fic: Lizzie Love [Not Happening challenge]

[seldearslj]

TITLE: Lizzie Love
AUTHOR: Sel
SUMMARY: Elizabeth's in Atlantis, all's well with the world...
CATEGORY: Satire
RATING: PG-13
WORDCOUNT: 10,000 (it's still a flashfic if you write it in 3 sittings, right?)

Lizzie Love

Elizabeth woke with a gasp.

She'd half-levered herself onto her elbow in waking, elemental panic making her heart race. But it was only the Atlantis infimary, nothing to worry about.

"Liz?" John climbed off the next bed over, then turned. "Beckett! Get over here, Elizabeth's awake!"

His commanding tones were edged with the kind of concern he usually reserved for tense situations and Elizabeth sat up, alarmed. "John?" She winced as a momentary dizziness came over her.

John sat down on the bed next to her, and his arm came around her shoulders. "It's okay, Liz," he said, easing her back against his shoulder and patting her arm. "You just had a blackout spell. You'll be fine."

Disconcerted, both by his caresses and his reassurances - John was not a man for casual physical contact with her - Elizabeth eased herself away from him in the bed. A faint frown crossed his face, but he didn't try to touch her again.

"A blackout?" He'd called for Carson quite urgently. "I fainted?"

Carson came into the room at a run, his coat flying out behind her. "Oh, she's awake? Thank God. I tell you, I've never been so worried in my life as when John called to say you'd fainted." He quickly moved to the other side of the bed from John and took her hand. "Does anything hurt? How many fingers am I holding up? Would you like me to get you a coffee?"

"I...I'm fine." Elizabeth extracted her hand from Carson's. "Nothing hurts." She hesitated a moment. Nothing hurt exactly, but she was feeling a little strange. "What happened to me?"

Both men seemed surprised as they looked at her. "You mean you don't remember?"

Her memory seemed oddly blank for a moment, before the mists cleared. "I..." Elizabeth blinked. "I was translating one of the walls in that room Dr. Mettyn found on the third floor of the north-east wing. Tower two."

The room was a surprise discovery, a large, light, airy room with designs that spread across the walls and ceiling, and even the door when it was closed. Dr. Tirrina Mettyn had a trace of the Ancient gene - about as much as Carson - and the walls had glowed very faintly in her presence, so Elizabeth had called John up to the room, apologising for breaking up his sparring time with Teyla.

She remembered tracing her finger along one of the lines of the design, as the door opened behind her. Dr. Mettyn looked up and there was a flash of light--

"You fell just as I came in," said John. "Luckily, I caught you before you hit the ground."

"Dr. Mettyn wasn't hurt?" The two men exchanged a look, and Elizabeth felt dread fill her. "She was?"

"Oh," Carson said, "I'm sure Dr. Mettyn is fine."

"And I'm okay?"

"Well, we're worried that you fainted," said John. "You've been working yourself too hard lately."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Everyone's been working too hard," she said, beginning to ease herself off the bed. "I'm not the only one."

"But we're worried about you." Carson seemed very earnest. "Look, satisfy your doctor and go to bed early. Sleep," he added with a significant glance at John. Confused, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder to find John at his most spuriously innocent. She wasn't sure what was going on here, but she was getting very mixed signals from both men and she didn't know what to make of it.

"You haven't had an afternoon off in...oh, a few days now," John said, his voice low and soft. If Elizabeth hadn't known better, she'd have thought he was trying to be seductive. "It won't be hurting anyone to relax for an afternoon."

She gave him another glance. A few days? Her last afternoon off had been...nearly a month ago. Since then, crisis after crisis had taken her attention, starting with the takeover attempt by Phoebus and Thalen and ending, most recently, with a trading issue between Captain Rogers' team and some Pegasus locals. Teyla had been able to help smooth that one out, but as the leader of Atlantis, Elizabeth had been in the thick of things.

The thought of an early night was very attractive, but she knew she had some reports that needed to be written in the next day. "I'm fine," she said firmly. "But I will get to bed early." At Carson's frown, she smiled. "I promise."

It was with some reluctance that they let her leave the infirmary, and she could feel their eyes upon her as she walked out and headed for her office.

"Dr. Weir! It's good to see you up!" The cheery call from one of the marines nearly stopped her in her tracks.

"Uh, thank you, Sergeant Doran."

The man's eyes widened as she replied to him, and he gave an almost fearful nod and hurried on. Elizabeth looked after him, slightly bemused.

Next were a couple of scientists. "Oh, Dr. Weir, we heard you fainted!" "So terrible!" "It's wonderful to know you're okay!"

Even more bewildered, Elizabeth thanked them and kept going.

It was the same everywhere she went, people greeted her with such obvious relief and effusive welcome that she felt...conspicuous. Like she was missing something important.

She ran into Rodney as she was climbing the stairs to the control room. "Rodney!"

"Elizabeth!" He stared at her. "You're okay!"

"Shouldn't I be? Look, Rodney, could I see you in my office for a minute?"

He put his hand over his heart in a flamboyant gesture. "For you, Elizabeth, anything."

She eyed him for a moment, but he followed her up to the control room where the techs all stood and began to babble their greetings. Elizabeth finally extracted herself from the crowd and got to her office where Rodney was grinning like an idiot. As she closed the door on the techs, she saw them all staring at her, beaming at her.

It was hard not to shudder. Something weird was going on here and she wanted to know what it was.

"Rodney, tell me what's going on."

Rodney looked surprised. "Going on? Nothing's going on."

Taking her seat, she jerked her head at the control room, and he turned. "That? Why would that surprise you? Listen, Elizabeth, are you feeling okay? I mean, Sheppard said you fainted. Have you been eating normally? Sleeping?" A sly smirk crossed his face. "Well, I know you haven't been--"

"I'm fine," she snapped, then regretted it when he began to look dejected. "I'm sorry, Rodney, but I'm just not... Things are beginning to feel strange."

In a surprise gesture, Rodney reached out and patted her hand. "It's okay, Elizabeth," he said. "You've just woken up from a dead faint, it's no wonder you're feeling strange."

Elizabeth took her hand back, more than a little disconcerted by Rodney's gesture. "Are you feeling okay, Rodney?" He didn't seem to be behaving quite normally.

Rodney frowned. "I'm fine. I'm not the one who's been working herself to death."

"I'm hardly dead," she pointed out. "Never mind, Rodney. I must be..." ...imagining things... "...more tired than I thought. I'll get to bed early tonight."

"And sleep?"

She wondered what else she'd be doing in her bed. It wasn't as though she had a lover in Atlantis.

"And sleep," she said.

"Promise?"

"Go away, Rodney," she said lightly.

He went, glancing anxiously at her as he left.

Elizabeth sighed as the door slid closed behind him. Then she opened her laptop and checked the date and time - same day, same year...all normal.

Something weird was going on.

If she could only put her finger on it.

--

Someone was running his hand along her arms, along her shoulder and across her cheek in a tender caress. It had been a while since she'd woken up next to someone - over two years since she'd last slept with Simon...

Elizabeth woke abruptly as she realised that whoever this someone was, he shouldn't be in her bed.

Her eyes flew open and met John's lazy grin from beside her. "Morning, beautiful," he said, leaning over so his lips descended on hers...

John?

She scrambled away from him, in such a hurry to evade him - what was wrong with him? - that she completely missed the edge of the bed and tumbled off in a billow of sheets.

"Elizabeth?" His head appeared over the edge of the bed. And not just his head, but bare shoulders and a significant stretch of chest. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Elizabeth demanded. "What...what are you doing here?"

John was looking at her like she'd grown another head. And oddly hurt. "I sleep here sometimes. Quite a lot lately." That was delivered in a downright smug tone of voice.

'Quite a lot lately'? What...?

Elizabeth was pretty sure she would have remembered if she'd been sleeping with John Sheppard. Firstly, she probably would have received a call from General Landry at some stage about the inadvisability of carrying on relationships with men in her command. Secondly, it would have been base news and someone would have mentioned it to her. Thirdly, Steven Caldwell would have been giving her even more pointed looks than he already was after the Phoebus-Thalen takeover.

And fourthly, because she knew who she wasn't sleeping with and John Sheppard was most definitely at the top of that list!

Okay, stay calm. There's obviously something wrong with him - he's got amnesia, or maybe an alien virus. I'll get Carson to check him over and this will never happen again. Unlucky you.

John, apparently alarmed by her panicked silence, was moving over to 'her' side of the bed, prepatory to getting out. Elizabeth carefully looked away, just in case he was naked. "John?"

"Yeah, beautiful?"

"Please don't call me beautiful."

"But you are."

"I... I'm not in the mood for it right now." Something was definitely going on. This was not John's usual kind of behaviour. She kept staring at the patch of floor. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, baby."

Privately, Elizabeth thought 'baby' was worse than 'beautiful'. She let it pass. "I'd like to you go and talk to Carson."

"Another headache?"

"Yes," she lied.

"I can make it better." His tone of voice that left her in no doubt exactly what his idea of 'making it better' involved. Elizabeth wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry.

"I'll stick with the ibuprofen," she said. "Go and see Carson and get me some. You can bring it to my office." And the office will be much safer than the bedroom. I hope.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Elizabeth assured him, still careful to look anywhere but at the man.

"Are you going to get up from the floor?"

"Eventually." Once you've gone away.

She heard him climb out of bed, a little huffy from the sound of it, and kept her face averted as he put on his clothes.

It wasn't until the doors had hissed shut behind him that she reached for her earpiece and paged Carson. It was nearly...oh God, nearly eight-thirty! And her alarm hadn't gone off at it's usual time of seven?

"Carson?" At this hour, Carson would probably be in the infirmary, unless he had a meeting with the medical personnel of the expedition.

"Elizabeth? Is everything okay?"

She was beginning to wonder herself. "I've just sent John to you to get some ibuprofen, but I think you should run a complete medical check on him. He's...behaving oddly."

"Oddly? Oddly how?"

'Climbing into my bed in the middle of the night' oddly, she thought but didn't say. "Just...not the way he usually does." It sounded lame to her ears.

It probably sounded lame to Carson's ears, too. There was a pause, before he came back. "You know he's worried about you."

Elizabeth felt like retorting, Who isn't around here? The volume of concern over her health was touching, but she was feeling very much like she'd just recovered from a bout of something potentially deadly. "I'd still like you to check him over," she said firmly.

"All right. I'll have the results to you by midday."

"Thank you, Carson."

She extracted herself from the sheets, coiling them all together and dumping them on the bed while she went to get dressed.

The closet was full of clothing.

Almost none of it was hers.

There was a lot of green and red. Not the duller, muted greens and reds she might wear around the base, but the vivid emeralds and scarlets. Thankfully, after a quick flip through the wardrobe looking for something she could actually wear, Elizabeth discovered the red and green were rarely together. At least whoever stocked this didn't make her look like a Christmas tree!

Who had taken all her clothing anyway and left all this stuff in its place? And why?

Most of the closet was taken up with dresses. Long balldresses, flowing formal evening gowns slit all the way up to the thigh, short baby-girl dresses - which made no sense since Elizabeth had never suited the style at any point in her life - and slinky black sheaths that she might have worn back when she was in her twenties, but which she felt were decidedly unbecoming the dignity of a woman firmly headed for forty.

The laundry staff usually hang up my regular fatigues. Maybe they folded them up and put them in the dresser somewhere?

Elizabeth went to the dresser and pulled open the drawer that usually held her fatigue trousers in the faded not-quite-olive-green of the Atlantis expedition.

The gleaming reflection of vinyl skirts leered blackly up at her. A quick perusal of the contents found only miniskirts and leather pants - and a pair of fishnet stockings.

Someone around here is definitely having fun with me, she decided. The other drawers held similiarly impractical clothing - in every shape, colour, or style - much of it more suited to an adolescent girl in the throes of a fashion fad than a mature woman.

Even Teyla didn't dress like this while sparring with John. Then again, the Athosians dressed in close-fitting clothing for practicality and ease of movement, not out of any desire to sexualise the body. From what Elizabeth had seen of the Pegasus galaxy, it seemed that sexualisation of the body through scanty or close-fitting clothing was an Earth concept.

She rather envied Teyla her freedom.

Right now, she'd take any item of Teyla's wardrobe over what she had here.

A pair of fatigues were finally located in the bottomost drawer, tucked all the way back, out of sight. They smelled a bit musty from disuse, and were wrinkled, but Elizabeth sighed in relief.

Half an hour, a long shower and some personal grooming later, Elizabeth was working in her office and feeling that things were almost normal.

Well, except for the surprised looks the techs were giving her for being late. Those, she was ignoring.

Then Rodney brought her a cup of coffee.

She took a gulp without thinking, grateful for the drink. By the time she'd thought to get some, she'd been in the middle of a report and writing away. It was easier to ignore the cravings of her stomach and just promise she'd get one mid-morning.

"Thank you, Rodney."

"Oh, there's no thanks necessary," he told her, taking a seat without asking permission. "I was getting myself some - my third cup today - and I thought you might like one."

There were times when Rodney McKay could be the most pissy, annoying, arrogant sonovabitch that Elizabeth had ever had to work with. And she'd worked with more than a few in her time - a high-profile female negotiator often got the deals that were marked, 'comes complete with asshats'. Of course, Rodney made up for it by being brilliant, if immodest, and occasionally quite thoughtful in a Rodney McKay way.

"I would like one and now I have one, so I'm going to say 'Thank you', anyway," Elizabeth told him. She finished up the final paragraph of a report and pondered whether to put any more detail in.

"You're working pretty hard this morning."

She glanced up with a slight smile. "I did sleep last night."

"Really?" He looked skeptical. "Because I saw John heading towards your room--"

"You saw John...?" Elizabeth automatically glanced at the door to check it was shut. It was. "Nothing happened," she assured him. "I sent John to see Carson this morning."

His reaction wasn't anything she'd expected - astonishment. "Why?"

Elizabeth stared back. "Because he turned up in my bed!"

Rodney had the look of someone humouring her - which was strange anyway. Rodney didn't humour anyone - even Elizabeth. "You sent him to Carson because he turned up in your bed...?"

Confused at the emphasis, Elizabeth was still staring at him when the door opened and John strode in. "Morning, Liz!"

"John." She eyed him as the door slid shut behind him. "Did you see Carson?"

"Yeah. And I got your tablets." He held up a packet. "See?"

Elizabeth saw. She also saw him coming around the desk towards her, and pushed herself up in alarm, only to find herself seized and kissed - with disconcerting thoroughness - and trying to fight him off. She shoved him away and ran the back of her hand over her mouth. "What was that?"

"A kiss?"

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

This is not happening to me. It can't be. A glance at Rodney showed him beaming all over his face. Beyond him, in the control room, the techs were craning their necks to see and clapping and cheering like it was some kind of a spectacle!

Elizabeth flushed as she backed away from John, her hands up to indicate he shouldn't come any closer. She ignored the soulful look John was giving her, the hurt expression that suggested she'd just kicked a puppydog incapable of caring for itself, and kept backing up as he followed her.

"John, what's gotten into you today?"

"What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you? God, Elizabeth, I was so worried about you yesterday!"

"When I fainted?"

"You were unconscious for nearly half an hour!"

"I woke up," she pointed out. "I had a good night's sleep, I'm fine. There've been no bad side-effects--" Except for everyone treating me like I'm made of crystal. "I'm back at work!"

"You didn't want me to make love to you this morning!"

Doubletake moment. Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. Her skin heated in an embarrassed flush. She looked at Rodney whose eyes had widened at John's words. "It's not what you think," she told him.

It wasn't what she thought, either. "You didn't want John to make love to you this morning?"

Now it was her turn to stare. And decide that enough was enough. "Rodney," she said, "out." When he hesitated, she pointed at the door. "Now."

John waited until the door slid shut behind Rodney, then took another step forward. "Liz--"

"My name is 'Elizabeth,'" she gritted out. "Not 'beautiful' or 'baby' or anything else you might come up with. And if you can't manage 'Elizabeth' then 'Dr. Weir' will be fine. John, what's going on? You're not usually like this."

Something sulky came over his features. "No, you're not usually like this!" Before she could stop him, he had his hands on her arms, and was looking tenderly into her face. "Did I say something to anger you, baby?"

Her head was spinning - and it had nothing to do with his proximity. "Get your hands off me, John." Elizabeth made the words as hard and cold as she could manage. "Right now."

Thank God, he backed off. She didn't know what she'd have done if he hadn't. John was stronger than she was, and military trained in hand-to-hand besides. He couldn't take out Teyla, but then nobody could take out Teyla except Ronon.

Where were Teyla and Ronon anyway?

"I think you should go and see Carson, Elizabeth," he said, sounding oh-so-reasonable, and very unlike John Sheppard as she'd ever seen him before. "You're not acting like yourself."

"Because I kicked you out of my room?"

"You were the one who fell out of bed this morning because you were trying to avoid me!" Offended and hurt was not John Sheppard - not unless he was fooling around. Elizabeth had a feeling that in this case, he wasn't.

"You were in my bed!"

"Elizabeth, we've been lovers for two years! Of course I was in your bed!"

She stared. Of all the excuses, reasons and possibilities she'd entertained, this was not one of them. "Two years? What are you talking about?"

"From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I had to have you," he told her passionately. "It was fate, Liz, we're soul-mates!"

I'm going insane, she thought. Because John Sheppard - one of the most practical and unromantic men of my acquaintance just used the term 'soul mates' to describe his relationship with me without smirking as though it's a joke.

"And I knew from that first encounter we had, out on the balcony, that we were destined for each other," John continued. "You don't get that kind of passionate argument unless people really desperately want each other!"

If he was talking about the argument they'd had over his going to rescue Colonel Sumner, then Elizabeth recalled being rather more angry at John for wanting to run in and play the hero than desperately wanting him in her bed.

Okay, so she had the occasional fantasy about John Sheppard. What of it? During her time in Atlantis, she'd also had fantasies about Simon, Carson, Rodney, Zelenka, General O'Neill, and Ronon. Once, she'd had one about Teyla. That one had been quite hot - and rather worrying, especially since Elizabeth had never swung that way before. And, from the look of it, wasn't likely to, since Teyla certainly hadn't made any moves on Elizabeth.

It didn't mean anything. She was a mature woman with hormones that occasionally made her horny - it had nothing to do with whom she was attracted to, let alone whom she slept with.

"I only broke up with Simon when we got back to Earth!" Although it was more correct to say that he'd broken up with her. Elizabeth still felt the sting of that, sometimes. Yes, she'd told him to move on, but she'd been disappointed to discover, a mere month later, that he'd moved on so fast.

John shrugged. "You left him behind on Earth when you came on the expedition. He can't have meant that much to you."

Except that she'd also tried to get Simon included on the expedition when she went back!

"And I saved you from Kolya," he continued. "Remember?"

She could point out that he'd saved both her and Rodney from Commander Acastus Kolya, even if her 'death' had been the prompt. "I hope you would have saved anyone in that situation from Kolya and not just me!"

"Well, of course I would." His expression turned indignant. "But because it was you, it means that we have a special connection. Besides," he looked smug, "you can't keep your hands off me! Even Phoebus knew it."

Elizabeth held back a shudder by the thinnest of margins.

Phoebus was one thing she didn't want to remember. The cool feel of the woman's vicious mind in hers, the hatred that had hollowed the soldier out long before time and age took their toll, the manipulation she used to get anything and everything she wanted - if not by charm, then by threat...

Too close to the bone.

"Phoebus wanted me, you, and Thalen off-balance," she reminded him. And wanted to get her hands on the man she'd hated and wanted for so long. The description of Thalen as Phoebus' husband had been to get Thalen imprinted into one of the Atlantis personnel, the choice of the expedition's military leader had been for maximum chaos, and the kiss had been because Phoebus wanted to.

John scowled. "No," he said forcefully. "She was influenced by your passionate love for me into getting Thalen into my body specifically so we could kiss!"

Specifically? This time, he shuffled a little when she gaped at him. But if he'd even listened to what was coming out of his mouth, he didn't seem to hear it the way Elizabeth did. In the end, all she managed was, "And then kill each other later?"

"One for the road," he said, shrugging. It didn't seem to bother him. At least, not beyond the fact that the kiss proved we're apparently madly in love with each other. "Besides," he declared, smug as Rodney, "you can't keep your hands off me!"

There were times when the people Elizabeth worked with grated on her nerves. She'd learned when it was getting too much for her to handle. Right now, if she didn't get John out of her presence very soon, then she was going to say something very sharp, very cutting, and very cruel to him.

"Oh?" Elizabeth asked, her voice soft and dangerous. "Watch me!" She pointed at the door. "Get out, John."

He didn't get out right away. At first, he stared at her, as though unable to believe her. Then he began to look hurt, and walked away - slowly, as though he was waiting for her to call him back.

She didn't, of course, and this time when the door closed behind him, she set it so it wouldn't open to anyone unless she authorised their entry. Then she flung herself into her chair and exhaled slowly.

Then she called up Carson again. "Carson, you're sure you haven't picked up anything...different about Colonel Sheppard"

"Quite certain. Elizabeth, what is going on?"

"I'd like to know that myself," she muttered. "Look, would you please check the Colonel again." Thinking of Rodney, she added, "And Rodney, too. In fact, get Teyla and Ronon in." For all she knew it might be the whole team suffering from this...malady.

There was a pause. "Teyla's gone to the mainland."

"Then just the Colonel, Rodney, and Ronon, Carson."

"And do you know what I'm looking for?"

She didn't. "Anything that might be making them behave...strangely."

"Strangely. Right."

Carson promised her some details within the hour and Elizabeth sat back in her chair and resisted the urge to pull her hair out by the roots.

--

The expulsion of John from her office served to leave her undisturbed for nearly an hour. Then one of the techs knocked gently on the door with a wad of paperwork, looking more than a little worried.

Elizabeth unlocked the door and let the aide in. "I'm sorry, Corporal, I've just been...trying to get things done this morning."

"Yes, ma'am." The Corporal looked almost terrified as she came in the door. "Er, there are some reports for you to sign - they came in from the scientists earlier, but I didn't want to disturb you--"

The young woman was hovering, almost as though she was afraid of getting too close to the desk. "It's okay, just put them in my inbox." One finger indicated the inbox.

"Ma'am, there's also some personnel forms that require signing."

"How many?"

Corporal Ayre ruffled through the sheets, "Five, ma'am."

Elizabeth held out her hand. "I'll do them now, then." At least one paper copy of everything was required in Atlantis, usually for signatures. It was then scanned in and stored, one copy as normal, the other using some encryption codes. As Rodney said, it obviously wasn't hackproof, but since there probably weren't too many hackers in Atlantis they shouldn't have to worry about it too much.

As she looked them over preparing to sign them, she glanced up at Ayre. "How's the putting club going, Corporal?" With her permission, a couple of rooms had been set aside with little putting courses for city personnel. A club had instantly been formed to accommodate the number of people who wanted a go on it, and Corporal Ayre was the secretary.

"Ma'am?"

"I heard that Sergeant Colson spent most of his day off on the course," Elizabeth finished reading the document, picked up a pen and signed. "Do you plan to change it every few months?"

The silence drew her attention from the sheet of paper. Corporal Ayre was staring at her.

"Corporal? Is everything all right?" She was asking that question a lot lately. "Have I turned into a Wraith?"

Corporal Ayre found her voice. "No, ma'am. But...uh...you've never shown interest in--" She caught herself. "Yes, ma'am. The club is running fine."

Elizabeth frowned as she looked back down at the document she'd just signed. She was fairly certain she'd asked Ayre about the putt-putt club before, and Ayre had even invited her to come and have a go. Privately, Elizabeth wasn't particularly fond of golf, but she'd been planning to take a few hours and have a go in the next few weeks...

This time, in the prolonged silence, it was the Corporal's turn to ask, "Ma'am?"

Elizabeth was squinting at the name she'd just written. It didn't look like her usual signature - a lot more scribbly, with fewer loops. She frowned. I should take more care next time. "Sorry, Corporal." She dismissed it and began reading the next document. "You were planning to change it every few months?"

"Well, we hadn't thought about it, ma'am..." Corporal Ayre launched into some anecdotes about the club and its members, and Elizabeth listened with half an ear as she looked over the document, then signed it.

She watched in surprise as her hand moved up and down the paper, almost of its own accord. Her intent was to sign her name, but the resultant signature was very different to her usual swirl of loops - a scrawl of letters that definitely didn't spell 'Elizabeth Weir'.

"Ma'am?" That was twice in one signing session.

"I... I'm sorry, Corporal. I seem to be...messing things up today. I can't even sign my own name."

Ayre looked at her in surprise, then leaned cautiously over the desk, her eyes on Elizabeth. When nothing seemed forthcoming, she glanced down at the paper. "That's your name, ma'am. See? 'Elizabeth Weir'."

Elizabeth stared at the paper. Then she stared at the Corporal. "It doesn't look like--"

"Elizabeth?" Her earpiece buzzed.

"Carson?"

"I think you should come to infirmary."

The tests I asked him to run on John and his team! She stood abruptly, astonished and hurt when the Corporal jumped back, almost cowering behind the chair. God, but the woman was nervous! "Corporal, I have to go see Dr. Beckett... Just leave the documents here, I'll bring them out to you once they're signed."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," said Ayre hastily. "I'll come back and get them later, ma'am."

"If it's on my way, it's no trouble." And the personnel archives were on the way to the mess hall, so she'd drop it off when she went for lunch.

"Ah...I..." The Corporal looked bewildered, and Elizabeth wondered if everyone but her had this bizarre malady that caused them to act just a little strange. "I... Thank you, ma'am. I'll....I'll see you this aft... When you decide to drop them off. Whenever." And Ayre hurried out.

Elizabeth watched her go and wondered why Ayre had given the impression of being afraid of her.

She walked into the infirmary, prepared for the worst.

Discovering John, Rodney, and Carson in conference with each other wasn't exactly 'the worst' but Elizabeth had a bad feeling about it even before they turned towards her. "I think you need to be checked over, Elizabeth. John and Rodney agree - you're not yourself today."

"I'm not myself?" She nearly backed away, before she realised that it wasn't as though there was anywhere for her to run. "Carson--"

"We think the stress of the job might be getting to you," said John, looking earnest.

"You been working--"

Elizabeth cut across them. "I have not been working too hard," she told them. "No harder than anyone else in this city. I took a break yesterday to translate the room!" It had been something that needed to be done and a nice change from all the reviews, reports, and documentation that she would otherwise have been doing.

The three men exchanged a glance. It was an unfamiliar look, but she knew what it meant immediately.

They think I'm crazy. Then, hard on the heels of that thought came the sinking feeling, Maybe I am.

"All right," she said, keeping her voice moderate and even. "I'll let Carson examine me. Alone," she added when the other two men looked like they were going to stay and watch.

At least Carson waited until they were gone before he spoke. "You don't think you're being a bit harsh on them, Elizabeth?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I... They've never been like this before." She looked around at the infirmary, checking to see if there was anyone around. Then she lowered her voice. "I asked you to examine John because...he thinks we've been lovers for the last two years."

Carson paused. "Two years?" Then he saw her expression and hastily rearranged his own. "I'm sure...it's just a phase," he said, turning away to lay the swab samples aside before picking up a tourniquet strap and slipping it over her left arm. "You haven't had any headaches or dizzy spells since yesterday?"

"It wasn't a dizzy spell," Elizabeth said as he pulled the tourniquet tight and began feeling her elbow for suitable veins. "The room responded when John walked into it - it flashed once, and...the light must have gone to my head or something."

The antiseptic swab was cold on the skin and the needle a brief pinprick, but Carson looked up as blood began spilling into the canister. "Light sensitivity usually only happens when you're tired, Elizabeth."

"I slept last night," she defended. And woke up to John in my bed.

Not something she wanted to think about right now.

It wasn't that she didn't like John. It was just that...she didn't want to think of him that way, because of the kind of trouble it could cause in the expedition.

As the glass tube filled, Carson loosened the tourniquet, then reached for a cotton ball and extracted the needle. "Well, we'll have some results in a couple of hours," he said. "But I still think--"

"I've been working too hard," she finished, sourly. "As you've all been telling me."

Carson disposed of the needle and put the canister away. "Well," he said, putting a tiny band-aid over the wound and pressing down on it. "I'm hoping it's just a temporary thing, but either way, we'll deal with it." He patted her on the shoulder before he took up the tray. "Don't be too hard on the Colonel, Elizabeth. He loves you. We all do."

And off he walked, leaving Elizabeth staring after him.

He loves you. We all do.

With those words ringing in her ears, she made her way back to her office - and stopped as she caught a glimpse of the Stargate.

Someone had found a sheet and some black paint, ladders and string. The sign's letters gleamed wetly in the city's internal lighting, and as people realised she was there, they began cheering and clapping, their faces full of...adoration.

And the banner.

ELIZABETH!

YOU ARE OUR SUN, OUR MOON, OUR SHINING STARS!

WE DWELL IN DARKNESS WITHOUT YOU!

Elizabeth looked around at the city's personnel in horror.

He loves you. We all do.

If it hadn't been for the fact that this had been going on all day, then she would have suspected a practical joke - probably on John's part. But all this - climbing into her bed, the declarations of love, the overdone concern, Carson's involvement, the damned banner hanging over the Stargate... It went too far - it was over the top and ridiculous in a way that made Elizabeth want to laugh - or scream.

If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck...

Well, this place looked like Atlantis, but it didn't feel like Atlantis!

She turned on her heel

And if all this insanity didn't stop soon, she was going to be as crazy as they thought her.

I need to talk to someone sane. And soon.

--

Teyla wasn't in her room.

In fact, when Elizabeth walked into the room, it seemed...empty. Oh, there were signs that Teyla lived here once in a while - some small mementoes, bits and pieces, a spare fur on the bed - but the room smelled musty, unused.

Even more confused, Elizabeth went to the gym to see if the other woman was there. At least with Teyla she probably wouldn't have to worry about declarations of undying love.

You are our sun, our moon, our shining stars! We dwell in darkness without you!

She hoped.

The man moving through a series of stretches in the otherwise-empty gym definitely wasn't Teyla.

"Dr. Weir."

"Ronon."

Any other man would have asked if she was looking for someone. Most of the time, Ronon just waited for her to state her business or walk away, although he was getting better at social interaction with expedition members other than John, Teyla, or the marines.

"Have you seen Teyla today? I went to her room, but it looks like she hasn't been sleeping there for the last couple of nights."

It occurred to Elizabeth that Teyla might have been spending her nights elsewhere. And if she was spending her nights elsewhere, then one of the prime possibilities was that she was spending them with Ronon.

If John had been acting normally, then Elizabeth would have considered him a possible candidate, too. She could still hear Thalen's words in her head - a declaration that John had neither confirmed nor denied, stepping carefully around it in the discussion following the incident.

But John wasn't acting normally and Teyla wasn't anywhere to be found and Ronon was looking at her with the expression behind which he was wondering if she was crazy.

"Teyla's gone to the mainland," he said at last. He looked almost wary saying it, as though he expected her to throw a tantrum because Teyla wasn't in the city. "Dr. Weir--"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," she warned, trying to manage a smile. "Everyone's already asked that today!"

"Okay." Ronon paused. "Why are you looking for Teyla?"

She hesitated about telling him. The last thing she wanted was one more person thinking the stress of the job had gotten to her.

But he hadn't been hovering over her, at least.

"I..." Elizabeth shook her head. "Never mind. It's...probably not important."

She nearly walked away, then turned back at the last minute. "Ronon?"

"Dr. Weir?"

"Would you..." She almost said, 'Never mind' again. Only the memory of John's earlier insistence that they were lovers moved her on. "Would you teach me some self-defence moves? You offered once before." And I turned the lessons down because I thought I wouldn't be needing them.

Ironically, the last time Ronon had offered her self-defence lessons, she'd been unable to defend herself against John.

Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something, she thought with a touch of cynicism.

Ronon still hadn't answered her question. After she'd declined the previous time, maybe he'd decided she wasn't worth the bother.

Then, finally, he spoke. "You don't have anything to learn."

"I don't know anything about defending myself--"

"No," he agreed. "But I can't teach you."

"Why not?"

Ronon shrugged. "Just can't."

How can I not have anything to learn about defending myself? Elizabeth was staggered. "I don't want to know about how to shoot or...or execute missions, Ronon. I just want to know how to fend off someone bigger and stronger than me!"

"And I have nothing to teach you." He seemed bewildered by her insistence, standing tall and loose, his hands by his sides.

Irrationally angered by his refusal, Elizabeth crossed the room and picked up a pair of staves. "Okay, then," she said, "fight me."

His eyes widened in the midday light flowing through the windows of the gym. "Fight you?"

"If you've got nothing to teach me, then you won't be able to beat me." It was going to be a painful way to get her point across, but Elizabeth was willing to undergo a little pain to get the learning she needed.

Ronon winced, but when she added, "Please," he reluctantly picked up a couple of sticks and fell into a defensive position.

Watching him, Elizabeth realised she had very little idea of how to hold herself. She wasn't even dressed for combat in her fatigues and shirt and very-much-not-a-sports-bra. Still, it wasn't as though she'd ever had even half a chance against Ronon.

Usually.

She made a tentative jab towards him when she realised he wasn't going to attack. If the reticence seemed a bit odd, well, he was the better fighter and would be able to take her out without even breaking a sweat. He blocked her, but she saw him wince.

Wince?

Her follow-up blow had as much force behind it as she could manage - it wasn't as though she was going to be able to seriously hurt him!

Famous last words.

It all happened in slow-motion. Elizabeth saw his face convulse in a grimace as her blow took him in the shoulder. She heard the cracking wrench of the joint, heard the grunt of agony he gave as his shoulder dislocated and he stumbled back.

"Oh, God, Ronon, I'm sorry!" She dropped the staves and took a step towards him, then stopped when he turned away. His breathing was harsh as he walked away from her to the opposite wall, almost staggering. As Elizabeth watched in fascinated horror, he set his injured shoulder against the wall and pushed.

She flinched at the noise, revoltingly bone-and-meat in the quiet of the gym, but his face didn't look as badly contorted as before, although he was clearly still in pain. He rested his forehead against the wall for a few panting seconds, and when he stood up again, the arm no longer hung awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," she repeated quietly. "I didn't think it would... I didn't hit you that hard!"

He shrugged - and gritted his teeth as his shoulder protested. "I said I didn't have anything to teach you," he told her, gently testing the movement in the injured arm. His jaw worked as he did so, but he might have just been stretching a stiff muscle for all the pain he showed.

As Elizabeth watched him, her brain suddenly latched onto a random assumption that she'd made. "Ronon?"

"Dr. Weir?"

"You can call me Elizabeth."

Another shrug, this time with nothing more than a faint grimace. Carson had said Ronon's pain threshold was unbelievably high. He'd done the surgery to remove the Wraith tracer without an anaesthetic, and Ronon had only fallen unconscious at the end. Looking at him now, Elizabeth could well believe it. "Elizabeth."

"Have we... You said you didn't have anything to teach me. Have we...have we sparred like this before?" His expression said it all. "And you...I ended up beating you?"

"Yep." He seemed resigned about it - oddly so for a man who'd lived on the run for seven years. She'd have thought that the sheer insanity of a woman untrained in combat beating a hardened soldier - at least in anything short of a scenario where she had a gun and he was completely unarmed - would be humiliating.

Elizabeth was stunned. "When was this?"

"When I first arrived in Atlantis." He looked at her. "You okay?"

"Am I okay? You're the one who ended up on the floor!"

He eyed her. "Is that a yes or a no?"

The window seat beckoned, Elizabeth took it and rested her head in her hands, combing her fingers through her loose hair.

"No, then." There was an element of humour in his voice. "Dr. Weir--"

"Elizabeth."

"--do you want me to call Sheppard or--"

"No!" Her head came up. "No, not John." At his blatant astonishment, she explained, "I... He's been acting strangely. Everyone's been acting strangely."

"Have I?"

She eyed him. "A little. We don't talk a lot. I was hoping Teyla could throw some light on the matter, but she's gone to the mainland... Do you know when she'll be back?"

His eyes narrowed. "You never wanted to talk to Teyla before."

"What? Since when?"

"Since before I arrived in the city."

Elizabeth was beginning to think that Ronon was just as crazy as all the rest. "Teyla doesn't live in the city?"

Ronon shrugged. "I think she did for a while, then you objected because she was apparently stealing Sheppard from you."

"She was... What? I never..." Elizabeth trailed off. Yes, she'd sometimes been a little envious of Teyla - it was hard not to be when the other woman wasn't just 'easy on the eyes' as the marines joked, but also more than capable of looking after herself - but not to the point of...

John wasn't even 'hers' to be jealous over in the first place!

This is ridiculous!

"So, she doesn't come into the city at all?"

"When we go out on a mission, someone flies out to the mainland to pick her up." Ronon seemed philosophical about it.

Elizabeth wondered about that. "Don't you miss her?"

He eyed her. "Why would I do that?"

"Because...aren't you friends?" Then Elizabeth realised that if John thought he was her lover, everyone believed she was the most wonderful thing since Christ, Ronon couldn't beat her in a basic fight, and she'd told Teyla to get out of Atlantis in a jealous fury, then it might be that Teyla and Ronon weren't friends either.

Ronon shrugged. "I have other friends in the city."

Still, Teyla had referenced some of the alienation she felt living in Atlantis, the only 'stranger' in the expedition. Elizabeth couldn't imagine it was easier for Ronon, especially without Teyla.

This place was all so wrong!

She only realised she'd said the words out loud when Ronon arched a brow at her. "You only just noticed?"

Elizabeth grimaced. "This only started happening in the last day..." Since the translation in the room. She rose to her feet. A flash of light and then...everything was different.

She'd read the SGC reports from beginning to end when the President first asked her to take over the SGC. It had taken her a month to read through seven years worth of reports and she'd studied the ones on SG-1 with particular care.

While on a mission through the Stargate, Daniel Jackson had inadvertantly ended up in a parallel universe where things were rather different to his own reality. For starters, Dr. Jackson had discovered he'd never opened the Stargate to Abydos in the first place. Sam Carter of SG-1 - then a Captain - had speculated that the mirror was made by the Ancients.

And Atlantis was the city of the Ancients.

They'd already heard of machines that could travel through time - as the elderly Elizabeth had told them, and the SGC had discovered. Why not rooms that could move one through parallel universes?

"Elizabeth?" She hadn't even known she was moving for the door until he spoke.

"I think I know what's happened."

--

"You look the same."

Ronon had followed her out of the gym, apparently intrigued by what she told him. Elizabeth wasn't sure he understood her rather frantic explanation, but he seemed willing to accept that she did and trust in that. He probably had to get used to that while working with Rodney.

"I think I'd have noticed if all this had been happening around me before."

"You don't lust after Sheppard?"

Reasonably safe in the knowledge that this wasn't her universe, Elizabeth tossed out a provocative answer. "I lust after you, sometimes."

The footsteps just behind her stopped. "Really?"

She glanced back at him, smiling. "You're an attractive man, Ronon." As are most of the men in the city. The observation about the men in Atlantis was Teyla's, given during a conversation between her and Elizabeth about romantic entanglements among the expedition personnel.

After the first surprise, he seemed more amused than anything else, continuing to follow her. "I don't see you crawling into my bed at night."

"The only bed I want to crawl into at night is my own," Elizabeth admitted.

After a long day of dealing with the people in the city, she didn't always have the energy to deal with a lover.

That had been one reason why she and Simon had been so well-suited. He hadn't pressed her, hadn't demanded more of her than she had to give at the end of a long and difficult tour, and when she was ready to be more affectionate than an arm around the waist and a few light kisses, he didn't mind too much when they forgot to turn off the stove and the dinner burned.

As they passed through one of the connecting corridors between wings, Elizabth reflected that it was odd she could joke about this with Ronon. She couldn't imagine having this conversation with any other man on the expedition - certainly not with such a teasing tenor. Even her conversation with John after Phoebus and Thalen had taken over their bodies had been careful and stilted, held in hushed voices in her office.

They'd agreed to ignore the episode and forget it - for the good of the expedition and their friendship. Attraction wasn't romance, and romance wasn't love - they were both mature adults, and there were other factors at play, too.

It wasn't all about them.

She and Ronon climbed the final set of stairs to the level where the room was situated, squashed in behind what had apparently been the storage space off a larger area - possibly another lab or workroom.

The doors hissed back at her touch, and she entered cautiously.

The automatic lighting came on, but the designs stayed dark.

Ronon remained at the door as Elizabeth moved to where she'd been standing before John entered. "They like writing all over their living spaces, don't they?"

"Satedan decoration wasn't this extensive?"

"Simpler. Much simpler." He eyed the symbols. "Don't they have a word for this on your world? Graffy? Graphics-tee?"

Elizabeth smiled as she scanned the text, trying to remember what she'd been reading before she fainted. "Graffiti. It's usually used more in terms of writing on the walls that shouldn't be there. But the original meaning of 'writing on a wall' fits."

She wasn't so fluent in Ancient as to be able to translate it on sight, but she remembered this section of the wall. "Doors of journeys...otherplaces...gone..."

"Cryptic."

A glance at him showed him leaning against the door, his arms folded across his chest as he studied the ceiling.

"The Ancients don't seem to have been the type for plain-speaking," Elizabeth said, turning back to scan the wall again. "But 'doors' and 'journeys' might apply here - 'otherplaces' certainly does..."

"Do you have to go back?"

Surprised at the question, she turned completely. Ronon was watching her with a hint of something like...affection? "I..." Her tongue wasn't working. "This isn't my universe."

He shrugged and looked back at the walls of the room, and something in his pose made it seem like he was embarrassed at what he'd suggested. "You're better company than she is."

"Really?"

"It's not hard. She's...different." There were probably a lot of adjectives Ronon could have used instead of 'different'.

"Maybe she just..." Elizabeth had been about to say 'Maybe she just needs someone who doesn't 'adore' her?' Unbidden, Grandpa Joe's words from 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' came to mind: 'She wants a good kick in the pants!'

Given how her counterpart seemed to behave, Elizabeth wasn't sure she could disagree.

"I'm sorry," she managed at last. "I want to go home."

His next words shook her. "So do I." Except that Sateda was a dead world, razed by the Wraith. Then he shook his head. "Never mind."

"Ronon." He glanced up, furtive, like a hunted creature caught. Odd to think of him as a lonely, wild creature tamed to the hand - but that was what came to mind. "Thank you."

A graceful shrug, an exhalation that might have been a sigh before he pointed at the floor. "You're standing in the middle of a design, you know."

Elizabeth looked down. These designs weren't the same as the Ancient writing on the walls. Instead of the letters, an oddly sinuous thread of signs and sigils wended its way into a circle just where she was standing. The circle was the only clear patch of floor in the room. "I think I might have been standing here when everything changed..."

Ronon watched her as she set her feet in the circle.

Nothing. Not a glimmer, not a twinkle, not a sparkle, not a flash.

"Maybe something's missing," he suggested.

Elizabeth looked at him. It needed John last time. She didn't really want to see him again - not this John - but it seemed he'd been the catalyst that got her here yesterday.

If you're wrong, then you're just going to have to endure him until you work it out.

Still, looking at Ronon, she tapped her earpiece on. "John?"

"Liz! Where are you? We were so worried when you walked out--"

"John, would you come up to the room where I was doing the translations yesterday? There's...there's something I want you to see."

"Something good?" Even Ronon grimaced slightly at the leer in John's voice. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"Something...interesting. And bring Carson."

"Carson?"

"Bring Carson." She switched off the earpiece before he could protest any more. If it was going to be like last time, then she - and her counterpart - were probably going to faint again. And if the reactions of the people here were any indication, Elizabeth-the-other was going to expect people to fuss over her - as much as Elizabeth had been dismayed by it.

Ronon smiled faintly. "Going home?"

She nodded. "Have they ever shown you 'The Wizard of Oz'? 'Lions and tigers and bears, oh my'?" One eyebrow rose in query, and she sighed. 'The Wizard of Oz' was one of the classic movies John insisted his team watch as a team bonding exercise. Of course, John's idea of 'classic movies' included Rocky, Rambo, and the Karate Kid. "Ask John to show it to you sometime."

There was the sound of footsteps running out in the corridor, and Ronon moved so he was just inside and to the side of the door, and not actually in the way of the new arrivals. One large hand tilted a somewhat jaunty salute at her, and she regretted his isolation - and Teyla's - in this place.

John almost skidded in the door, he was running so fast. And as he entered, the room responded to the gene in his blood. Blue-white spilled from the designs on the walls, brighter than the sun, piercing through her eyelids...

--

Whatever she was lying on wasn't cold, but it was rather hard. Elizabeth was just grateful it was flat.

"I think she's awake," came Carson's voice from above her.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes. Carson was kneeling next to her, watching her. "Elizabeth?"

"Carson?" Judging by his position, she guessed she was lying on the floor. And nobody was treating her like she was spun glass. That was a good sign.

She sat up, groaning a little and took inventory of the room. John, Rodney, and - yes! - Teyla were watching her. Rodney was muttering something to Dr. Mettyn, and John was standing very close to Teyla - almost as if he was hiding behind her.

And they were all looking at her with caution, like they were wondering what she was going to do next.

Elizabeth smiled as a wave of relief washed through her. "I'm home!" God, that was such a good feeling!

"I'd just like to say that if you're going to hug, kiss, or squeal in anyone's ear," said Rodney, turning away from Dr. Mettyn, "then you're definitely not home."

"Kiss in someone's ear?" Carson asked Rodney.

"Or whatever it was she did. Does. Did do. Or didn't." Rodney waved a hand in the air. "The other her, not her."

"I think you should quit while you're ahead, Rodney."

"Or even behind," Teyla added with spurious decorum.

Rodney scowled at his team-mates, and Elizabeth grinned. "Our language wasn't really structured to allow for the existance of parallel universes, was it?"

Something like a sigh of relief ran through the room. "I think she's okay," Carson said, smiling. "It's good to have you back, Elizabeth."

"It's good to be back," she said, climbing to her feet and dusting herself off. "Uh...was there much trouble with my...uh...counterpart?"

From the looks exchanged, she gathered there had. Still, they were tactful enough not to say exactly what in blunt terms.

"There were more than enough conflicts to keep us all occupied during her stay," Teyla said with what was probably admirable restraint.

"She didn't like Teyla much," Carson offered with an apologetic glance at Teyla.

"Or, 'at all,'" John said. "It was...noisy." The brief, tense smile he gave indicated that he'd suffered interaction with the other Elizabeth the same way she'd suffered interaction with the other John.

It would be a while before they were comfortable with each other again.

"So," Elizabeth said, "how long was I gone?"

"About a day," said Rodney. "One day too long. We were worried."

"About you," John added with a glare. "Once we realised she wasn't you. Not that it was hard."

Carson grimaced. "To tell you the truth, it was like having a teenager running around the place trying to control everything. I haven't had this much of a headache since Rodney was on the enzyme."

"Oh, ha-ha."

The stories would have to be saved for the debriefing. God only knew what the woman had done to Atlantis while Elizabeth was gone. She guessed that there would be some initial discomfort between her and John, and her and Teyla before they resumed their usual interactions.

This, too, shall pass.

She exhaled. First, deal with the issue at hand.

"I want this room closed and sealed off. It's to be studied only by people without the Ancient gene - either natural or artificial." Dr. Mettyn made a sound of protest, "I'm sorry, doctor," she said, "but if you get one of your assistants to videotape the walls, you can do a translation. I just don't want to risk anyone else. And would you put up a sign warning people not to stand in that circle while they're studying the room. What?"

The others were grinning, even Teyla.

"Yep," said John with evident satisfaction. "She's back."

--

The debriefing was educational.

Elizabeth explained most of what happened to her in the other universe, they explained most of what her counterpart had done in this one. And although some things went unmentioned, Elizabeth was only too aware that they'd happened - as were they.

She signed her name with a flourish, relieved that it came out as she expected.

"What kind of a name is 'Mary Sue Weir' anyway?" Rodney asked, handing her one of the documents her counterpart had signed.

"I think it's safe to say that it was her name," said John, curtly. His attitude towards the 'imposter' Elizabeth was very negative, but Elizabeth didn't ask why. She knew why.

It was the same reason Teyla hesitated when Elizabeth asked her to meet for dinner in the mess hall.

They were halfway into the inanities of dinner conversation when there was an appropriate lull. "I'm sorry about the other woman."

Teyla glanced up, her dark eyes limpid. "So was I," she said. "She is not you."

Elizabeth couldn't help asking, "And what she accused you of?"

This time, the hesitation was less marked, but still there. "It is not as she imagined it. We are friends." And that was as far as Teyla would say or Elizabeth would push. Any more was not her business beyond what she'd already spoken with John about - the fraternisation rules of the city.

They were in dessert before Teyla confessed, "The other Elizabeth...there were moments when I would have liked to slap her. She was a foolish, self-absorbed woman who only thought of love and romance and her own self-importance."

Harsh words from the usually very diplomatic Athosian. Of course, Elizabeth happened to agree. "I think it's a pity you didn't."

"Well," Teyla said, a slightly impish smile touching her lips, "perhaps I shall next time."

"God, no next times," Elizabeth groaned. "Once was more than enough!"

Teyla agreed. "It is good to have you back."

Later that evening, after she'd worked her way through most of the paperwork, Elizabeth found Ronon waiting for her in the gym.

"Why now?"

"I've had time to rethink my position," she said, meeting the penetrating, dark gaze. "I don't want to carry a weapon, but I think I might need to know how to defend my person in future."

Ronon eyed her a moment longer, then shrugged. "Okay."

At least he didn't ask why she hadn't requested the lessons from Teyla. Elizabeth wasn't sure she was up to explaining the reasons why.

As he showed her how to move against a larger, stronger attacker, Elizabeth followed his movements, trying to imitate the pose and shift of his weight. But when he actually did attack her, she was still caught off-guard.

She landed with a thud and a gasp. Not exactly painful, just...humiliating.

Ronon crouched down beside her. Not touching, not unduly anxious, just concerned. "You okay?"

In spite of her prone position, Elizabeth smiled.

Elizabeth Weir's in her city, all's right with the world.

"I'm fine, thank you, Ronon. Just fine."

- fin -

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Much as I love Elizabeth, I stopped reading the fanfic about her on account of Mary Sue Weir. (Stopped reading most fanfic, actually.)

The usual traits of a 'Mary Sue' (or self-insert) character - whether canon or not - is that she is impossibly beautiful, everyone is in love with her, has ZOMG SPESHUL ABILITIES that means she's more powerful/stronger/better than the characters who are most powerful/strong/experienced in canon, and gains the undying adoration and worship of the Hero of canon, who gives up his logic, commonsense, and personality (commonly replaced by the Fabio Personality mark 37.6) in order to get into her panties.

Dedicated to anyone who's read a 'St Lizzie' fic in Stargate Atlantis fandom and just wanted to retch.