AUTHOR'S NOTES: This fic is short and dark and very much AU. It was written for the LJ community 'sgaflashfic' during their 'Slave' challenge. The reference was made in the second inversion, but I wrote all three to balance things out.

Inversion I

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"Not another interruption," Rodney snaps.

She hesitates at the door, tension all through her shoulders. The man leaning in the doorway beyond the scientist shakes his head ever so slightly, hazel eyes flashing in warning. Now is not a good time.

Now is the only time.

Elizabeth Weir reminds herself that she's a diplomat, that she's accustomed to suspicion, distrust, resentment of her presence. Somehow, it doesn't seem to count for much, now that they're partway across the universe in a galaxy far from home.

She reminds herself that she's the leader of this expedition, that General O'Neill gave authority to her.

She forgot that she was accustomed to acceding to Rodney's demands and pressures. He has a way about him and she has a habit about her; it's easier to give in than to fight. She's always had to fight the men in her life, from her father to her colleagues to Simon.

She's tired of fighting.

"The Gennii aren't going to trade with us."

"And why do you think that is?"

The question is pointed - and a trap. He doesn't ask for opinions; he states the way things are and will not be moved from them. "Because they don't think we're offering them enough to make it worth the exchange."

"We're not going to offer them any more than that," Rodney says brusquely. "We haven't got the supplies as it is."

She's tempted to snap back at him that she knows perfectly well that they don't have the supplies. As the leader of this expedition - however nominal - she keeps track of what they have and what they don't. She knows their situation as well as he does - if not better.

But she doesn't.

"We're going to need food supplies sooner or later."

"But not at the cost of our technology," he says, his fingers still moving over the keys of his laptop.

"Rodney," she puts all her entreaty into his name, hoping that he'll listen long enough for her to get her message through. He looks up, and again she is startled by the blueness of his eyes. He is not handsome, but he has a charisma of a kind - and for him, it is enough. "There isn't any point in having the technology if we don't have anything to eat."

He glares at her. "Then find someone who will trade with us!"

"It's not that simple!"

"It is that simple! You're making things difficult for yourself, Elizabeth. And you're interrupting me." He glances at the man still watching from the other doorway, the young features impassive. "Sheppard, go and work something out with her, will you? I don't have time for this."

And that simply, she is dismissed.

Bitterness rises in her mouth, and her words are acid as Major Sheppard 'ushers' her from the doctor's presence. "Work something out with me?" She's never asked how Rodney controls the military on this project; she only knows that Colonel Sumner's death was an unexpected blessing to him.

The smile he gives her is brief and thin. "You should be grateful. He didn't say I should work something out on you."

Delicate as a butterfly's wings, but sharp-edged as a precision scalpel, his words slice into her.

She holds back a shudder as his breath traces the curls over her ear.

She keeps walking.

oOo