Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters most likely belong to Stargate: Atlantis, and therefore do no belong to me. On the upside, Dr. Nicole Henley and Dr. Tom Merrick are of my own creation, so they actually are mine…

Spoilers: None.

A/N: Thanks to a wonderful snow storm, I had some free time on my hands on Valentine's Day, and here's the product of my slacking. Think of it as a sort of belated V-day prezzie...besides, everyone knows that the day after Valentine's day is the best day of the year--discount chocolate! So go out and enjoy the cheap candy and hope you enjoy the fic!

- - -

Hullabaloo

- - -

"Stop worrying about it. You'll be fine."

"Says you. You don't have to face her," Dr. Nicole Henley grumbled as she gently placed the prepared slide under the scope. "I not only have to sit in front of her and answer the many questions she'll no doubt ask, but I have to deal with the consequences too."

Her friend smirked at her from across the table. "Look on the bright side, Nikki. You might be able to get a room with a view this time."

Nicole squinted into the lens, slowly turning the knobs at the side to adjust the focus. "Knowing my luck, I'll end up in Section D. You know, I don't think poor Tom has gotten a wink of sleep in the last three days. He keeps falling asleep on his lab book and ends up having to rewrite his work because of the drool stains."

"Can't say I envy him. You, on the other hand, should relax a little. Just use the excuse that you want a room in that new section they opened up because of the ocean front view, and you shouldn't have a problem."

"Somehow," Nicole lamented, frowning as the focus became even blurrier, "I don't think it will be that easy."

"Dr. Henley, please report to my office," the expedition leader's voice suddenly crackled over the radio.

"Can you take over with these samples? I might be a while." With a battered sigh, she slid off of her chair and gathered up the sheaf of papers by the microscope, absently pushing back the wayward blonde curls that had fallen out of her ponytail as she turned to leave.

The other scientist went over to her abandoned microscope and sent her an encouraging smile. "Good luck."

Shaking her head, she made her way to the lab door, squaring her shoulders in an effort to boost her lowering morale. "I'm going to need it."

- - -

Nicole slowed as she reached the entrance to the office, valiantly trying to steady her nerves. You can do this, she sternly reminded herself. You are a mature, thirty year old woman with a master's in microbiology and her doctorate in epidemiology. You have nothing to fear.

Dr. Weir's head lifted from the file in her hand, and a welcoming smile spread across the leader's face. "Dr. Henley, please, come in. Have a seat."

"Thank you." She took her seat quickly, sitting on the edge of the chair and flashing a returning smile that she was certain looked as awkward as she felt.

There was a pause, a moment of silence that only contributed to fueling her taut nerves. As Nicole took a few steadying breaths, her boss' boss mercifully decided to break the uneasy quiet.

"Well, what can I do for you today?"

The question was devoid of any suspicion, and the way Dr. Weir leant forward only made her more approachable, yet Nicole still felt her gut twist as she reflexively clutched the papers in her arms.

"I know I've only been here two months, and I don't want to cause too many problems, but I uh…I need a room transfer."

There. She said it. Luckily her hands shook only by a fraction as she handed over the forms that she had so painstakingly filled out, betraying nothing of the fear of what was to come that she felt creeping up on her.

Dr. Weir perused the forms carefully, and Nicole scrutinized her just as readily, watching for any sign that something might be amiss. The leader's eyes reached the bottom of the form, and her lips pursed, and Nicole knew exactly what was coming next.

"You've cited 'noise' as the reason for a transfer."

"Yes," Nicole replied slowly, her dread escalating. "Yes, I did."

"May I ask why?"

Nicole gulped as she felt the blood rush to her face. Damning her infernally fair complexion, she nervously drummed her fingers against her leg as she scrambled for a quick, easy lie.

Obviously sensing her discomfort, Dr. Weir continued on. "I only ask because you're the third person I've had in here in the last eight months asking for a transfer from this particular room. And each has stated simply that 'noise' was the reason they needed a transfer." A small smile graced the leader's lips. "As a fellow resident of Section B, and your neighbor, I can't say that I've ever been disturbed by any odd noises. Then again," she laughed, "I don't get much sleep anyway."

Without using a single brain cell, Nicole replied, "I know."

Oh…God. What have I done

The scientist quickly bit her lip to keep from spewing any more unnecessary comments. Mentally berating herself for her idiocy, she sat in silence, her cheeks flushing an even brighter shade of crimson.

Dr. Weir studied her for a moment as her smile faded, and then one eyebrow casually rose in question. "May I ask, Dr. Henley, what exactly that is supposed to mean?"

Nicole knew she should have said something complimentary, like 'Well, you work so hard, I know you don't get to sleep much' or maybe something humorous—'It is hard to sleep when you have people like Dr. McKay running around'—but such replies died on her lips. She couldn't lie to the expedition leader. And Dr. Weir was watching her with enough care that it seemed as though any lie she did tell would be as see-through as air.

There was only one route left to take. Steeling herself for the certain embarrassment that was bound to arise, she looked down to her lap, clasping and unclasping her hands as she stumbled forward in her pathetic attempt to tell the cold, hard truth.

"Well…you see…it's just that…the walls…well, those walls aren't exactly…"

"Aren't exactly what?" Dr. Weir prompted none too lightly.

Nicole took a deep breath, clasped her hands firmly together, and looked back up to the woman currently watching her with an eagle eye. "Those walls aren't soundproof."

A slight blush began to tinge Dr. Weir's pale skin as she slowly sat back in her chair. Nicole plundered on, with the reasoning that if she told the whole truth now, she'd be saving some other poor newcomer from the same problem, and that at least was somewhat redeeming. Besides, she had a feeling that the other woman might appreciate the hint—if positions were reversed, Nicole was sure she would want a nicely articulated warning from a confidant rather than to overhear someone's lewd comments later on.

"It's not like it's a bad thing—well, okay, so it's not the greatest thing in the world to hear—but you and him…well, from what I've heard from some, you're more discreet than others in this city. But there are times when it gets a little, uh rowdy I guess, and sometimes I've had a long day the next day, and I really want to sleep, but it's just hard sometimes, you know? Not that I'm condemning you for it at all, or anything like that. Heck, who wouldn't want to make noise with a man like that? It's just that it's hard to block out, and Dr. Beckett ran out of ear plugs a month ago, and the Daedelus isn't coming back for another good few weeks, so please understand, I just want to sleep more than three nights a week. That's all."

It took some effort, but Nicole managed to stop her mouth from moving any more as she struggled to get herself out of the hole she had been digging as she talked. Her cheeks felt like they were nicely charred, and her palms had turned sweaty, but she was somewhat chastened to notice that Dr. Weir's face was a nice, bright, shiny red too.

The two women regarded each other for a brief moment. Nicole was surprised to realize that she felt a heck of a lot better after her little spiel. Her grandmother had been right after all—telling the truth really was the best solution to any problem.

Despite the plaintive embarrassment that was written clearly across her face, Nicole was amazed at Dr. Weir's calm manner as she pulled a few papers out of her desk drawer and began writing. A lesser woman would have told her off for being so forward, or ordered her out of her sight. Dr. Weir, on the other hand, merely filled out sections on each of the papers in front of her, then shifted them together and handed them to Nicole.

"Here you go: transfer papers to Section F—the new section that just opened up for use. When you get down there, give these to Major Lorne. He'll answer any questions you have. I…" Her cheeks, if possible, brightened further and she discreetly cleared her throat. "I gave you first choice on the rooms as a…consolation for your troubles."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir," Nicole said feelingly, smiling apologetically as she took the offered papers. "I'm sorry, for the way it all came out. I wanted to be more diplomatic about it."

Dr. Weir's only response was a tight, self-conscious smile and a small nod. Taking that as her cue to depart, Nicole got up from her seat and escaped the close confines of the office as fast as she could without hitting an all-out run.

She breathed a sigh of relief once the glass walls of Dr. Weir's office were well behind her. That hadn't gone half as badly as she had predicted. And her lingering discomfort was easing rapidly as she realized that not only would she get a choice of rooms, but she'd also get to spend a good long while in the company of the attractive Major Lorne.

Now there, she thought with an inward, wicked grin, was a man she wouldn't mind making noise with…

- - -

Elizabeth watched the blonde scientist weave her way through the control room, absently drumming her fingers against her desk as she contemplated what in the hell she was going to do. As mortifying as it was, Dr. Henley's explanation did clarify why her last two neighbors had left so abruptly—and why neither of them had ever been able to really look her in the eye.

She frowned, staring off into space as she contemplated how to deal with this unexpected situation. So lost was she in her thoughts that she didn't hear the side door slide open, nor the footsteps that followed.

"Enjoying the view, or pining away for yours truly?"

The intruder's voice shook her from her reverie, and she flashed him a brief smile.

"Just thinking," she replied, running a hand across her neck to ease the tense muscles. "Shouldn't you be in a Jumper right about now?"

John shrugged, swaggering over to the desk and leaning against the side closest to her, his leg nearly brushing the edge of her chair. "Rodney needed more time to get all of his doodads together. It's not like we're in a hurry—the mainland isn't going anywhere." His gaze focused on hers, and his smile fell. "Something bothering you?"

She pursed her lips, glancing away for a moment before flicking her eyes back up to meet his questioning green ones. "My next door neighbor just requested a room transfer."

"Which one? That cute blonde scientist?" Elizabeth's gaze narrowed. "Not that I'm looking or anything," he defended himself, unable to keep the all too friendly gleam from his eyes. "You know that the only kind of woman who lights my fires is the brown-haired, green-eyed one sitting right in front of me."

She rolled her eyes as his head had dropped a fraction lower. With a firm shake of her head, she stopped him short, knowing perfectly well what he was aiming for. "Do you know why Dr. Henley wanted a transfer?"

"No clue," John replied airily, her warning plainly ignored as he inched closer, a clear intent in his eyes.

"She wanted a transfer because we're noisy."

That stopped him short and the lascivious look in his eyes changed quickly to a stunned glaze. "What?"

"We're noisy," Elizabeth repeated, and watched as the exact meaning of her words sunk in.

"We? As in you and me?" John asked carefully, his eyes widening, as his thoughts no doubt ran over certain key memories of their last year and a half together.

She nodded. "As in you and me. Apparently, those soundproofed walls Rodney and Radek were raving about weren't installed in my quarters."

John frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, they're probably there. I remember Zelenka talking about them a while back—he said that some rooms need someone to manually activate the sound dampening properties. Maybe you could ask him to check it out when he gets back from the mission."

"And tell him what? That our lovemaking causes so much noise that I've already driven away three different people from the next room?" She hissed under her breath, quickly flicking a glance over to the control room, checking for any potential eavesdroppers. "Our relationship may be the worst-kept secret of Atlantis, but at least half of it is speculation."

"Is it? If your neighbors have been listening to us for the last eight months, then they've probably whined about it to someone," John succinctly pointed out. "And we know how fast things like that can spread around this city."

Elizabeth felt the blush return to her cheeks, and mentally cursed her fair-skinned genealogy. Shaking her head in frustration at the whole embarrassing situation in general, she looked to her desk. "Great. That really helps to ease my worries over the fact that the entire city knows about us."

"Look at it this way. They've known about us for eight months, and nothing major's come out of it. No one's complaining, or writing angry letters to the SGC, or putting dirty messages on the bathroom walls." John smiled, reached down and gently grabbed her hand. "Maybe this proves that what we've got isn't such a bad thing after all."

"I never thought it was a bad thing," she relented with a sigh, tightening her hold on his hand in response. "I just didn't know if others would see it the same way we did."

"Apparently they did, so stop worrying," he advised ever so wisely. "When Zelenka gets back, ask him to take a look at your walls. Use some half-assed excuse—he'll fall for almost anything. Until then, you and I can keep my neighbors awake all night."

A hesitant smile broke out across her lips, and she met his gaze once more. "Go to the mainland. When you get back, we'll figure something out."

"Yes ma'am." He winked, squeezed her hand one last time, then strode casually out of her office, whistling a slightly off-key tune.

Still smiling, Elizabeth turned back to gazing across the desk surface. She didn't have any time to lose herself in her thoughts though, because a new intruder entered from the main entrance, a hesitant look on his face.

"Dr. Weir, is this a bad time?"

Biting back a sigh, she gestured to the seat across from her. "No, no it's not. What can I do for you, Dr. Merrick?"

Tom Merrick handed over a few creased papers before sitting down. "Sorry to dump this on you so suddenly, but I can't take it any longer and I heard you were opening up a new section…"

He trailed off, but she could see where this was going. God help her, she knew exactly where this was going.

"And?"

"And I need a room transfer."

She took the pro-offered papers and her eyes instantly found the line that she was looking for. The apprehension she had been feeling diminished just as quickly when she noticed that he was requesting transfer from Section D and not B. At least it's not because of me this time.

Elizabeth read over the rest of the details with hidden relief—that is, until she came across the last section. As she read over this last box, her eyes stopped in their study and closed momentarily in disbelief before she looked back up at the scientist.

"Would you like to explain this?" She asked, mindfully keeping her tone neutral, shifting the paper over the desk's metallic surface and pointing to the last few words.

Tom shrugged sheepishly, his smile abashed as he explained his reason for transfer. "See, I live next to Teyla. Not that it's a problem in itself—she's a nice person and all. But ever since she and that Ronon guy hooked up…uh…now how can I say this? Well, you see, Dr. Weir, they're kind of loud…"

- - -

end