fic: Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Five [PG-13]

[tielan]

TITLE: Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Five
AUTHOR: Tielan
SUMMARY: He stared out over the field, apparently nonchalant. "If you wanted whitebread, Weir, you shouldn't have said yes."
CATEGORY: crackfic, shermer_high AU
RATING: PG-13
NOTES:

Part Four

Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Five

By Monday it was publically known that John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir weren't on speaking terms with each other. The number of girls taking an overt interest in John skyrocketed, and he could be found basking in the admiration.

Elizabeth kept her head high, ignored the tentative interest of a few guys who'd been too intimidated by John to make any moves while he was looking over her shoulder, and spent time with her other friends. Fortunately, her friends were either oblivious to her fight with John - such as Rodney and Radek - or too considerate to mention it - such Teyla, Kate, and Carson.

Fighting with John was nothing new.

Fighting with John for more than a few days was.

Previously, their fights ended pretty quickly, usually because Elizabeth gave in and made up with him after a couple of days. She hated fighting with her friends.

This time, pure stubbornness held her to her course. She wasn't going to give in. He'd been the idiot, getting all worked up about Ronon and Kolya, and then not even asking her to go to the dance with him, let alone asking her out. If he wanted to get possessive, then he could ask for the privilege!

Besides, Ronon Dex turned out to be good company. Not exactly talkative, but then, neither was Rodney when he was involved in one of his projects. And Ronon actually listened, which was more than could be said of Rodney most days.

"You like him," Teyla observed one lunchtime when Elizabeth turned up to see the fight club meet. It was better than sitting in the cafeteria listening to a handful of 'lipstick and squee' sophomores cooing over John and the other football players he was sitting with.

"What?" Elizabeth's attention was startled away from where Ronon and another guy were circling each other under the watchful eye of the gym teacher. "No!"

Teyla just looked at her, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks going red.

"He is good looking," the other girl said, a smile hovering about her lips.

Nettled, Elizabeth snapped, "Then why don't you date him yourself?"

"Because I am not interested in him," Teyla returned serenely.

"You think he's good looking."

"I think many boys at the school are good looking," replied the other girl. "And yet I am not interested in all of them."

There were moments when Elizabeth experienced the very un-junior-like desire to pull Teyla's hair, if only to see what the other girl would do. How could she be so serene about everything? It wasn't natural, let alone normal!

"So who are you interested in?"

She'd tossed off the question without thinking the other girl would actually answer. But Teyla went a dusky pink colour. Glee filled Elizabeth's heart. She edged over to the other girl, nudging Teyla with avid interest. "So there is someone! Spill."

"No." The other girl's lips pressed together.

"Oh, come on - you know about Ronon." The words left her lips before her brain had a chance to censor them, and it was Teyla's turn to look mischievous.

"So you are interested in Ronon?"

Damn! "No," Elizabeth said. "I'm not! But you're interested in someone. Tell me who!"

Teyla huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "You'll laugh."

"It's not John is it?" Teyla's look disabused her of that idea. "Not John? One of the football team?"

Okay, so she was shooting blind. A lot of guys admired Teyla, but she tended to intimidate them. Then again, Elizabeth reflected, Teyla tended to intimidate most people. But a guy that Teyla was interested in? Pure gold.

"It's my turn on the mat," the other girl said suddenly, getting up.

Elizabeth was put out at having no name to pore over. "I'll get it out of you later," she threatened.

Teyla turned around mid-step, stuck out her tongue, then tripped as she caught her heel on the matting and fell over backwards.

As comebacks went, it wasn't the most successful one ever.

She ran over, hauling the other girl up, but laughing anyway. Teyla looked offended, but after a moment, a slow smile crept across her face. Still, she stuck out her tongue again and flounced off to the mat, to fight against a smirking guy who looked at least half-again her weight.

Elizabeth grinned as she watched Teyla and the boy prepare for the fight, then looked for Ronon.

Ronon was still talking to the guy she'd been fighting against, and Elizabeth watched him.

He moved, showing the other boy how to position himself, how to use the muscles of his body. There was no self-consciousness as he repositioned the other guy's limbs, any more than there'd been when he moved her about, trying to show her how to distract an attacker.

Okay, so she was interested in Ronon Dex, and not just because he'd happened to be there while she was fighting with John. When it came to tall, dark, and handsome, he had it down. He might not be honour roll but he wasn't stupid, he refused to join any of the sports teams in spite of his pretty good physical shape, and the fact that he was a little wild didn't hurt his general reputation among the student body.

Not that Elizabeth was after a guy for his reputation.

She liked spending time with him. Oh, he exasperated her from time to time, but she didn't think it was his personality the way it was with Rodney and John, it was just that she didn't know how to read him, how to react to him.

He was friendly, but not pushy, holding himself apart rather than invading her personal space the way John and Rodney frequently did.

And was she going to spend the rest of her life comparing every guy she knew to those two?

"You do not usually attend this club, Elizabeth Weir."

Elizabeth jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of the gym teacher - the man could move like a cat for all his size. "No, sir."

Upon arrival at the school, students were advised not to laugh at the gym teacher's name. After meeting Mr. T, very few did.

Mr. T was best described as a dormant volcano. He was nice and pleasant and quiet and gave you the feeling that he really was listening to you; but you didn't want to ever get him mad, because when he blew, things would get very bad.

He was also slightly formal in his mannerisms. His nod of the head had all the gravity of a potentate granting an audience. "Then to what do we owe this visit?"

Somehow she doubted the answer, I came to escape listening to John Sheppard's fan club, would be acceptable.

"I just came to watch. Is that okay?"

"There is nothing wrong with that." They watched as Teyla neatly used her lower centre-of-gravity to tip her opponent over. "Have you ever considered learning some moves of self-defence?"

"Oh, I already have," she said, never looking away from the mat. In the periphery of her vision, she could see Ronon making his way over to them.

The attack caught her by surprise, a broad, strong arm around her throat. She leaned back against her attacker, jabbed her elbow into his stomach with as much force as she could muster and slipped out of the grasp, turning with a gasp to face Mr. T.

Although his hand was pressed to his stomach, the smile on the gym teacher's face was satisfied. "So I see." He took a deep breath to steady himself, then straightened from his hunch as Ronon as he came up alongside them. "Well taught, Ronon Dex." With a nod of the head that was something like a bow, Mr. T smiled and made his way along the edge of the mat, calling instruction to Teyla and Teyla's opponent.

The smug look on Ronon's face made Elizabeth want to elbow him in the gut. How did Mr. T know that Ronon had taught her anyway?

Ronon seemed pleased by the praise anyway - although he was behaving like she was a pet that had just done a very cool trick. "You've been practising."

"I didn't want to be caught out again," she said as he flung himself down to the wooden benches and rubbed a towel across his face and shoulders.

"You should have seen his expression."

"I'm pleased to have provided amusement."

He shrugged. "Although Teyla falling on her ass was pretty funny, too."

Elizabeth felt a bit bad about that. Teyla was usually rather graceful, and to fall over while making faces... It was funny, it just probably wasn't all that pleasant. "Well, I hope it didn't embarrass her too much."

"Not as much as the first time she got laid out in a fight." Ronon smirked.

That was new. Last Elizabeth heard, Teyla was more or less undefeated unless she was feeling sick - or her opponent was on steroids. That event had made the city news last year - a student from another school who'd used steroids to beat Teyla in an inter-school competition.

Then again, there was something slightly triumphant about Ronon's expression. She hazarded a guess.

"You?"

"Yeah," he said, still grinning. "She made the mistake of getting distracted. But she's pretty good, all things considered."

From Ronon that was probably the highest of compliments. Still, Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. All things considered? "Such as her being a girl?"

Ronon snorted. "No. That's got nothing to do with it. Teyla's more than capable of defending herself."

"So am I!"

He glanced at her, but he was smiling. "So I saw."

She prodded him in the ribs and watched him squirm away. "Don't be so smug about it!"

"Why not? I taught you."

"I surprised Mr. T," she reminded him.

Ronon's broad shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug, although his lips kept the smile. "Details."

Turning up her nose at him, Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the fight taking place on the mat. Teyla was definitely keeping the guy at bay, her movements fluid and graceful even in the speed and pace of the fight.

There was no question who was going to win.

As Teyla finished off her opponent, Ronon shifted, almost restlessly. She glanced at him, and noted that his expression was pensive. "You okay?"

He glanced at her, then leaned back, elbows on the wood. "Yeah." There was a moment's silence, then a deep breath. "Are you going to the Founder's Dance?"

Elizabeth was surprised. Really surprised. Of all the guys she would have imagined might ask her... Well, Ronon had been way off the list.

"I...hadn't thought about it," she lied.

"Would you think about it?"

"Are you asking me to go with you?" She looked at him, meeting his eyes and noting the way he stubbornly held her gaze.

"Yes." No copouts for Ronon Dex. He might have been uncertain about asking her, but he stuck to his guns. And Elizabeth admired him for it.

"Okay," she said. It didn't take a lot of thought.

"Okay?" He seemed almost surprised by that answer.

"Didn't I just say that?"

There was a moment's hesitation, then he smiled and looked away. "Cool."

Nothing more was said about it. Teyla came up to them, collecting her towel and water bottle, and firing off retorts at Ronon as he teased her. Elizabeth listened a little bit, but she had glow inside her for the rest of the day - and the start of an idea.

She mused over it in History, only half-listening to Dr. Jackson's lesson, and decided that she could. After all, she didn't really want to be seen going all by herself. And while he didn't seem that enthused about the players, he'd never said he didn't like the game.

So it was last period English Lit. when she paused over their books of poems, tilted her head at him and asked, "Ronon, what do you know about football?"

--

She was having second thoughts when she saw the looks she was getting from her classmates as she and Ronon climbed into the bleachers.

Elizabeth ignored them. She also ignored the speculative looks of the sophomores who whispered and giggled behind their hands, Ben Maroney's hurt look, and the guys with him who eyed Ronon with something like amusement. She caught Mark Lorne's quirked eyebrow as she and Ronon took their seats, and quirked one back. He wasn't a big football fan - what was he doing here?

They probably made quite a sight with Elizabeth all rugged up in school colours, and Ronon casually dressed in a long, camel-coloured jacket and leg-hugging black jeans: the fervently supportive and the completely unsupportive.

And then there was the fact that most of the people here knew that she'd been coming to the games to support John and Teyla - as well as the school team generally - and had considered her and John practically an 'item'.

Elizabeth Weir was going to show them.

"You've honestly never been to a football game before?"

"Not at Shermer," he told her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Why not?"

Ronon sat down beside her with a smirk. "Didn't have anyone to go with."

Elizabeth noticed that he sat close enough that their thighs rested side by side, and stifled the urge to lean against him. He was a furnace of body heat in the rapidly-chilling night. And it was nice to be out with a guy who was actually interested in her instead of just going along with her because she happened to be an old friend.

She never realised just how tired she was of being John's default.

Ronon was cool - even if he hadn't quite been her first choice of partner to the Founder's Dance. And in the two days since he'd asked her, he'd been just the same as ever. No possessiveness, no posturing, no fuss, no bother - just a guy friend, like Rodney or Carson. Except cute and attractive and a little bit more forward in teasing her.

Elizabeth was finding it a nice change.

They had a bit of time before the game actually began, and she'd bought a cup of cocoa to sip while Ronon had a coke and a hotdog. Tonight, the concession stand was selling slices of pizza, and enough people had bought them that the smell wafted through the crowd, tantalising Elizabeth's tastebuds.

"God, that smells nice," she said.

Ronon sniffed, shrugged and unwrapped his hotdog with a smile and an arch of his brow. "Want some?"

She was a bit hungry. Dinner had been early because of the game, and she was still feeling a bit peckish.

But when she leaned over to take the bite Ronon offered, he drew the hotdog away, smirking. Mindful of her cocoa, Elizabeth smacked him on the thigh and grabbed his wrist. This time, he held still, although the gleam in his eyes indicated that he wasn't finished yet.

Too much mustard and onions for her taste, but she didn't much care - he wasn't going to be kissing her tonight, so she wasn't going to worry about any bad breath.

"Good?" There was a knowing smirk in his eyes.

The mustard was bringing tears to her eyes. "God, it's a bit spicy!"

"You can cry on my shoulder if you need to."

His smirk was distracting. And very cute.

She slapped his thigh again and took a sip of her cocoa, hoping that the smooth flavours of the milk would soothe the tanginess stinging her tongue. "Not likely!"

"Liz?"

Later, Elizabeth told herself that if it hadn't been for the sheer incredulity of his voice, she might have forgiven him. Her eyes narrowed. "John."

He looked like he'd come straight from the locker rooms, because he had most of the padding on beneath his letterman's jacket, but what Coach Caldwell thought of his star quarterback coming out before the game, she couldn't imagine. Still, she kept her voice calm as she looked out over the field as though she didn't care that he'd come out to see her. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for tonight's game?"

"I'll be doing that in a moment. In the meantime, do you mind if I have a word?" She was familiar with the slightly clipped, forceful tones of his voice - John in a 'mood'.

She glanced at Ronon. He shrugged, looking neutral. "Game's not going to start for a few."

Handing him her cocoa, she gave him a brief smile. "I'll be back in a minute." And just to spite John, she used Ronon's knee as a prop to help her rise, then followed John off to one side of the bleachers where they stood out of the way of the main traffic, gaining more than a few interested looks from passing parties. "What is it?"

"What is it?" John seemed astonished that she had to ask. "You came to a game with Ronon Dex!"

"And?" Elizabeth demanded. "I'm going to the dance with him."

Something tensed in John's face. "You don't know anything about him!"

"Oh, and you know much more about Chaya Sar?" It was a line tossed out in the dark based on rumours she'd heard around the school.

It didn't bring her the catch she'd hoped for. His face darkened like a storm. "I know she doesn't have a rap sheet!"

Elizabeth caught her breath. "And you know that Ronon does?"

It was nothing more than a moment's hesitation, but it was enough. "Come on, Liz," said John in disbelief. "Look at the guy! He's got 'trouble' written all over him!"

Which meant that John was just being a bastard. Fury ignited in the pit of her stomach. Fine. He could be like this. She wasn't going to play. "I haven't seen any writing anywhere that I've looked," she said, choosing to misterpret his words in the most literal sense.

"Well, if you're not careful, you might find it written elsewhere!" John retorted.

In spite of the fact that their conversation had been barely above a hiss in the flow of general chatter in the bleachers, they were getting more than enough looks from the people in the chairs nearby.

Elizabeth was relieved to see that Ronon hadn't turned around - she didn't want him to see this. For one, it wasn't something you particularly wanted aired in public, and for two, whatever people thought of him, Elizabeth found him pleasant company. Maybe she didn't know him that well, but what he'd shown her so far was pretty interesting.

"Look," she told him, out of patience. "Who I go with to the Founder's Dance is none of your business! We're friends. You have no claims on me. None. Not. One."

He opened his mouth to make a retort to which Elizabeth wasn't going to listen. Right now, she was so mad at him - for this scene, for his accusations against Ronon, for his behaviour - she frankly didn't care if he was desperately in love with her and jealous of Ronon.

She was through with this thing between them - whatever it was.

And the football game hadn't even begun.

There was a firm footstep behind him.

"Elizabeth, John."

He glared at Elizabeth and turned around. "Teyla."

Teyla stood there in her gear with her letterman's jacket on her shoulders, a football in her hand, her slim form incongruous against the larger forms of the people moving behind her. Once again, it struck Elizabeth just how difficult Teyla's position on the team must be - up against stronger, heavier, faster kids. Yet her friend held herself with a watchful dignity that warned people not to get in her way. And, right now, her exasperation with John Sheppard was plain enough.

"Coach Caldwell told me to come fetch you," she said with all the precise dignity of which she was capable. "I am not to return without your sorry ass, or else he will have your head and balls on a platter."

John glared. "I'm talking to Liz."

"So I see," Teyla said. "And if you are talking about what I suspect, then I believe that it is none of your business, and you should leave Elizabeth with her company for the evening."

"It's none of your damned business either!"

"No," she agreed with composure. "But it is my damned business to get you back to the locker rooms before the Coach substitutes Bates in as quarterback."

That got him. Steven Bates was a good solid quarterback, but he didn't have John's leadership abilities among the team. Shermer played well when Bates led the offence, but they played brilliantly when John was quarterback - which was why Caldwell had positioned him as quarterback - and captain - for the last two years.

John wasn't about to risk that for anything.

Still, he turned back to Elizabeth. "We haven't finished this conversation," he said.

"I think we have," she said coolly. "Good luck in the game, John, Teyla." And she moved past John without a further word.

There was a moment when she thought he'd try to catch her arm and haul her around. It passed, thankfully. They'd made enough gossip for the night; she didn't really want to get accused of putting an elbow in the belly of the star quarterback twenty minutes before the beginning of a game.

She caught Teyla's eye as she passed and mouthed, 'Thank you.' Teyla nodded briefly before her head tilted demandingly at John.

Elizabeth was two steps down when she heard the smack of something hitting flesh and turned.

Teyla was just catching the ball which she appeared to have bounced off John's shoulder - at any rate, he was rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"For being an idiot," she replied tersely. "Be grateful it wasn't your head." And with that she turned and started down the stairs out of the stadium.

John glared after her. "You should be grateful I'm leaving you on the team after that!"

Teyla gave something like a huff of disdain or amusement. "The only thing bruised is your ego, John. You wear padding."

"I'm surprised you didn't bounce it off my head." They were out of view, and their voices were fading beneath the tread of the people coming up into the stands.

"I considered it," Elizabeth could just hear Teyla's words. "However, I concluded that you are in need of every brain cell you have in that thick skull of yours."

Elizabeth didn't bother to hide a smile as she went back over to Ronon.

"It's all sorted out," she said, omitting to explain exactly what had needed sorting out.

He arched a brow at her. "You okay?"

It was better than an inquisition. Elizabeth nodded. "Sure." And this time, when she sat down, she leaned against him, just a little. It was cold, after all.

He glanced down at her, apparently surprised, but handed over her cocoa. "Yours."

"Thanks," she took a sip and let the sweet, smooth flavour calm her a little. She was still angry at John - as much for making a scene as for his accusations. So Ronon wasn't the usual kind of student at Shermer. He was still a very cool guy.

Ronon offered her the hotdog again. "Want another bite?"

And gentlemanly into the bargain.

Although, maybe not so much. When Elizabeth held out her hand for the hotdog, Ronon promptly retracted it. "No hands."

"You'll just move it away."

The teasing smile he gave her left a tingly feeling in her chest. "Maybe."

In the end, they found a compromise with Elizabeth putting her fingers on his wrist so he didn't move the hotdog away. Her fingers rested for a few seconds on hot flesh beneath which she could feel the steady beat of the pulse in his right arm. And when she leaned back and chewed, she caught his gaze and grinned back at him.

It had been a while since a guy had flirted with her like this. And it was a nice feeling to be flirted with.

Down on the field, the band was all set up with their instruments, and the cacophony of their tuning up was a background hum amidst the noise of the people crowding into the bleachers. It would be a little while longer before the game began, and the crowd was filling up nicely.

"Why didn't you join the football team when you first came here?"

"I've only been here three weeks."

"You still could have joined."

He shrugged and took another bite, then chewed his way through before speaking. "Not much of a team player."

"No kidding," she muttered. "Track?"

"That team player thing again." He stared out over the field, apparently nonchalant. "If you wanted whitebread, Weir, you shouldn't have said yes."

Fine. She leaned towards him, laying a hand halfway up his thigh. Her shoulder pressed against his arm as she tilted her head archly. "Maybe I didn't want whitebread, Dex."

He coughed once, nearly choking on his hotdog and she felt the muscles beneath her hand tense while the muscles in his throat worked. Elizabeth grinned to herself as she drew back, even as her cheeks flushed.

A quick glance at Ronon showed a pinkish cast to his cheeks, but all he said was, "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep." Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort that she did keep her promises, and that what she'd said to him hadn't been a promise by any stretch of the imagination, but he spoke before she could get the words out - almost as if he wanted to change the topic. "Do you sing?"

"Sing?"

"National Anthem."

"Not very well."

There was the smirk again. "So I'll have to block my ears?"

Her elbow landed in his side and he shied away. "What about you? Do you sing?"

He grinned at her. "You'll find out."

Elizabeth whacked him on the knee, and got a shoulder-jostle in return. She nudged him back, and it turned into a poke-and-tickle contest that was only stopped by the emergence of the cheerleaders onto the field.

And it turned out that Ronon had a good singing voice.

But as they sat back and began to watch the game - and the way the star quarterback ignored the slim figure of his most accurate receiver - Elizabeth reminded herself to thank Teyla on Monday.

- TBC -

Part Six

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Hee! This fic is sooo much fun! Love Teyla in this especially, especially her beating up Shep toward the end. And she's interested in someone? Hope we find out who it is! You write Weir/Ronon better than anyone -- even when they're in high school! :)

[snoggingpicard.livejournal.com]

Um, yeah...that was me above. Never logged in because my brain is in limbo. Hee. Anyway -- love this fic!

[mizz-magenta.livejournal.com]

weeeeee!!! I'm loving this crackfic XD

and omg i'm totally shipping RononLizzie. They so sweet

<3

[elaran.livejournal.com]

so good. :D

[aaricia.livejournal.com]

Man, John's being such a dick :) *is patiently awaiting the next chapter*

[duskyfox.livejournal.com]

I want to leave a thoughtful review, but this chapter just fills me with romantic squee!-ishness.

I love your Ronon. I want one. Someday a wacky scientist will invent the machine that makes fictional characters real, and I am so claiming your Ronon when that day comes. You have me loving this ship and this story.

Who sparks Teyla's interest? I know who I want it to be (okay, I have a couple of people I'd like to see her after), but I can't wait until you tell us what you're thinking here.

[diluvian.livejournal.com]

"Yes." No copouts for Ronon Dex.
::thrilled::

"I am not to return without your sorry ass, or else he will have your head and balls on a platter."
::snork:: Heeee!

He coughed once, nearly choking on his hotdog
Yay, finally Elizabeth caught him off guard!

A few more American-type-beta thingys:

mightn't - uh, this just doesn't happen. Might not.
honour - again with dropping the u