Fic: Heir Apparent, Chapter 3

[melyanna]

I had a rather embarrassing moment last night when I was doing some research for a scene in this. It turns out that all the Nobel prizes except the peace prize are presented in Stockholm. The peace prize is awarded in Oslo. . . Norway, not Sweden. The previous chapters have been edited to reflect this. (And someday I'll learn to do all my research before writing instead of while writing.)


When they took off for Norway, the passenger manifest seemed to have grown a bit. Marcus had seen enough CNN to recognize C. J. Cregg, Donna Moss, and Josh Lyman when they and others joined them at the airport in Boston. He was actually just finishing up C. J.’s book. Ellie was already done with it.

It was a late flight, taking off in Boston at nine in the evening and landing in Oslo at eleven (local time) the next morning. Ellie was curled up in the chair next to Marcus, almost asleep. “You comfortable?” Marcus asked, nudging her with his elbow.

“Quite,” she replied, opening her eyes. “You know, when we met, I never would have guessed that you were this nerdy.”

He closed the book and smacked Ellie’s knee with it. “I’m a pilot,” he replied. “Of course I’m a nerd.”

“That’s not the public image.” She rubbed her knee. “But seriously, I wasn’t figuring on finding a geeky boyfriend in the military.”

“I don’t think anyone was counting on you getting a military boyfriend of any type,” he commented. “Remember the look on your dad’s face?”

“Oh, that was classic Dad,” Ellie said, laughing.

“Anyway, I have to keep up on all the bestsellers,” Marcus replied. “That way I know what Doctor Weir’s talking about when she tries to strike up conversation while we’re off-world negotiating for mineral rights or whatever.”

“Boy, does that sound familiar,” said Zoey Young, walking into the cabin.

“Mrs. Young,” Marcus said.

“Really, Marcus, you don’t have to call me that,” she replied. “Do you run around calling Elizabeth ‘Mrs. Sheppard’?”

“No, I call her Doctor Weir.”

Zoey sat down across from them. “Anyway, I know how you feel,” she said. “I took a class from her. It was brutal.”

“She tried to assign me an essay once.”

“She did not!” Ellie exclaimed.

“She did!” he replied. “It was totally surreal, and she was really embarrassed.”

“I’ll bet,” said Zoey.

Then Josh Lyman suddenly burst into the cabin. “There’s something really scary going on down there,” he said. “Women with a bottle of wine. . . Ellie, your Marine friend is kind of frightening.”

Ellie shrugged. “She has useful connections.”

“And Colonel,” Josh added, “President Bartlet’s asking for you.”

Marcus looked up at him. “Maybe that’s something you should have mentioned before stating the obvious about Cadman?”

“Obvious to you, less obvious to. . . others.”

Sighing, Marcus turned and kissed Ellie. “See you in a bit.”

He walked down the plane, past the room where he presumed the women Josh mentioned were having some wine, and into what appeared to be a bedroom. Jed Bartlet was saying, “Well, Matt, the truth is that no one’s been able to hold on to the top seat at the SGC for long since General Hammond left. And with Senate oversight, that’s probably not going to change anytime soon, unless you get someone really familiar with the political process.”

“I understand that,” said a voice over the speakerphone, and Marcus realized that Jed was talking with President Santos. “But someone with political prowess probably won’t have the kind of experience needed for this job, and this job needs stability too. And anyone who really wants the job is probably just looking for the publicity, and that’s certainly not the kind of person I want in that base.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Jed looked up at Marcus. “I have my daughter’s boyfriend from the Atlantis expedition in here with me. Marcus, you want to be in charge of the SGC for a few years?”

“I think I’d rather sit through Doctor Weir’s lectures on why I’m intelligent but shouldn’t be voting Republican, sir,” he remarked.

The two other men laughed. “Well,” Jed replied, “I’ll talk to Elizabeth about it, see if she’s got an opinion.”

“Speaking of Doctor Weir,” Santos said, “my staff is freaking out a bit over that op-ed.”

“I can imagine,” Jed said. “It’s not like you can censor or discredit her.”

“No, that wouldn’t play well,” Santos replied. “I think right now they just want her not to use her position for her own political aspirations. She tends to overshadow things. People start talking about her as President instead of the things I’m trying to do as the President right now.”

Marcus stiffened. He knew Doctor Weir had written something for a newspaper, but it hadn’t occurred to him that it was in some way political, nor something she would use to her own advantage. He’d always thought of her as a well-informed individual, but never as a politician. And he’d certainly never thought about her as President.

“Helen’s trying to get me off the phone,” Santos continued. “I’m sure we’ll talk about this more at your reception next week. Thank you for your time, sir.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended, and Jed looked up at Marcus sternly. “Voting Republican?”

“You campaigned saying you’d roll back Pentagon procurement, sir,” Marcus replied. “Forgive me, but do you know many people who’d vote to cut their own paychecks?”

“Democrats would, but we’re masochists.” Jed waved at a chair. “Have a seat. This isn’t the ‘what are your intentions toward my daughter’ chat, or even the ‘if you hurt my little girl’ chat. Ellie would kill me.”

“Plus I think we would have had either of those already,” Marcus said, sitting down. “Though there’s something to be said for doing it on a plane, where my chances of escape are greatly diminished.” He frowned. “Which chat is this, sir?”

“Just a chat. You can relax.”

“All due respect, sir,” Marcus said, “but I’m not entirely certain that’s possible. You were commander-in-chief for eight years of my career. Most of that was at the SGC, where my orders sometimes came from you. That’s. . . not something I can just turn off. You may not have the launch codes anymore, but a certain amount of decorum gets hammered into you during basic training.”

“Well,” Jed replied, “depending on what your intentions toward my daughter are, you may have to get over that, or else this is just going to be weird.”

“I thought we weren’t having that chat.”

“We’re not.” He sighed. “I don’t know. I just. . . Ellie’s letters aren’t always the most informative things in the world. I get that she’s happy, but not much else.”

“That’s about what I write home to my parents,” Marcus replied. “I mean, there’s stuff I can’t tell them, but even if I could tell them that I went to such-and-such planet and nearly got killed because I was protecting Doctor Weir, I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m already a long way from home,” Marcus said. “They know I’m in danger without me giving specifics. I’d rather tell them stories about getting stuck babysitting the Sheppard boys than depress them.”

“I worry about her sometimes, Marcus,” Jed replied. “Her sisters have always had their secrets, but Ellie’s never been very communicative with me.”

“Ellie likes what she does, sir,” said Marcus, surprised at the softness in the man’s voice. That wasn’t something he was used to seeing out of Jed Bartlet. “She loves her job for a lot of reasons. And I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“I just,” Jed began, opening his water bottle. “I just want to know what she’s up to.”

“Couldn’t you just ask her?” Marcus suspected the answer was no, given how rarely Ellie ever talked about her family.

“She’s never liked touting her accomplishments.” Jed took his seat again. “When she got a perfect score on the ACT, I practically had to pry the information out of her.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know.”

“It’s frustrating from my end,” Jed answered. “She’s always been closer to Abbey.”

“This may be awfully presumptuous of me,” Marcus said, “but she seems more like you than Mrs. Bartlet.”

“How do you figure that?”

Marcus shrugged. “She went into medicine, but she didn’t become a surgeon or a family physician or something. Research seems more your style than her mother’s. And she’s contemplative to a fault, which was always your public image. She’s cautious, but she’ll jump off the deep end if she feels she has to.”

Jed looked curious. “You seem to read people pretty well.”

“Ellie and I have been together for almost two years, sir,” said Marcus. “I’ve gotten to know her pretty well. I don’t think this would carry over to other people.”

“So what’s she jumped off the deep end for?”

“She delivered Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard’s son.”

Jed almost choked on his drink. “You’re kidding me.”

“No, sir,” Marcus replied, smiling. “I was there through all of it. There was a. . . confluence of events that led her, Kate, Cadman, and me being locked in with Doctor Weir when she went into labor. Ellie delivered the baby.”

“Little Josiah? The one who was flirting with my granddaughter?” Jed chuckled and got up slowly. “This is fun. What else have you got on her?”

“Uh, well, she did Doctor Weir’s job a couple days before we left Atlantis.”

“What happened?”

“You’d have to ask Cadman for details,” said Marcus. “Basically, Cadman and one of her sergeants got themselves in trouble and the locals were going to execute them. Ellie was there on a research trip, and even after the rest of Cadman’s team sent back to Atlantis for Doctor Weir, Ellie went and talked the locals out of it.”

“No kidding,” Jed replied. “I knew she’d probably saved a lot of lives in Atlantis, but I always assumed that was. . . you know, medically. She’s never liked having to talk under pressure.”

“Well, Cadman’s still alive and kicking, so I think she’s probably pretty good at it whether she likes it or not,” Marcus said. “The way Cadman tells it, Ellie had to argue pretty hard.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What, sir?”

“I just always thought Liz was the politician,” said Jed. “And she is, except she had to pay attention to learn how to play the game. I never thought Ellie. . .”

Marcus stayed quiet, having a feeling that that wouldn’t be the last time on this trip that he’d hear that phrase. Ellie loved her family dearly and it was obvious that they loved her too, but there was something very frustrating about the Bartlets. He knew he was biased, but Ellie seemed so much more intelligent than her sisters, and her quietness had resulted in her being overlooked so often.

That, however, was not a subject he wanted to broach with the head of the Bartlet family, so he was quite grateful when Abbey Bartlet opened the door. “Oh, hello, Marcus,” she said. “Jed, promise me you’re not threatening him.”

“We were just talking, Abbey,” he replied, standing up. Marcus stood up too. “Thanks for your time, son. You should probably get some sleep before we get to Oslo.”

“There’s one thing, though,” Marcus said. “President Santos said his staff thought that article that Doctor Weir wrote was for political advantage. But she’s not a politician.”

Both the Bartlets laughed. “She’s certainly got you fooled,” Abbey remarked before coming up to Marcus and kissing his cheek.

Jed dismissed him genially, leaving Marcus to feel a bit like a graduate assistant who had come into the faculty lounge to hear a joke that he didn’t know quite enough about to understand. It had been a long time since he hadn’t been in the loop when it came to Doctor Weir. He’d worked for her for years, and though she was his boss he considered her a friend. The idea that others had such a wildly dissimilar notion of her was vaguely unsettling.

Elizabeth, for her part, was not feeling very much like any previous incarnation of herself, whether it was leader, teacher, diplomat, or politician. If anything, she felt like all her jobs had joined together to ram into her headlong in the form of Josiah, not quite two years old. Peter, for as much as he was like John, was easier to discipline. Siah was too much like herself.

The standoff over sleep had ended with a victory for Mom and bedtime for Siah. Elizabeth had never imagined that negotiating with her son would be as trying as negotiating with Rwanda, for example, but she was feeling similar levels of exhaustion now. He was surprisingly verbal for his age, but unlike Peter, he’d not yet reached the point where he understood that events had reasons behind them, or that Mom ruled the world. At least where he was concerned.

Josiah had just fallen asleep when there was a light rap on the doorway and Marcus Lorne walked in. “Colonel,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“You look exhausted, ma’am,” he replied.

She nodded toward her son. “We did ten rounds on bedtime before he gave in to my superior. . . something.”

He sat down across from her with a smile on his face. “He snores?”

Elizabeth murmured an affirmative, not telling Marcus that Siah had gotten that trait from her. “I’m surprised you’re still up,” she commented, changing the subject.

“President Bartlet and I were having a chat.”

Amused, she asked, “Oh? Which chat was it?”

“Non-predatorial?” He sighed. “There’s something I’m missing with this family.”

Elizabeth stiffened, but decided to beat around the bush instead of asking directly what he wanted. “They telling you stories about the pirate?”

He looked curious, but got to the point, as she knew he would. “I meant something with the people here,” he clarified. “I’m not sure how to explain it. Drama, I guess.”

She raised a brow, shifting uncomfortably. “You want me to give up information on the Bartlets?”

“I’m hearing vague references about Liz and her ex-husband,” Marcus replied. “Zoey will talk with anyone, but doesn’t say much. And in the two years I’ve known Ellie, she’s never brought up her parents. The only time she talks about them is when someone else mentions them.”

She thought about twenty years of friendship with Jed Bartlet and wondered how much of that confidence she should share. But the truth was that if Marcus was really serious about Ellie, the information was for his own good, and it wasn’t like Ellie was likely to volunteer it.

“Liz left her husband after he embarrassed the family with a campaign for a House seat,” she began. “You might remember that he had an affair with the twenty-six-year-old nanny. But Liz married him when she was twenty-two and gave up a Rhodes scholarship. Zoey took every opportunity she could to sneak away from her Secret Service protection, and then her French prince boyfriend slipped ecstasy in her drink and she got kidnapped because she was too strung out to hit her panic button. Ellie was in elementary school when her father was elected to Congress. When he won his first Nobel, he spent half the evening bragging to King Gustav about how smart and talented Ellie was, but he wasn’t around much when she was in elementary school.”

“So,” Marcus said, “what are you trying to say?”

“That it’s complicated,” Elizabeth replied. “I’ve known Jed Bartlet for about two decades now, and I still don’t understand everything that goes on in his family.”

“That’s not very encouraging.”

“For a public figure, he’s an intensely private man,” Elizabeth explained, a very small smile on her face. “Ellie’s a lot like him, just. . . with less ego. He’s never intentionally involved any of his children in his career, and she’s never used her father’s position to advance her own career. She almost didn’t take the Atlantis job because of how it might look.”

“Well, I’m glad she got over that,” he remarked.

“So am I,” Elizabeth replied. “Just for different reasons.”

Marcus smiled at that. “What are your reasons? Not like you’re in the infirmary a lot.”

“Have you noticed that Ellie’s been going on a lot of off-world missions?” she asked. “A lot more than any other researcher on the expedition does. More than she has to.”

“She likes the work, even if it’s dangerous.”

“I think the incident with Cadman and Santana wasn’t the first time Ellie had exercised some talents that no one back here on Earth knew about.” Elizabeth pulled Siah further back in his chair where he was sleeping, as he had turned over and was dangerously close to falling off. “I was looking through some records while I was in Chicago. Statistics, mostly. That’s John’s area; he says it’s relaxing for him. He puts together these random trivia sheets for me. Anyway, there was one on the disc this time about who requires the most military or diplomatic intervention. He’s on the top of that list, of course. You’re somewhere in the middle, but Ellie’s dead last. Why do you suppose that is?”

“She takes care of problems before intervention is needed,” Marcus replied. Then his eyes widened. “You’re thinking about putting her in charge of Atlantis.”

Elizabeth gave him a small smile. “Thinking about it, yes,” she said. “I doubt she’s confirmable with the current Senate. Her father still has enemies in Washington.”

“Despite the fact that he’s accepting his second Nobel in a couple days?”

“Yes, despite that.” She sighed. “It’s a fickle business, politics. Mistakes and hatred long outlive success and love. Anyway, President Santos is likely to nominate someone outside the expedition to replace me when I go.”

“Why?” Marcus asked, looking rather confused. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to get someone who already knows the ropes?”

“If I’d been thinking four years ago about my eventual replacement,” she replied, “yes, it would have. But I wasn’t thinking about the fact that I was going to leave eventually. I was getting married, dealing with new threats in the Pegasus galaxy, trying to hold the expedition together while the House Stargate Operations Committee was trying to pull it apart. You remember what it was like. There wasn’t time to think about who was going to carry the torch after us. So there’s no one with the diplomatic skills in the expedition who can get through Senate confirmation hearings. In a couple years, Ellie can, but not now.”

Slowly, Marcus nodded. “Are you and Colonel Sheppard thinking about leaving Atlantis soon?”

Elizabeth hesitated, thinking about her conversation with Jed while she was writing the op-ed on the Geneva Convention. Above all else, he’d told her not to make these decisions without making sure John was on board. “We’ve talked about it,” she said slowly. In truth, she had a feeling that they’d be leaving Atlantis by the end of the following year.

“Are you running for President, ma’am?”

She smiled wryly. “It’s a possibility. But you should get some sleep.”

He got up to leave, but at the doorway he said, “If you did, ma’am, I’d think about voting for you.”

Elizabeth pulled a blanket out of a bin and settled back down in her seat. “Thank you, Colonel. That’s the most intelligent thing you’ve said in a long time.”

Oslo City Hall was a very modern building, with red brick and clean lines, though Marcus thought it looked a bit like the buildings his little brother made with blocks as a kid, before becoming a structural engineer. The inside, however, was nothing like his brother’s creations. They came into the main hall and found themselves surrounded by marble and murals of Viking life. Not far away from Marcus and Ellie, Ellie’s father was telling Donna and Josh about the Vikings. Josh looked like he wanted to run away.

Another passenger on the trip, Charlie Young’s sister Deanna, had volunteered to keep the kids at the hotel while the rest came here to run through the protocol for the award ceremony. Marcus didn’t envy her the task of looking after five children under the age of six. But the upside was that there wasn’t a pack of kids running around and screaming in the very loud hall.

“The reception for family and friends will take place in one of the smaller chambers,” a Norwegian woman was explaining. “A private event. No press allowed. The award ceremony will be in here that evening.”

Abbey was listening intently, but it seemed she was the only one. Even Ellie was spacing out a bit. Then a blonde naval officer whom Marcus didn’t recognize came up to Doctor Weir and quietly said, “Doctor Weir, I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced. Kate Harper. I was President Bartlet’s deputy National Security Advisor.”

“Admiral,” Elizabeth replied. “Haven’t seen you since. . . that thing, back then.”

“‘That thing, back then’?” Jed repeated. “Eloquent, Elizabeth.”

“Do you really want to have this argument again, sir?” she said, giving him a look that Marcus had only seen when she was angry with Sheppard.

“On second thought, no.”

Elizabeth turned her attention back to the admiral. “Do I ever get to find out what was really going on then, by the way?” she asked.

“Not unless your security clearance gets a lot higher,” Harper replied.

“Well, that’s reason enough to run for President. Quick, someone get Josh’s attention.”

“Ma’am, what are you talking about?” Marcus asked.

“I’d tell you, but Admiral Harper here would have to kill you.”

“Seriously?” Ellie said.

“Ladies, gentlemen, please,” said their Norwegian guide. “Now, if you’ll follow me?”

As the group walked off, Ellie said to Marcus, “So what do you think, she had a stint with the CIA at the end of the Cold War?”

“That, or a torrid affair with the admiral in Uruguay.”

At that, Weir and Harper looked over their shoulders and glared.

They spent the rest of the day as official guests of Norwegian government. There were hands to shake and protocol to review, so it was a pretty busy day. That evening, after they’d settled in at the hotel, Marcus took Ellie to dinner alone, figuring that he owed her at least one real date while they were on Earth, even if they were being watched by Secret Service agents.

“This was a good idea,” she said as dessert was served. “Good to have the space.”

“Good to get out of the entourage, you mean?” Marcus replied, and she smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Now if I can just talk you into declining Secret Service protection.”

“My father would be very unhappy if I did that,” Ellie said, holding her hand out to him. He squeezed her fingers. “And in a couple years it’ll be over. They don’t keep agents on family members forever.”

Someone ambled up to the table, and Marcus looked up to see Josh Lyman hovering. “Ellie, hi,” the man said.

“Hello, Josh,” Ellie replied, quickly masking a look of irritation. “How are you doing these days?”

“Eh, you know,” he said. “They say having kids keeps you young, but nobody’s told my hairline that.” He turned his attention to Marcus. “I don’t think we were really introduced before. I’m Josh Lyman.”

“Marcus Lorne.”

“Of the Atlantis expedition,” Josh filled in.

Donna Moss walked up behind him and laid her hand on his arm. “Josh,” she said, “please tell me you can add two and two together and get four.”

Josh looked confused for a moment and then jumped slightly. “Candles, wine, handholding,” he said. “You two are on a date. I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“We’re still working on integrating him back into society,” Donna explained. “It’s not an easy task.”

“Well, listen,” he said, “I’d love to talk to you two for real before all’s said and done.”

“Josh.”

“Coming, dear.”

Ellie laughed softly as the pair retreated. “He’s odder than he seems on television,” Marcus remarked.

“I don’t know. He comes off as pretty eccentric when he’s on TV.” Ellie’s smile faded a little. “Hey, what did Dad want from you last night?”

“He just wanted to talk. I think he may tell you he hates me on principle.”

“Why?”

“Because I tend to vote Republican.”

“Wow,” Ellie said, taking a bite of her dessert. “Not many people argue politics with my dad anymore. He tends to steamroll people.”

“I wouldn’t say we talked politics,” he replied. “It was more like something being said about Doctor Weir running for President someday. I got laughed at when I said she didn’t strike me as a politician.”

She snickered. “As well you should,” she said. “What do you think a diplomat is, if not a politician? Dad met Elizabeth when she was lobbying for an anti-military group.”

“So you think she’s going to be President someday?” Marcus asked, feeling somewhat annoyed for having been so out of the loop on this.

“My father thinks so,” Ellie replied. “And he’s usually right about this kind of thing.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “I’ve wondered since Josiah was born if she and John were thinking about leaving Atlantis sometime in the near future. President Santos probably would have made her Secretary of State if she’d come back after Vinick’s retirement. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was serious talk of it. And I know the party’s wanted her to run for something ever since the disclosure.”

Marcus shook his head. “I thought you didn’t like politics.”

“When your family makes its living baking bread, you learn how to bake bread whether you like it or not,” she said. “Besides, if you think science hasn’t been as politicized as the military, you’re out of your mind.”

He tapped her foot. “Yes, Ellie, I have a basic understanding of the political process.”

“You’re one of the only ones in Atlantis who does,” she replied. “I wonder who Elizabeth’s got in mind as her replacement.”

“Hmm?”

“Elizabeth wouldn’t think about leaving the expedition without considering who would replace her,” Ellie said. “And I can’t really think of anyone within the expedition with the experience to do her job.”

Marcus thought for a moment about telling her about his conversation with Doctor Weir, but decided against it. There were times when she relied on his discretion, and he suspected this was one of them. If Ellie needed to know, Doctor Weir would take care of it herself. Even though it involved Ellie, it wasn’t strictly his business to repeat.

He decided on neutrality. “I’m sure she has someone in mind.”