Elizabeth Weir loves the time she gets to spend in the Washington, DC area.
It’s not just the fact that it was where she spent the vast majority of her time before she left the country/continent/planet/solar system/universe.
It’s not just the fact that it’s where a great deal of the people that she keeps in touch with from Earth are based.
It has a lot more to do with the fact that the person who has known her, understood her, the best is on the outskirts of the city.
Despite whatever she and Simon had, Elizabeth knows deep down that no one gets her the way that Emily Prentiss does.
Strolling across the Mall, Elizabeth smiles at how much the Washington Monument reminds her of the spires on Atlantis. It's funny how her perspective on some things has changed. But as she meets Emily at the picnic bench, full of nerves and hands clenching her pea coat, and convinces Emily to take her hand as they continue their stroll through the public area her perspective doesn't seem so different after all.
And Atlantis isn't that far away, really.
Emily Prentiss comes back from a particularly difficult case. Kicks her shoes off as she makes her way down the hall, runs a hand through her hair and heads straight for the wine rack. It's on days like today that she likes to indulge in some of her more guilty pleasures.
When the glass is ready, the stereo playing some nice jazz in the background, she grabs a copy of Timequake off of her bookshelf and moves out onto the small patio.
She likes to have the stars above her. Likes to be out in the open on a night like tonight. Taking a long pull off of the glass, Emily leans back in her Adirondack chair and stares at the sky.
She often wonders if Elizabeth is doing the same thing. If somehow they're looking at the same cluster in the night sky and staring at each other's respective galaxies.
Elizabeth tried to show her where to look one night, but Emily was far too interested in much more terrestrial matters then. Like the fact that Elizabeth was there, beside her, in her arms, lying on the patio after having indulged in far too much wine.
Sometimes she wishes she'd paid more attention to the details that night.
Staring at the sky and trying to figure it all out, thinking back on what had gone on that night, Emily thinks she did a fine job with the details that mattered. And it brings a smile to her face.
The news had been sporadic.
The Pegasus Galaxy wasn't exactly the most communicable under the best circumstances. The fact that Earth had been attacked, that quite possibly, Washington and several other major cities across the globe had been destroyed only complicated things.
Prometheus bringing survivors to Atlantis both excited and unnerved everyone involved.
News that Heru'ur – a Goa'uld whom everyone had long thought dead – had been behind the attack only stepped up the anticipation level.
Elizabeth's nerves were strung tight by the time Prometheus arrived, with news that they were only the first of the rescue vessels.
Standing on a catwalk, overlooking the refugees as they had their worlds tilted on end once more, Elizabeth scanned the faces. While every life saved was a victory, Elizabeth couldn't help the small sinking feeling that went through her when she didn't see the face she was looking for.
Elizabeth looked away, her eyes searching the far-reaching expanses of Atlantis, willing Emily to appear amongst the survivors. When Spencer Reid appears, clinging to Rodney's elbow and asking question after question with all of the amazement and wonder imaginable, Elizabeth feels her mood lift.
Emily emerges, being assisted by John Sheppard, her ankle wrapped, a cut – still bleeding – bandaged on her head. She was dirty, sweaty, and obviously exhausted.
Elizabeth's fingers grip at the railing before her, holding her from running down the stairs and grabbing Emily into her arms.
She's never seen a more radiant sight in her entire life – in any universe.
Emily Prentiss rolls over in bed and props herself up on an elbow. Through the slivers of moonlight seeping in between the slats of the blinds, she watches as Elizabeth's chest rises and falls with each breath.
The planes of Elizabeth's face are smooth and calm. It's a complete contrast to her normally pressured, constantly busy face. The face that shows how she's constantly working out scenarios, constantly equating the next negotiation, and constantly getting their collective ass out of yet another jam.
The face that everyone else gets to see.
Right now, she's not holding anything back, she's completely exposed.
The thing that Emily enjoys the most, though, is the fact that Elizabeth isn't even aware of it. She's completely oblivious to how exposed she truly is. Emily relishes in the fact that – even if only on a subconscious level – Elizabeth is comfortable enough with her for this to happen.
Emily knows it's only temporary, that soon enough the sun will rise and the slivers of light will brighten to the point where the room is engulfed and Elizabeth will awaken. Her senses will return, her walls will go up, and this moment will be lost.
The one remaining solace is that Elizabeth is 'in town' for a week and this is just the first of seven nights they will get to spend together.
It's not that Elizabeth Weir is a good liar, because, honestly, Emily has seen a ton of people do it better. She can detect them too, it's what she's trained for.
It's not that Garcia can't crack the computer to find out the information she wants, there is no doubt in Emily's mind that Penelope could run circles around the DOD guys that called to inquire about her infiltration of their system.
And it's certainly not that the cover story Elizabeth is using is airtight. Emily knew the first time she heard it that it was really nothing more than a pile of bull.
Emily hasn't pinpointed exactly what it is that Elizabeth does, or where she goes when she vanishes for months at a time. Still, there's something about the woman. Emily can't be sure if it's the inner strength – because it doesn't take a genius like Reid to see that they're both damaged – or the sheer compassion that the woman holds for just about any living creature, that draws her to her.
But she kept coming back for more.
Elizabeth Weir strolled through Golden Gate Park. Things had been interesting since Atlantis landed on Earth. But living in a city that was invisible to the rest of the world, definitely had its downsides.
The park was busy today, but not with the normal bustle of people coming and going with work, taking a break for lunch, or out for a picnic with the kids. The dog walkers were avoiding the area today.
The rumors that the Zodiak Killer had returned to the city were putting everyone on edge. The place was crawling with police and FBI.
Taking a slow sip from her coffee cup, Elizabeth watched as the FBI examined the taped off area of the park. Someone was going around the city killing people, but Elizabeth was fairly certain that someone as focused as the Zodiak killer had been in the 1960's and 70's wouldn't take a break that long and then suddenly come back. There were either a lot of other deaths out there – which she didn't think – or this was a serious copycat.
Elizabeth noticed the woman walking in her direction, noticed how she was asking questions of a lot of the people in the park. There was something about the woman that struck Elizabeth as being familiar, almost like they'd met at some point.
Shrugging, Elizabeth finished her coffee and tossed the cup into the wastebasket. Afterall; she'd been around her fair share of Federal circles, it was quite possible that she had met the woman at some point in the past.
Running into her again, now, during a criminal investigation, when her cover story was still shaky at best, would not be the best idea. Instead, she stuck her hands in her pockets and briskly walked back in the general direction of the city.
At times, being able to vanish into the cloak of a city that was invisible to the rest of the world had its advantages.