"You'll like it," John insisted as he started to pout on the corner of her desk. "Negotiations, space battles, intrigue, romance..." He grinned wickedly and patted the pocket of his jacket. "Chocolate--"

Elizabeth stopped working on her weekly report to Earth and starred directly at him. "Chocolate?"

John pulled the edge of the bar just out enough for her to see the wrapper and grinned. "Got it from the Daedalus just this morning. Along with th next set of DVDs."

Sighing softly as she looked at the pile of data pads and computers on her desk, Elizabeth shook her head pathetically. "I'm behind on everything. I still have to explain to command that I passed out when the city was in crisis."

"Fainted!" Rodney piped up from the edge of the bridge to her office. "I mean, you could use 'passed out' but when General O'Neill reads your report, you'll sound more pathetic if you use 'fainted'."

"I'll sound like Scarlett O'Hara," Elizabeth murmured under her breath to John as he grinned.

"I'll carry you out of here," he said suddenly shocking her almost out of her chair. John stood and sized her up. "You're not heavy." He circled the desk and stared at her predatorially.

As he stared over her shoulder, Elizabeth realized that might be a serious threat. "I need to work," she protested feebly."

"You need a day off," John corrected as he turned her chair and brought her dangerously close to him. "You needed one before you went all 'Gone With the Wind' on me." His eyes were twinkling but he was serious.

Elizabeth felt his hands on the arms of her chair and he was so close she could smell him. How anyone managed to get cologne that smelled like that on Atlantis was beyond her.

"You certainly haven't had one since then. Come on," John insisted as he touched her hand. Something electric thrilled up her arm. "It's the miniseries, you can start it at the beginning with us. Teyla makes popcorn, Ronon brings beer. Rodney behaves if you put him in the back of the room."

"John--" she protested weekly.

Strong hands grabbed the sides of her chest and she was suddenly on her feet.

"Don't kick me," he warned as he moved to lift her up.

"John?" she started surprised.

"It's Battlestar Galactica," he informed her smoothly. "And you have to see it."

Elizabeth was between Teyla and John when John started the DVD he'd been clutching like a precious thing. Being next to Teyla put her next to the popcorn and a few handfuls of that later, Ronon was passing her a beer.

Five minutes in she was confused.

Ten minutes in she was enthralled.

By the time Laura Roslin broke down in the bathroom, Elizabeth was destroyed.

She didn't watch television. She'd only watched "Princess Bride" late one night with John because he'd just returned from certain death and neither of them could sleep. She was here because he'd asked her. Because he'd touched her, her mind corrected. John's hands had been on her ribs and she'd liked it. His lips had been close enough to touch and she'd thought about them making contact.

She'd gone home to her quarters at oh-two-hundred, slightly tipsy and nearly humming the theme music. Fifty thousand people in search of Earth was somehow the most comforting thing she'd ever watched. It was about family, home and building trust in a world that was disentegrating around them.

Laura Roslin's voice was in her head when she fell gratefully into bed.

"We have to start making babies," Laura told the Commander with a gleam in her eye.

Elizabeth's slightly inebriated brain liked the idea of making babies with a certain colonel under her command and provided her with an explicit dream regarding that very concept.

They flew through season one. Ronon stopped talking during the episodes after the miniseries and now he threatened Rodney whenever the scientist chewed too loudly. Elizabeth watched as Commander Adama through the president into prison and whispered to John that he shouldn't be getting any ideas.

He smirked knowingly. It was an evil smirk, considering he'd seen the series already and knew exactly how it would end the season.

When Boomer drew her gun and fired into the commander's chest, Elizabeth jolted with the shots. The commander bled out with his son in cuffs in front of him and the technician holding his hand in prayer.

Laura was in prison. Laura didn't even know.

Elizabeth was nearly shaking when John flipped on the lights. "See you all tomorrow?" he asked as Rodney moaned about an early meeting and simultaneously began to beg to be aloud to watch the rest.

Teyla and Ronon started to talk, consoling Rodney that it was going to be all right. Elizabeth licked her lips but was unable to speak. She lifted her beer and downed the entire glass. She was filling it again when John touched her hand.

"You okay?"

"Little close to home," Elizabeth murmured as she attacked her beer. She didn't usually drink but she wanted the bitterness in her throat. She wanted to know that it was going to be okay. That the commander would walk into the jail and apologize for what he would put the president through. The dying president, her mind screamed in dismay.

"Just wait until third season," John teased and touched her shoulder.

Michael was making alien monsters and she was sitting in John's room, on his bed, glued to the projection screen. She wasn't typing up her report or trying to decide what to say to the IOA; Elizabeth was watching a woman die. Laura Roslin's voice had become scratchy. She was in a desperate situation, stuck between the terrible Admiral Cain and her own ideals.

Mary McDonnell deserved a fraking Oscar, or whatever it was that actors got for television.

Somewhere before the kiss, John had taken her hand. Elizabeth only knew it because when the commander kissed Laura, she'd squeezed his hand so tightly he'd turned to her and grinned. He knew. He knew it was coming and on some level, he knew what it meant to her.

They starting watching season three in the infirmary. Her head pounded when she moved more than a centimeter, but John's hand was there on her arm every night when he left command. He'd tease her, insist it was better than cancer and squeeze her arm when he went to bed. It didn't matter how tired, how exhausted he was from his mission, for three weeks he was there every single night.

When "to be continued" hung on the screen she was finally back in her own room. John had started calling Colonel Carter, 'Baltar' behind her back, and the nickname was sticking. Rodney had wondered who Carter's number six was and John explained Ronon had laughed so hard through the next communique from General O'Neill that he had to leave the room.

"Admit it," John teased as he brought her a hot cup of tea and sat on the floor by her bed. "You have a serious crush on the good Admiral."

Elizabeth laughed and took a sip. Smiling through the steam, she winked at him. "The younger Adama's better looking," she teased playfully. "Especially with that towel."

John raised his eyebrows but kept smiling. "You don't watch him though, not when his dad's onscreen."

"He's a good man, Admiral Adama," Elizabeth allowed as John took her tea from her hands. "He brings his people home."

Something was incredibly soft in John's eyes as he set her tea aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "I like the president's legs," he admitted with quiet seriousness that made her laugh too hard.

Her broken ribs sent waves of pain through her chest, but she kept laughing. "I thought Six was more your type."

John stole her tea and took a sip. He ran his thumb over the edge and Elizabeth realized their lips had touched the same place. "I like brunettes," he explained softly.

"Sharon?" Elizabeth teased and followed the cup with her eyes. "Isn't Laura a little old for you?"

"Grace Park is hot," John admitted shamelessly grinning at her. "But the president giggles. She has the weight of the world on her shoulders and she can giggle." He put his hands together and leaned forward over his knees. "I'm a soldier. I walk out there with my rifle and stare down the bad guys. I don't think I could come home to someone who had to put her gun next to mine. Roslin? Laura," he corrected. "She's never had a gun. She's never touched one. She knew she belonged in charge and she let go when she was replaced by someone else."

He turned back to her and Elizabeth couldn't drag her eyes from his face. "And she giggles."

Elizabeth struggled and managed to sit up on her own. John's hands were there immediately, steadying her on the pillow. "I don't giggle," she murmured when his lips were centimeters from hers.

"You could," John insisted as his chest brushed her breasts through her thin t-shirt. "I think you have once or twice."

"She only giggles because he's there," Elizabeth explained as she felt his arm tighten beneath his hand. "She couldn't, not without the Admiral."

"Think they did it on the planet?" John teased playfully breaking the tension between them.

Elizabeth erupted into laughter and as John pointed out she was giggling, she only laughed harder.

"Teyla does, Ronon said he'd have done her, if he was there," John explained with a wink. "Rodney was stuck on Starbuck being naked."

"Ronon said he'd 'do her'?" Elizabeth stammered through her fit of giggles. "Do her?"

"Marine slang," John said shaking his head sadly. "He's getting corrupted."

"Would you?" she wondered as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"I'd never say 'do her'," John corrected indignantly.

"John--"

"Stars? Intoxication? One night where neither of them had any responsibilities?" he studied her face and smiled softly. "What do you think?"

"I think she fraked his brains out."