Not that I've abandoned my other story, but I've had an idea I've really wanted to work on for a while and the plot bunnies forced me to write a chapter. As it's the first chapter there's not a lot of action because I wanted to give the story background, but please review and hopefully enjoy xx

Chapter 1:

"Well...crap..." Elizabeth continued to stare at the two blue lines which appeared to be staring straight back. In Elizabeth's opinion, this day couldn't get any worse and these two seemingly inconsequential little blue lines were the cherries on the icing of her cake of disaster after disaster. She was pregnant.

She sat the test down gently on her nightstand and walked up to her window to admire the beauty of Atlantis whilst trying to understand how her life had come to this...if only her mother could see her now. Though Elizabeth was raised by upper-class liberals who, for many, kept too many friends of unsavoury backgrounds and encouraged their daughter to strive for a career of her own far too much, the Weirs' Irish catholic background couldn't help but shine through on the issues of marriage, sex and babies (believing that those three subjects should follow in that exact order.) But even when it had emerged that Billy Chadwick had 'popped her cherry', as her mother had phrased, in her senior high school year, it was always assumed that someday, once their little Lizzie had had her fill of the international relations and political treaties, she would find some nice guy, move in with him, get engaged, get married and then get pregnant. That nice guy was Simon, but then the well-respected Dr. Weir got offered the chance of a lifetime: Atlantis. Simon simply couldn't compete.

For Atlantis, Elizabeth was willing to forgo marriage and babies. Sex, however, well, that was a little harder to give up. With life-sucking aliens and daily inter-galatical emergencies, one would assume there would be no time or need for sex, but, if anything, her constant work and frustrations only served to make her hornier and there are just some itches you can't scratch yourself properly no matter how hard you try. Mike Branton was a nice guy as was that chemist she went on a date with once and the marine she'd had a few flirtations with, but Elizabeth didn't need a 'nice guy', she needed a guy which was going to scratch her itch. "Pickings on Atlantis were slim", she said in complaint to John, during an unguarded moment over coffee in his rarely-used office.

"Pickings on Atlantis were slim..." Elizabeth mumbled to herself in remembrance and pinched the top of her nose; she could feel a headache coming on. Those five little words had led to those two little lines; John had given her a look – a look she was soon to become very used to – with such an open desire and want...and apparently for her. That day, he'd kissed her and she didn't stop him; they went from friends to friends 'with benefits' in an instant. It was fun and exciting and supposedly meaningless. Always in her quarters, John would leave straight after and they would act as if nothing had happened during the day. It was the perfect arrangement; Elizabeth got to get her release with someone she trusted and she found very attractive and John...well, she never was too sure what John profited from it. But then, somewhere along the line, things shifted. Sometimes they wouldn't have sex and just kiss and cuddle; John started actually sleeping over leaving just before the rest of the city woke up; they spent most of their free time together and ate almost every meal in each others' company as well. Without a conscious decision or acknowledgement made by either John or Elizabeth, they had somehow ended up dating.

Everyone else realised, of course. It was Atlantis; when you've only got the Die Hard movies, a couple of football games and When Harry Met Sally to watch, gossip soon becomes the main source of entertainment. But the gossip soon died down, as Elizabeth and John's work wasn't compromised and, if anything, the extra spring in the Colonel's step and Dr. Weir's obvious contentment generally improved everyone's mood.

...Until Rodney. A dog could've been born with more tact. "How's things with Katie?" She had queried over lunch with John's team whilst John was off training the new marines. He had nodded happily, if she remembered correctly. And then, without even thinking about it, he had casually asked back, "How's things with John?" How are things with John?! Elizabeth had been stunned and had to stop her jaw from dropping. People knew about her and John having sex. If Rodney was aware, then everyone must be. She looked from Rodney to Teyla, who had seemed as if she was going to hit McKay for putting his foot in it, to Ronan, who somehow had mastered curiosity and boredom in one facial expression. She proceeded to put her Dr. Weir mask in place and went to reply, "Well, I don't..." She stopped. She then looked hard at Rodney; he didn't look smug, but was trying to look friendly and interested. Rodney had tried to practise social etiquette; she had asked about Katie and, in an attempt to be polite, he had asked about John. The wheels in her mind sluggishly turned over; Rodney thought John was to Elizabeth what he was to Katie. Rodney, and therefore so must everyone, thought John was her boyfriend.

Elizabeth walked away from her window, took off her boots and lay down on her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she remembered how, after that lunch, she had made her excuses and left to think. Elizabeth turned over and groaned into her pillow, who was she kidding, she had made her excuses and left to completely and utterly freak out. Berating herself for being distracted for some flyboy, Elizabeth couldn't believe she had put both their careers, not to mention Atlantis, in jeopardy and resolved to end whatever it was they had immediately. The so-called Friends With Benefits scheme had been as stupid as it sounded and now it was up to her to stop themselves before they did something even more stupid such as falling in love with each other. However, whilst a tigress in the global negotiations, Elizabeth recognised she was a coward when relationships were concerned - exhibit A: the video she left for Simon – and cruelly didn't address the subject with John, but stopped spending her free-time with him and avoided intimacy. Not her finest moment, but John took the hint and stopped visiting her quarters. He started having 'liasions' off-world again and now, according to Laura Cadman, he was apparently dating Mindy, or Mandy she couldn't remember, who's a nurse on Beckett's team. It had stung, far more than Elizabeth had expected or would care to admit to, but she resolutely believed it had been for the best and things slowly returned to normal. Almost. John only spoke to her over work matters now, no long looks or accidental hand-brushing as before this whole mess had started, but Elizabeth had accepted that it was no less than she deserved. Getting knocked up, however, she questioned whether she deserved that.

2 months had gone by since she'd last slept with John; she hadn't even noticed she had missed her period and she put her nausea down to the aftertaste of dealing with the IOA. The IOA, she thought grimly, were going to just love this. She groaned again, the idea of explaining all this to Earth sent the room around her spinning; she sat up quickly and ran to the bathroom before empting the contents of her stomach into the toilet. How was she supposed to lead Atlantis with a baby, assuming, of course, she would even decide to keep the baby. All the choices and decisions ahead of her caused her to hurl again. If she wasn't being sick she probably would have laughed. Karma certainly had a sense of humour; she had her head in the loo whilst John was probably fucking Mandy/Mindy. It was Saturday night, after all. She activated the flush and tiredly rested her head back on the cool bathroom wall. Yes, she thought grimly once more, if only her mother could see her now.