Sunset ^beta

There’s a service bell hanging above the entrance—vintage brass, original fittings—but it doesn’t ring when Elizabeth opens the door because the clapper has fallen out. It lies, forgotten, in the middle of the faded velveteen cushion of an old, fabric footstool that someone pushed under the window. Out of sight and out of mind. 

Elizabeth kicks her boots on the mat, mindful of the Mojave dust she’s trailing in her treads, and closes the door quietly behind her. She couldn’t quite picture what a mom-and-pop slash second-hand slash electronic repair store would look like, but it isn’t nearly as chaotic as she expected. The left side is dedicated to groceries and the right to pre-owned household items in varying states of repair. Along the back is a counter covered in equipment and a lone, manual till. Walmart, this is not, but Halling told her when she first came here that she could get everything she needed from McKay’s Mini Mart, and if she’s honest she’s curious about the man in black and the grumpy pianist. 

“Hello?” she calls out, but there’s no reply. 

She knows she’s not alone because even though there’s no one on the shop floor, there’s the low murmur of conversation slipping through the beaded curtain at the back. She approaches with her charge safely wrapped up in the box in her hands. There’s a working bell on the counter, and when she dings it John ambles out, all smiles and Southern charm. 

“How ya doing,” he drawls, wiping his hands with a rag. 

“I’m fine thank you, Mr Sheppard.” 

“John is just fine.” 

“John. Of course. We, um, have a bit of a predicament, and Teyla thought you or Rodney might be able to help?” 

“Sure, what’s the problem?” 

“Well,” says Elizabeth, “it’s this.” She places the box on the counter and opens the lid. 

“Ah,” says John when he peers inside. He lifts out the toy fire truck and rotates it in his hands. 

“I think this part here...?” 

“Yeah, I see it.” John pulls a light down low and inspects the underside of the truck. He lifts a panel and tinkers for a moment, before placing it back in the box. “I don’t have a replacement part, but I’m pretty sure Rodney can make something suitable.” 

“Thanks,” says Elizabeth, relieved. “I’d appreciate it.” 

“Might be an hour, hour and a half?” 

“Really? That’s great!” 

John winks at her. “You’ll have it back before Torren even notices it’s gone. Can I do anything else for you?” 

“No, I think that’s all I need right now.” 

John's smile softens. "I'm glad you've decided to stay a while," he says, and Elizabeth can't help ducking her head like she's a young girl and not a trained diplomat. 

“Well, I had an offer I couldn’t refuse.” 

“I can’t imagine anyone could refuse you either,” John teases, and he looks her over. It’s fond and guileless, and Elizabeth thinks there’s can’t be a single person with a beating heart in New Athos that isn’t a little bit in love with him. She can’t help it either, she’s completely and utterly charmed. 

Elizabeth returns to Pegasus Auto, ostensibly to earn her keep by helping out. She doesn’t know the first thing about fixing an engine, but Halling keeps good records and as far as he’s concerned any time he can liberate from paperwork and spend with Jinto instead is more than worth a roof over her head. 

It’s a hot day, pushing a hundred on the mercury thermometer on the door frame, but Halling had magicked a fan from somewhere and set it up as the warm early hours turned uncomfortable. Elizabeth spent the morning calling up customers about unpaid bills; sweet-talked tight-fisted farmers and reminded busy parents, pressed a couple of insurance companies and made an affordable payment plan with a family who was going through a hard time.  

Now as she settles back at the desk, she spots Teyla in the workshop getting ready to work on an incredibly complex farm vehicle. It looks bigger than it probably is in the small space, but it’s the kind of thing with equipment on appendages that give it the air of a sea monster of legend. Elizabeth is filled with no small amount of dread as Teyla rolls her sleeves up, sets down on her creeper, and slides her petit body underneath, but she can’t deny the view as Teyla shimmies her hips to get comfortable.  

Here there be monsters. 

Halling appears at the door with a coffee from Laura, a sandwich from Radek, and a request. 

“About the Radim family?” he says as he hands over her sandwich bag. “Let’s discount them fifty percent.” 

Elizabeth grabs the file from the pile and flips to the latest bill, working a quick and dirty subtraction. "Sure, I can do that, as long as you are aware that would make a loss.” 

“I know. But Laura just told me that Dahlia’s back in the hospital again and I’m worried about their medical bills.” 

“Something serious?” 

“I’m...not sure. The Radim family keeps to themselves mostly. But it’s the fifth time I know of in as many months so...” 

Elizabeth looks back at the account. A fifty percent discount brings it right down, but it’s still a significant expense, especially if the money could be better used elsewhere. 

“I might be able to figure something out along the lines of a charitable deduction. That way we can write off most of the cost and bring the bill right down. We could absorb what's left.” 

“I think they’d appreciate that under the circumstances.” 

“I’ll let them know.” 

Halling lifts his hat and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “Ladon, he’s...uh...a little proud.” 

“I’ve noticed.” 

“He might need some convincing.” 

“I’ll think of something.” 

Halling taps the doorframe and heads back into the workshop as Elizabeth reaches for the phone.  

John calls Elizabeth a little earlier than she expects to tell her the job’s done. She can hear Rodney's voice in the background making not-so-nice with a customer as John details the repair in terms more complicated than she'd expect for a toy truck. She tells him she’ll be right over and grabs her coat before they’ve even hung up. 

It's important to her that she gets this right, but she's heard many things about Rodney's affinity for electronics and metal work so she's a little less nervous now that she knows she'll have a suitable offering for Torren. When Teyla brought it into work she’d opened the box and explained, in a very tired voice, that Torren was awake all night upset about his truck and she would need to run over to the Mart when it opened to see if it could be fixed. 

Elizabeth had taken one look at the list of repairs for the day and volunteered her time. Teyla’s sleepy smile was as warm as the coffee in Elizabeth’s cup. 

Teyla’s scribbling on a clipboard when she heads out, and she turns her head and gives Elizabeth a sweet kiss as she passes—chaste but not perfunctory. She is as dedicated to her work as she is to her son and as passionate about vehicle repair as she is about kissing Elizabeth. It’s hard to be mad at that kind of ethic. 

John's finishing up at the counter with someone as Elizabeth enters McKay’s Mini Mart. The bell is back where it belongs, and it rings as she opens the door. She spots a pale face and two blue eyes peeking through a gaps in the curtain at the back, but they vanish almost as soon as they met her gaze. 

“Hey Elizabeth,” says John as he pulls the box out from under the counter.  

He lifts the lid and hands her the truck for inspection, but she harboured no doubts that between the two of them, John and Rodney knew what they were doing, and she honestly wouldn’t know what to look for if she had. The repair is seamless, you wouldn’t know there had ever been any damage, and the paintwork has been touched up, the bright scarlet now free from scrapes and sporting a brand new flame decal on either side. 

Elizabeth had hoped to give Torren cause to smile; now she thinks she might be met with even more enthusiasm. 

“How much?” she asks, though it doesn’t really matter. Torren’s happiness, and by extension Teyla’s, is worth the entirety of her bank account. 

“Uh...it took maybe half an hour and we already had everything we needed, so let's say five dollars? " 

“Five dollars?"

“Oh, uh, three fifty would be just fine.” 

Elizabeth drops a twenty on the counter. “Does everyone around here undervalue their time and expertise?” 

“Well, yeah, maybe,” admits John. “But, you know, it’s a small community. And it really was a small job.” 

“To you,” presses Elizabeth. “But how much do you think it’ll be worth to Torren?” 

There’s a loud snort from the other side of the curtain as John shrugs off the praise. The muffled footsteps heading away are loud in the relative quiet of the shop. 

“Don’t mind Rodney,” says John. “He’s not great with new people but he’ll come around.” 

"Will you thank him for me?” 

“I can do one better.” John sticks his head through the beads and yells. “Hey McKay! Stop being an unsociable ass and come meet Elizabeth!” 

“I don’t want to!” 

John huffs and asks Elizabeth to hang on a minute as he slips through to the back. It’s hard not to hear the conversation as she packs the fire truck back up in its box. 

Are you gonna come out and say hi?  

No.  

You should give her a chance.  

I don’t know her, and I don’t want to know her.   

Teyla likes her.  

She’s still hurting after Sora.  

It’s been two years, buddy. You gotta let that one go.  

Rodney grumbles something barely audible, but Elizabeth catches the words “heartbreaker” and “foolish romantic” as the voices slowly approach the curtain. John’s laugh is a little wicked as he says; 

"Hey, who's the one that bought me red roses for our first Valentine?" 

"That was ten years ago. I panicked! There were no manly flowers for two hundred miles! I'd never dated a guy before!" 

"Hey, hey, I loved them. I love flowers." 

"Yeah, hence the dead garden out back." 

"S'not my fault buddy. If they didn't keep banning our hosepipes, we'd have a steady supply of herbs and lavender." 

"That....would be nice actually." 

“Get your butt out there, mister, and make nice. For me?” 

“Hmph.” 

“For Teyla?” 

John pulls back the curtain and Rodney stoops under his arm and stomps up to the counter. He glares at Elizabeth with his arms crossed, mouth a rigid line, determined to give no quarter to this stranger intruding on his turf.

It’s familiar territory for Elizabeth, who has spent years talking round unreasonable men. 

“I appreciate the fix, Mr McKay,” she says, nudging the box. 

“Mmmmhmmm,” is all Rodney says, until John nudges him with his elbow. He sighs dramatically, then says, “I appreciate your money.” 

Elizabeth grabs a tight hold on the smile that’s threatening to break loose. She’s learned the hard way you only get one first impression and she wants to get this one right. Rodney’s reluctance isn’t personal, and it clearly comes from an affection for Teyla rather than a slight on her. It’s hard to feel anything but gratitude. 

“I’m, uh, I’m meeting Torren today, so you can imagine I’m a little nervous.” 

Rodney nods like meeting a kid for the first time is one of life’s greatest fears to overcome, so she continues. 

“He’ll be thrilled to bits with the fix on his truck. And the paintwork.” 

“Paint was John.” 

“A team effort.” 

“Exactly.” 

“You come as a pair.” 

“We do.” 

“And I can’t help but notice that when John sings, he’s singing to you.” 

“Right.” 

“And Teyla says you’re Torren’s favourite uncle.” 

This throws Rodney from his carefully curated standoffishness and entices more than a little curiosity.  

“He does?” he asks, sounding as though he wants to believe something that he knows can’t possibly be true. 

“Mmmmhmmm. He has a picture he drew of you and him fixing things in his lunchbox." 

“Well, he has good taste.” 

“Clearly.” 

Rodney’s fingers start tapping on his arms as he looks Elizabeth over. 

“He likes Owly,” he says eventually, his shoulders dropping from his ears to somewhere about jaw level as his threat assessment comes up lower than expected. 

“Owly?” 

“It’s a comic book. About an owl. And a worm.” 

“Sounds like an interesting friendship.” 

"Well, it's not that hard to impress someone with the vocabulary of Dick and Jane, but the artwork is surprisingly detailed and the writing has some merit.” Rodney opens one of the drawers behind him and pulls out an envelope. He removes a comic from inside and presents it to Elizabeth. “If you really want to get in his good books, the next issue came in yesterday.” 

Elizabeth takes the comic and tucks it in the box. “Thank you, Mr McKay.” 

“Rodney.” 

“Thank you, Rodney.” 

“There is one more thing,” Rodney says. 

Elizabeth braces for some kind of warning or reprimand, but Rodney just grabs a big red bow off a revolving display by the till and sticks it on the lid of the box with such care and precision that Elizabeth honestly believes if she put a ruler to the lid, it would measure right in the middle. 

“Well, I gotta...” says Rodney, apparently reaching the end of his sociability for the day, and he points his thumb behind him and disappears through the curtain. 

John rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling and Elizabeth figures she’s done just fine. 

Elizabeth walks from Halling’s place to Teyla’s late in the afternoon with Torren’s box in her hands and a bag of apples and berries swinging from her arm courtesy of Ladon Radim. Presenting him with the final receipt of his bill, settled in full, was an absolute joy. For so many years Elizabeth had trundled along trying to reconcile the many places where US and International laws and customs clashed, but she’s rarely ever seen the fruits of her labours in person. To be on the receiving end of a single family's gratitude was humbling. To be presented with a gift of more fruit and veg than she could ever eat by herself was a delight. She split it half a dozen ways between Halling and Jinto, Laura and Radek, and John and Rodney, but Teyla had already left for home by the time Radim swung by and so Elizabeth picked some things she thought Torren would enjoy and kept them for herself. 

There have been so few children in her life, fewer still those she spent a significant amount of time with. She was never any good at make-believe, can't put on story voices to save her life, and she has absolutely no idea what topics of conversation a kid would enjoy. The last time she said more than hello and goodbye to someone younger than a teen, she was a child herself. And this...this is important, more so than winning over Rodney, because Torren is the centre of Teyla’s life and he might very well become a big part of hers.   

If he wants to. If he likes her. If she doesn't mess this up. If Teyla doesn't decide her failing to make him smile is a great big sign that inviting her was a mistake. 

Too soon she’s walking up the white pebbled path to Teyla’s front door. She’s seen the place from the outside, walking Teyla home, but never entered the gate. It’s a small bungalow, old but well-kept. The yard is full of plant pots, both decorative and functional, with hanging baskets by the front door and an insect hotel by the gate. Teyla told her she keeps chickens out the back, and there’s an honesty box just outside the fence with a change jar and a few empty eggboxes. It’s a little slice of nature in an inhospitable climate, and Elizabeth can’t imagine how she keeps everything alive and thriving when even the sidewalk wants to sweat. 

“Elizabeth.” 

Teyla opens the door before she reaches it, and Elizabeth is momentarily speechless. She’s changed out of her overalls into a white dress, short but not immodest, lacy but not frumpy, something Elizabeth’s mother would have called bohemian. She’s just as radiant dressed in overalls with smudges on her skin, but there’s something utterly breathtaking about the way her loose curls frame her face, and her skin is golden in the white fabric. Her feet are bare, and her legs are long, and there’s something so intimate about the carefree way Teyla has her ankles on show where anyone can see.  

Elizabeth can’t pull her eyes from Teyla, until her thighs are suddenly enveloped by stubby little arms and dark brown eyes peek out from behind. 

“Wanna say hi?” Teyla asks Torren, and unlike when John asked Rodney the choice isn’t an illusion. Elizabeth knows that if Torren runs to his room, Teyla will simply invite her in and wait until Torren’s curiosity outweighs his shyness. That’s not at all what happens though. Torren steps around his mother, one hand keeping a tight hold of the hem of her dress, and he reaches forward to tug Elizabeth’s sleeve.  

“Hi,” he says shyly, and Elizabeth’s heart is suddenly fit to bursting with how adorable he is. 

His eyes hone in on the box with the kind of open and honest curiosity only a child can have. Elizabeth passes it over into his suddenly unoccupied hands. He places it on the ground with great reverence and care, gets distracted for a moment by the red bow, then slips the lid off and shrieks In delight when he sees his truck. 

“Mama, mama, mama,” he says, lifting the truck into his arms and hopping on the spot. 

“What do you say, Torren?” 

“Fanks!” Torren says to Elizabeth with a wide grin.  

“There’s something else in there too,” says Elizabeth, and Torren’s eyes widen with excitement. He stuffs the truck under one arm and pulls out the comic. 

“Owly!” he says, and his joy is infectious. 

Elizabeth finds herself laughing as he rushes indoors and presents his truck to the cat in the hallway. Teyla’s laughing too, and Elizabeth wonders if she’s feeling the same relief, or if she never had any doubts about how this would go. 

Teyla picks up the box and reaches for Elizabeth’s hand to lead her indoors. She nudges the door closed with her bare foot behind them.