A Good Solution, by Anr (pg)

[irony-rocks.livejournal.com]

Hi. I'm especially pleased to be doing the AU catagory this month as I modded the auficathon which was finished several months ago, and I've been patiently waiting in line for this catagory so I could rec some of the absolute gems that were written for it. There are nearly thirty fics written across a wide spectrum of au comms, so I invite you guys to check 'em out. ;)

Rec Category: AU
Pairing: John Sheppard/Elizabeth Weir,
Category: Sheppard/Weir, angst, au
Warning: None
Author on LJ: anr
Author's Website: AngstnRomance.net
Link: A Good Solution

Why This Must Be Read: You can read this as a one-shot, but this story is set in the spygate universe, where SGA/SG-1 is recast into the espionage world. I highly suggest you check that out if you haven't. The universe has mostly been action/adventure and just plain fun, but this fic written by Anr is deep, dark and very dramatic. anr has a way of writing that is unique and beautiful, and every single one of her sentences is moving. They're very layered and poetic.

Beyond that, though, her understated plot freakin' rocks.

John comes looking for Elizabeth long after their relationship has ended, and the emotions and darkness is palpable with every word. I love how she wrote their frayed relationship. The tension, the plot, the characterization, how they're stuck on opposing sides of a debate neither of them can win. Each little scene is great. I can't pick a favorite for the excerpt, but alas, I'll try.


"Bullshit, you're hiding." When she goes to fill his glass up again, he covers it with his palm. She doesn't seem to care and vodka trickles between his knuckles and down his fingers as she pours. His gaze flicks down to the puddle of liquid forming on table and back up again. "Stop it." She doesn't and he releases his glass to grab the bottle, forcing her to set it upright again. "Elizabeth --"

"John," she mimics.

He tightens his grip but doesn't try to take the bottle from her, doesn't make her let go. "I need you --"

"They have nine-hundred numbers for that. Internet chat rooms too, once upon a time." She laughs and it's bitter, harsh, not like what he remembers at all. He winces and lets go of the bottle.

"What happened --"

"Don't." Her hand trembles, just a little, as she picks up the bottle and refills their glasses. This time, he lets her. "That's old news, and certainly not worth rebroadcasting."

He disagrees. "That mission was a success." He watches her raise her glass and sip the vodka, her expression stony, and almost reconsiders what he's about to say. "We did the right thing."

He doesn't even try to avoid the glass she throws at him, just sits there and feels the push of air against his cheek as it passes over his shoulder and shatters on the wall behind him, vodka spraying the back of his neck. "The right thing?" she says incredulously, slamming both hands down onto the table top and unsettling the bottle of vodka. He watches it roll off the table and hit the ground with a crack.