Note: Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews. Chapter 2 is here.

Elizabeth stayed very still, mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of his rib cage as he slept. There were still traces of bruising, but the worst was gone, just the ghosting of yellowish-green reminders of his injured ribs. He'd told her that he didn't typically sleep well – but that since she'd been sharing his bed, she'd banished some of his bad dreams. The sun was still creeping up outside, and it felt nice to just have a moment of peace – and having that moment to watch John when he wasn't watching her was pretty nice. It said a lot about the level of trust he held her in at that moment. Although it was all so new, it was worlds away from where they'd been two weeks ago. Elizabeth shivered despite the heat radiating off of John's body, as she tried to banish the feeling of anxiety she'd had then. Instead of blissfully watching him sleep in the safety of Atlantis, they'd been lost and alone, trying to get back to John's team and the Stargate.

Together, they had hiked for what felt like miles, and her ankle became steadily worse. John had taken point, but his constant head turns to check on her made Elizabeth wonder how he could keep watch in front. Every time she caught his profile, she became more convinced that he was struggling as much as she was. Although one hand stayed on the P90, she saw that his other was wrapped around his chest, his ribs clearly quite painful. His face looked pinched and tight – and if she guessed right, he had a pretty bad headache from the head wound. Still, he pushed them both on – along the bottom of the ridgeline, looking for any way to go up.

As the hours stretched on, the sky started to darken, and John started to stumble here and there, shaking his head each time. Elizabeth grit her teeth – she had twice badgered him to stop for a rest, but he'd stubbornly refused. It was something that as the leader of the expedition, she both admired him for and wanted to strangle him for. John Sheppard could best be described as relentless. She was sure there were kinder, more flattering words, and certainly significantly more brutal words she could have chosen. But relentless was what stuck in her mind. It dawned on her that his own well-being was of second priority to him – he was clearly concerned with getting her out of danger and back to Atlantis. And there was only one reason he would stop – it wouldn't be for his own health – but hers. She wanted to roll her eyes, or even start in on a diatribe about his misogyny, but knew better. This had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman – he'd never once given her reason to believe that he had issue with her sex. It had everything to do with duty.

That meant that she would have to ask to stop. Or he might keep going until he dropped.

"John," she'd said softly, but initially got no response. "Colonel Sheppard!" she tried again, this time louder, and his pace slowed. He craned his head back to look at her and saw that she'd stopped. Elizabeth caught the worried frown and concern for her that flashed across his face. In a few tired strides, he was at her side.

"What is it?"

"John, we need to stop and rest," she said, gesturing to his arm wrapped around his chest.

"We need to keep going," he argued back. "It will be dark soon – we're running out of time."

Elizabeth sighed. It was clear that her concerns for his injuries definitely wasn't going to win her this battle. "I'm sorry Colonel, but I don't think I can…my ankle…."she said, tipping her head down a little so he wouldn't look directly in her eyes. She'd always felt like he could see right through her when he did that. From the slightly inclined angle, she could see his face morph with worry and silently congratulated herself.

"What's wrong?" he asked, dropping down into a crouch with a grunt of pain, hands reaching for her injured ankle. Elizabeth bit back a curse at his disregard for his own injury. "Did you twist it further?" he said, voice raspy with the effort to breathe. She wanted to shout that no, she hadn't, she was faking it to make him stop for his own well-being, but knew she couldn't.

"I think so," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, but I need a little rest."

"Of course, I'm sorry I was pushing so hard – I just wanted to get you out of here…" he said, trailing off with the effort of straightening his body back up. He closed his eyes tightly, face pale and he wavered for a moment, and Elizabeth thought he might pass out – but with a grim clenching of the jaw, he re-opened his eyes, dark with fatigue and pain. "…we just need shelter," he continued.

Then he did something that was only moderately unexpected – he slipped in next to her and pulled her arm over his shoulder so that he could support her on the side of her injury. She wanted to scream – knew it was her own fault that he thought she was hurt worse than she was – knew that his ribs probably couldn't or shouldn't take the strain, but if she confessed, then he'd just continue on anyway. It felt like physical pain in her chest when she felt the slight tremor of his body when he got them moving again, and she noticed how hard he was trying to hide his labored breathing.

Elizabeth could only take a few minutes of this torture, guilt flooding her system. She was about to simply tell him she was feeling better when she felt him changing direction and in the fading light, she saw what he'd seen – some caves. John had settled her on a moderately large boulder and switched the light of his P90 on.

"You're going in there?" she'd asked incredulously.

He turned to grin at her, his usual flippant smirk plastered on his face. "We need shelter."

"But…"

"But this is how every horror movie starts?" John finished for her, the moment of levity making Elizabeth feel a lot better about things.

Elizabeth found herself smiling back at him. "…just be careful."

"Aren't I always?" he chirped and moved towards the mouth of the cave.

"I wouldn't describe your methods as careful," she said with a role of her eyes, wished she could see his face in response, but he'd already disappeared inside.

Alone, she realized that he'd used humor, as always, to deflect her worry. It was his best tactic – if he wasn't playing something down with humor, he was self-deprecating himself, or what she hated most, he would be stubbornly argumentative. But it always started with trying to make a joke of things. She found it irritating and maddening, and yet also oddly endearing. Elizabeth's rational mind told her that the fact that she now considered some of John's more irritating quirks endearing was a sure sign she was losing it. Or losing something at least.

She was starting to get anxious when he re-appeared finally. "It's dry inside and I don't see any sign of any other…occupants," he said with a lopsided smile that was meant to ease any worry she might have. Instead, it set off an odd feeling of warmth in her chest. Elizabeth nodded, getting up, and shivering. When they'd been moving, she hadn't noticed that the temperature had dropped, but now she realized it was cold.

"Come on," John said, making his way to her to assist her into the cave. "It's not warm in there, but I have an emergency blanket in my vest," he told her, having noted her discomfort. It didn't surprise her that he was already thinking ahead.

Once in the cave, he guided her back quite a way until there was no draft from the entrance. The floor was sandy and soft, which was a relief when they finally sat down. The light from the P90 cut through the darkness, but it was still eerie in the cave and Elizabeth shivered again, not just from the cold. John sucked in a sharp breath when he finally lowered himself down and against the wall of the cave, shining the light so she could also sit. Elizabeth was glad her face was shadowed, or he certainly would have seen her face crease in worry – he looked pale, and even though it could have been the fluorescent glow of the flashlight, she didn't think so. He turned his head away slightly, clearly trying to hide his pain as he tried without success to get comfortable, his arm tight around his chest.

"John…"

"I'm alright," he told her, but as he spoke, his breath hitched, rather ruining his attempt at bravado, and if she hadn't been so concerned, she might have laughed at the indignant look that crossed his face when his body betrayed his words.

"Let me help take your vest off," she said gently, instead of pressing him. She knew from experience that if she argued with him about whether or not he was fine, it wouldn't do either of them any good except to make them both frustrated. Elizabeth wasn't sure if she should be worried when he nodded at her – normally he didn't want any help.

She scooted a little closer to him, and reached up to unbuckle the vest while he held the light steady so she could see, his one hand already working on the bottom most buckle. It suddenly felt very intimate as she realized just how close she was to him, her face close to his and she chanced a look at him. He had his tongue between his teeth, a look of concentration on his face as he used just one hand to do what normally would be done with two. It was incredibly attractive. Again, Elizabeth wondered if she was the one that had hit her head. She pulled back when she'd finished her task and he eased forward to get out of the vest, hissing softly when he put pressure on his ribs. Elizabeth's stomach twisted in sympathy, but soon enough the vest was off. He'd unclipped the P90 first and wedged it between his knees so he could use both hands to go through the various pockets on the vest.

John produced a canteen that had been hooked to the vest and handed it to Elizabeth. She gratefully took a drink of water as he peered at two power bars he'd also retrieved. Seeming satisfied, he handed one to her. She saw it was lemon, and was surprised that he remembered she'd said the only power bars she'd found even remotely good tasting had been the lemon – that had been on their first off-world trip together. Elizabeth said nothing, but smiled gratefully at him, and he responded with a warm smile of his own.

The Colonel went studiously back to his search, and found a pouch which held the thin, but incredibly useful emergency blanket. He carefully unpacked it, then looked over at her, clearing his throat, looking suddenly embarrassed.

Elizabeth found herself smirking, surprised to realize she knew exactly what was going through is mind.

"Colonel, I've taken survival training before – it was pretty much a requirement for coming to another galaxy. I'm well aware that the best way to stay warm is to share body heat – and we only have one emergency blanket…" she said, trailing off as she watched his face turn from embarrassment to amusement.

"You seem a little eager to cuddle with me, Dr. Weir," he said, taking her cue at using the title. Still, the fact that John Sheppard had just used the word cuddle almost undid her.

To cover her surprise, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but was grateful that the cave was dark or he might have seen the blush creeping up her neck. He may have been joking, but as he mentioned it, she suddenly realized she was really wondering what it would feel like to be so very close to him.

"I don't know, Colonel, you're the one finding this secluded spot and offering me dinner by flashlight," she said with a smirk.

John grinned at her, unwilling to let her win the verbal battle. "If you're going to go to bed with me after our first date, you'd better start calling me John and leave my rank behind."

"John Sheppard!" she half scolded, thinking she should have been more scandalized than she actually was. This was a fine line they were stepping over. She knew he was a flirt – in fact, she thought most of the time he had no idea just how flirtatious he was. She also knew they had a very professional relationship that they had built on Atlantis – and a very powerful friendship. Being in command was really quite lonely – but she wasn't entirely on her own there – while she was in charge of the expedition as a whole, John was the military commander and they had to make decisions together in order for the expedition to succeed. There had been bumps along the way, but in general, they made a very good pair, and they'd begun to seek each other out to discuss decisions and strategy on just about everything.

He had become her confidant – and she thought, her friend. On the nights he wasn't with his team, watching movies and educating Ronon and Teyla on Earth's idiosyncrasies, he had often turned up at her quarters or on a balcony he knew she favored to sit and talk with her and sometimes just sit and read – though she wasn't sure he would ever finish War & Peace. It was something that she begun to really enjoy – and was probably where these traitorous feelings had begun. At some point, she'd looked over to him, sprawled out on the couch in her quarters, barefoot in his BDU pants with just his black t-shirt and realized just how attractive he was. She hadn't allowed herself to see it before – knew that every straight woman on Atlantis was certainly aware – but hadn't let it be relevant. She tried to quash the thought, but it just kept coming back – along with that damned kiss.

"I promise to be a complete gentleman," John said, interrupting her thoughts, his voice a little cautious as if he was suddenly worried he'd crossed a line.

"And I promise not to take advantage of your injured state," she teased back, but moved to be next to him, stiff at first as she helped him unfold the blanket. Realizing she'd have to be flush up against him to be sure they could both share the silvery foil, she closed the last few inches, flinching when he grunted in pain. "John…I'm so sorry!" she said quickly, and almost jerked away, but a firm hand on her leg and a shake of his head kept her from moving.

"It's fine Elizabeth," he said with an exhale.

"John…you're more hurt than you want to admit," she said softly, and made eye contact. His dark eyes examined hers in return. He looked like he was about to lie to her, but thought better of it.

"My ribs do hurt. But try not to worry, by now Ronon and Teyla will have gotten McKay back to the gate and he'll be howling at Lorne to find us. By lunch tomorrow, we'll be back in Atlantis," he said with full confidence, and she was cheered by the thought. The mention of lunch made her stomach growl, and she flushed, and focused on eating the power bar, noting that he ate his as well, but was making sure she'd finished hers.

Her fingers found his vest, and she searched through the pockets until she found pain killers. "Take these," she told him. He looked like he was going to argue, but she shook her head. "I'll take some for my ankle, and you take some for your ribs…and for your head," she told him firmly.

He smirked at her. "I didn't know you were so good at field visits," he joked, but took the asprin.

"Well, don't tell anyone. Carson will be miffed."

John chuckled, but that made him cough, which they both regretted instantly. His eyes pressed closed. Elizabeth peered at him worriedly.

"Your ankle didn't get worse, did it?" he said after a few minutes of silence, his eyes still closed. Elizabeth blanched.

"…no."

"Tricked me," he groused, but he didn't seem all that angry. "You shouldn't use my concern for you against me," he added softly, and Elizabeth felt her heart thump. John was not good with emotions – or talking in general – so this was something quite different.

"I'm allowed to care about you too," she said carefully, and then realizing her choice of words, blushed in the dark. "I mean about your health." He smirked, eyes still closed, so she hurried on. "I need you to get us both out of here tomorrow," she added, deciding to appeal to the core essence of who John Sheppard was – warrior and protector. "And to do that, you need rest," she said logically. It was odd – before her time in the Stargate Program, she'd been a negotiator. She'd brokered peace deals all over the world – managed oil rights and disarmaments, but she had yet to master negotiating with John.

"And I will," he promised her seriously, one eye opening to observe her. She felt suddenly exhausted – but oddly safe, with John there in between her and the cave entrance. She should have been more worried, especially considering his injuries, but she felt deeply inside that he would protect her. It was a little frightening – he had demonstrated over and over his willingness to trade his life for others. If it ever came to that, she knew the universe would be a lot worse off without him.

She felt him nudge her with his hand, then press something wrapped in foil into her palm. "I normally reserve my emergency stash for Rodney, but you look like you could use it," he joked, and she realized he'd given her a bar of chocolate that a lot of the teams carried in their vests.

Elizabeth smiled in the dark, touched by how much he cared about Rodney – how he knew so well how to take care of the brilliant, socially awkward scientist. Very few military men would have taken to Rodney McKay the way John had – turning him into a valuable member of Atlantis' premier offworld team. She had known Rodney for a while and could have never imagined the changes she'd seen in the man since he'd become part of John's team – and ultimately, part of the little family he'd created.

"Thanks," she said.

After the chocolate was gone, she felt exhausted.

"Sleep," John said softly. "I'll keep watch."

"I would argue…but if you have a concussion, you probably shouldn't sleep," she'd said, trying to use his same levity, but it felt flat in her own ears – she really hoped he wasn't concussed. Still, her heart lifted a little when she saw him smirk.

"I didn't know your doctorate was in medicine," he drawled.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but was surprised when he switched off the P90 light and used an arm to pull her close – arguably for warmth – but it felt so intimate and safe. Careful not to jostle him, she let herself lean into him, her head resting on his collar bone. It felt a little wrong to be tucked up so tightly with her military commander and to not feel like she was stepping over any boundaries, but oddly, she had no concern that things would be uncomfortable in the morning. She was thinking about just how warm his body was when she finally drifted off to sleep, certain that John would keep her safe.