My hands are up - this it very much inspired by a wonderful short story called 'In a Tub' by the brilliant Amy Hempel.
Anyway, here it is. It's very short. And it's untitled, so if anyone has an idea for a title let me know.
Category: Elizabeth Weir. Weir/Sheppard.
Spoilers: None really, but it helps to have seen the opening scene of Before I Sleep.
Disclaimer: Not owned by me.
I take a sip of coffee and put the statue down next to the bowl.
When I'm tired I get restless.
I position the last item - a birthday gift - so that it is sitting in the last spot of sunlight that makes it through the stained-glass walls of Atlantis and the clear glass walls of my office. I push the gift along my desk, keeping it in the light, until the sun drops below the ocean.
When I was on Earth, after the days at work where I would be reminded once again that diplomacy is rarely about honesty, I’d sit on the deck at sunset and watch the birds.
Nature is true to itself. So what happened to us?
I’d watch those little birds swooping in and out of their rain-filled plant pot and feel the day drop away from me.
My birthday gift is shaped like that pot.
I put down my coffee and see John looking at me looking at the gift.
Does he think I keep it here because it was from him?
Well, if I were being as honest as the birds, I’d say that that was the truth, too.