving her to the
warmth and moonlight of the balcony.

She was still smiling after laughing at Rodney's insistence that she go out
onto the balcony to find her present, and then being abandoned by him as he
practically shoved her out the door. This had better not be a practical
joke. Let's lock the boss out of the party, or that sort of thing.

Her smile disappeared and she came just short of letting out a scream, as a
shadow detached itself from the wall and moved toward her.

"Elizabeth?"

Fortunately she recognized the voice before she embarrassed herself. She
raised a hand to her heart and gave a nervous laugh.

"John! You scared me."

"Sorry," he said as he ambled up to her. Clad in black from head to foot, it
was little wonder she hadn't noticed him right away when she'd stepped
outside. She had noticed him inside from the moment he'd arrived at the
party. His dark dress shirt was augmented with small, silver coloured
buttons, the top few of which were undone, and even in the low light
Elizabeth could see how this revealed his--

Stop staring, Elizabeth! She chided herself. The man's going to notice you
ogling him.

But either he didn't detect her undue interest in his chest, or else the
light was too dim for him to tell where her gaze was straying. Elizabeth put
her eyes front as John continued speaking.

"Teyla sent me out here to get my present. I'm still not sure what I'm
waiting for."

"Really?" Elizabeth cocked her head to one side and her brow wrinkled in
bewilderment. "Rodney did the same to me. He said my present was here
outside."

"Maybe they're in cahoots together. Or Rodney's too lazy to come up with a
present on his own."

"Maybe we should look around?" Elizabeth suggested.

"I didn't see anything out here before, but I was kind of just standing
around."

"Let's look." Elizabeth began searching over by the wall and John took the
area by the railing.

Having moved a distance down the length of the balcony and turned a slight
corner from beyond the door, Elizabeth found a small table with a few items
on top of it. She called out to John who came over to join her.

"Looks like champagne," she said, picking up a bottle from where it sat
chilling in a pitcher of ice. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the
area where they now stood was open to the ocean, where the water reflected
the light of the moon hanging in the sky. Elizabeth was able to read the
label on the bottle.

"It's the real thing," she informed John. "Pretty good stuff, too."

"Are we supposed to share it?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked down at the table and then smiled up at him. "There are two
glasses."

"What the heck," he said. "It is Christmas." He reached out and took the
bottle from her and began removing the foil from the top.

Elizabeth grabbed one of the glasses and held it up in readiness. The cut
glass was heavy in her hand, and she marveled at the fact that someone in
the city had gone to the trouble of packing real crystal champagne flutes
all the way from Earth to Atlantis. As she waited for John to pop the cork,
she turned slightly to gaze out over the ocean. Moonlight appeared to dance
on the water as the movement of the waves made the light streaming from
above shimmer in the wake of the tide. Atlantis's various peaks, corners and
smooth surfaces glinted silver in the night, reminding Elizabeth fancifully
of a Christmas castle. With John, she was shut off from the party inside and
outside everything was quiet and at peace.

The popping of the champagne jarred the silence and Elizabeth turned back to
John and held her glass aloft. Once he'd filled her flute she picked up the
other one and he poured a measure of the drink for himself. She passed him
his glass as he put the bottle back on the table.

"Cheers." Elizabeth smiled as they clinked glasses. She raised the drink to
her lips and closed her eyes as the first drops touched her tongue, savoring
the sensation of the bubbly liquid.

As her eyelids fluttered back open, she found John staring at her with an
unusual, intense, unreadable expression on his face. Somewhat flustered by
his look, she turned back to the table. "What else is here?"

"A CD player," John said.

"Hmm..." Elizabeth reached out and pressed the play button. Half expecting
to hear a recorded Christmas message from their erstwhile Secret Santa
co-conspirators, or something worse from other Atlantis personnel, she was
pleasantly surprised by the opening strains of a simple Christmas carol.

Elizabeth took another sip of her champagne and closed her eyes again,
swaying slightly as the familiar baritone voice washed over her. He was one
of the great ones, one of those old crooners from Hollywood's golden age,
one who knew how to sing it right.

The weight of a hand resting just above her hip made Elizabeth's eyes fly
open in astonishment. John had moved closer to her and was peering down at
her.

"Should we dance?" he asked.

"Ah...sure," Elizabeth agreed, surprised at his touch and by the invitation.
Surprised, and intrigued.

John removed the drink from her grasp and replaced it with his hand in hers.
Instead of twining their fingers together, he folded his hand around hers
and then pulled their joined hands to his chest. His other hand slid along
her waist to the small of her back and brought her body nearer to his. He
led her around in small, slow steps to the music.

Elizabeth had danced her share so far in her lifetime. Her career had
brought her to ballrooms and soirees around the world. She'd danced with
dignitaries and even royalty, with men who had been instructed since
childhood in the proper way to lead a lady around a dance floor.

John Sheppard didn't dance like that. John Sheppard held her in a way that
melded her body against his and he moved with an easy grace that was all his
own. Elizabeth felt herself shiver, even though the little red sleeveless
dress she wore was perfectly appropriate for the humid night in Atlantis's
warm Christmas climate. She didn't want the song to ever end.

Fortunately, the carol was only on to its second repetition of the opening
lines. When it hit the third line, John pulled back from her slightly and
began looking around over their heads.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Looking for mistletoe."

"There isn't any."

"No," he agreed, in a rather resigned tone. "I just thought...maybe..."

"But it is Christmas," Elizabeth said softly.

John stopped dancing. He looked at her steadily, with his mouth curving up
in a devastating half smile. "Yeah?"

Elizabeth's own lips tilted gently. "Yeah."

His hand left hers to reach up and brush her cheek with his palm and then he
cradled the back of her head as his face moved down to meet hers. She closed
her eyes and felt his lips brush hers, softly, just once, but lingeringly.

Yet too soon the kiss was over and John pulled away. Elizabeth opened her
eyes to meet his gaze and for a moment they stood motionless, their eyes
locked.

"Merry Christmas, Elizabeth." John's voice was hushed.

"Merry Christmas," she replied.

They began moving once more to the music, but instead of taking her hand
again, John's fingers trailed down her back and he held her close with both
arms wrapped around her waist. Elizabeth draped one arm over his shoulder
and brushed her other hand to rest just below his hairline, her fingertips
making contact with the bare skin above the neck of his shirt. She let her
head fall to rest against his collarbone and felt a surprising contentment.
At this special time of year she was in the arms of a handsome man she
trusted, admired and respected. It was Christmas and they'd shared a kiss,
but it wasn't something she had to worry about. One Christmas kiss could be
chalked up to the moonlight and the sentimentality of the season. Their
relationship would be as it had always been come morning.

"Do you wish you were home for Christmas?" John asked, his voice quiet and
his breath tickling her ear. The song ended and another began. They didn't
stop dancing.

"No," Elizabeth replied without hesitation. "Especially not right now." She
felt John's hand slide up to the small of her back and press her in closer
to him. "What about you?" she whispered.

"I have everything I want right here," he said. "Everyone I want." His
fingers began to trace slowly up her spine. "Right here."

Elizabeth raised her head and pulled back to meet his gaze. In his eyes she
could see the emotion and desire that she hoped he could discern in hers.
His head again lowered toward her.

One kiss could be chalked up to Christmas and the moonlight. Another kiss
meant something more.

Elizabeth pulled him down to hurry his mouth to hers.

* * * * * *

THE END - but feedback is loved and cherished forever