Under the Ice
by Bil!

K+ - General, Action/Adventure
Summary: AU. Antarctica is fun! Snow, ice, cold, secret alien bases... What's not to like? A pre-Atlantis adventure for John and Elizabeth, set before Rising. John&Elizabeth friendship.
Season: pre-one.
Spoilers: Minor for Rising. General for SG-1.
Disclaimer: Soooo not mine. And not my fault that the characters have taken over my brain.

A/N: I don't know if the Antarctic base where they're studying the Ancient outpost ever had a real name in the show, but I've called it Gateway. On account of I needed to call it something. And what little science there is in this story is made up, so not accurate.

Story note: This will be a short novella of three chapters and about fifteen thousand words.

Chapter One – I Think Ice Is Rather Nice

The helicopter landed in a flurry of snow despite their earlier efforts to clean up the Gateway landing site. Elizabeth looked away, shielding her face, while the rotors wound down to a lower speed. She peered over her arm as the wind lessened, and shook the snow from her hair. The pilot waved her over and she pulled her jacket closer against the wind and hurried to the passenger door.

She was handed a headset as she sat down and put it on, nudging the muffs into a more comfortable position with her shoulder while she reached for the seat straps, adept now at settling into a helicopter after these months of Antarctic living.

"There's not quite enough of you to be three people," the pilot's voice crackled over her headset.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Doctor McKay made a discovery he is adamant needs to be explored right now and Peter – Doctor Grodin – got roped in. That just leaves me for McMurdo."

The pilot's helmeted head turned towards her. "This is why I don't work with scientists," he said with amusement. "So, you not important enough to get roped in, Doc, or you too important?"

She paused in doing up the buckles to frown at him. "Have we met?"

"No, ma'am," he replied immediately. "I'm pretty sure I would remember that, ma'am."

She frowned at him suspiciously; it was hard to tell under the helmet and sunglasses, but she didn't think he was flirting with her. "Then how do you know I'm a doctor?" she prodded, adjusting the last strap.

The noise of the rotors expanded as the helicopter lifted off from the ground. "Only two types of people out here," he drawled, pirouetting the machine with a grace she envied: "scientists and soldiers. You didn't salute me, I didn't get in trouble for not saluting you... that only leaves scientist." Even with the helmet she could see the ironic look he shot her. "Must've just been a lucky guess, huh?"

"I salute your logic," she said with a laugh.

Ten minutes later, Elizabeth was half way through a reminiscence of a general she'd been unfortunate enough to butt heads with when her pilot, who had been listening with sympathetic amusement, stiffened. She broke off immediately. "What is it?"

"I don't know..." he said slowly, helmeted head tilting to look at his instruments and then out the window ahead. Following his gaze, she saw nothing more than normal majestic Antarctic scenery. "McMurdo, this is Sheppard, are you picking up anything out Gateway way?"

"Negative," the voice crackled over her headset. "What do you see?"

"I don't—What the hell?"

Elizabeth stared. "What is that?" It looked like a wall of white and it was approaching them in a tearing hurry. If this had been a desert nearer the equator she might have thought it was a sandstorm, but Antarctica didn't generally go in for sandstorms.

"I don't know, but I sure as hell don't want to stick around to find out." The helicopter slewed around and she grabbed at her seat. Her pilot's mouth was set in a grim line; Elizabeth stared back over her shoulder and saw the wall was gaining on them. "McMurdo, we have what looks like a massive snowstorm closing in on our position." He reeled off their coordinates.

"Please repeat. Did you say snowstorm? Weather reports say all clear."

"I don't care if they say 'pink elephants', I can see the damn thing! We're not going to make it back to Gateway, I'm setting us down."

The helicopter dropped at an alarming rate, leaving Elizabeth's stomach behind as it set down into a valley. She forced herself not to panic. After all, she'd spent weeks in cities where bombs went off on a regular basis – she'd faced down Goa'uld system lords! – so a snowstorm shouldn't be too alarming. Despite her private pep talk she looked up worriedly at the as yet undisturbed cliffs overhead: that thing had been massive.

The rotor blades thrummed to a stop, allowing a loud roaring to reach her even through her earmuffs. She knew that sound: winds, tearing towards them. Her pilot offered her a wry grin. "Been nice knowing you, Doc."

The world went white.

"Doc? Hey, Doc, you okay?"

Someone was shaking her shoulder. Elizabeth managed to open her eyes and look around. She was still in the helicopter, even still strapped in, though her headset was on the floor at her feet. "We survived?"

"Unless Hell's basically the same as Earth, yeah, I'd say so." Her pilot had taken his helmet and glasses off to reveal an attractive man with smiling brown eyes and the most unruly hair she'd yet met. "'Sides, I don't think you and I are gonna wind up in the same place when we're dead."

"I'll think of a witty retort to that in a moment," she informed him. "What just happened?"

"Search me. Storms don't just pop up out of nowhere so we usually get some warning of them from satellite imaging. Something that big should've been picked up." He grabbed his helmet and put it on. "McMurdo, do you copy? McMurdo? McMurdo, do you read me?" Silence. He pulled the helmet off and frowned at it. "Guess it's just you and me, Doc."

She looked around for the first time and realised that either they couldn't see out the windows or there was nothing to see. It was white. She leaned closer to the window, her breath misting on the glass and getting in the way. It looked like the helicopter was in some kind of featureless ice cavern with smooth white walls. "That's not what I would expect after a snowstorm," she said with surprise. What on earth had happened?

"No..." he agreed. "Wanna have a look 'round?"

"This doesn't bother you?" They'd been attacked by a rogue snowstorm and now they were somewhere impossible.

"I'll let you know. Come on." He opened his door and jumped out, taking a few cautious steps forward. Elizabeth watched him a moment and then fumbled hastily with her seatbelt and followed his example. The floor seemed solid enough, but then it had to be if it was holding up a helicopter. She walked around with more confidence. The room was about fifteen by fifteen metres with no obvious entrances, and it was too square to be natural. It was like being trapped in a walk-in freezer with the door iced over.

"Not even a hole in the roof." The voice made her jump and she spun to see that her pilot had come up behind her. "Don't ask me how we got in here, because I don't have a clue."

"Could we have dropped into a natural cavity in the snow and the storm covered it over...?" He gave her an incredulous look as she trailed off. "No, I suppose not. Well? Do you have any better ideas?"

"Yup." He turned back to the helicopter and yanked the back door open. "I say we make sure we can survive whatever this is and then worry about how it happened. Because seriously, Doc, this is crazy." He hauled himself up into the chopper. "And I wasn't trained to deal with crazy." He poked his head back out the door to look at her. "But survival, that I can do."

He handed her a pack and even though she braced herself to take it she staggered slightly under its weight. Her notion of physical exercise was taking Sedge for a run, not lifting weights. "What's this?"

"That," he said, shoving boxes around with thumps, "is your route to survival. Keep it with you at all times and don't go anywhere without it."

Elizabeth looked around the blank, featureless room with its noticeable lack of exits. "Where am I supposed to go?" she asked with some irony. Either he didn't hear her or he decided to ignore her, because he didn't answer. There was a very loud thump and a muffled curse, making her drop the pack and step forward hastily. "Hey! What are you doing in there?"

"Just trying to kill myself." He appeared at the door again, shaking a hand. "Dammit, that hurt. Okay, since there's just the two of us we've got rations for at least a couple of weeks. I'd say we could probably survive a month if we're careful."

"A month?" She had no intention of being lost that long.

"Water... is going to be a bit more of a problem."

"We're surrounded by the stuff!"

"That's the assumption I went on when I kitted out this bird, so I didn't stick much in. Fuel for melting it, sure, but not water. But tell me, Doc, do you really want to chance digging away at the walls of this place when we don't even know how it got here?"

"When you put it like that," she acknowledged, "not really."

He dropped a second pack down onto the floor. "It probably won't be a problem, but I'd rather not have to find out, if you know what I mean." He joined her on the floor. "Meanwhile, I've turned on the locator beacon and we can try the radio every hour. They'll be looking for us after that rather spectacular exit we just made. Old Donovan might be a bit sour, but he looks out for us flyboys. He'll take it as a personal insult if the weather gets us before he does."

"You almost make it sound as if he has a grudge against it."

"He does, if you ask me," he said with a grin. "Him and the weather are old enemies. We'll be fine, Doc. All we have to do is hang on till they get here."

"I wonder how much snow we're under."

He picked up on the unspoken 'and will they be able to find us under it?' and his grin widened. "Not so hot on the optimism thing, are you? Here I am, trying to keep you positive, and you're not buying it for a second."

"I'm just being realistic," she said, returning his smile. "I'm annoying like that sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" She rolled her eyes. "Seriously though, they'll find us. We've gotten pretty good at snow rescue around here."

"Gateway might be able to help out too," she said thoughtfully. Who knew what those Ancient devices might be able to do with the right stimulus?

He gave her a curious look rather than the sceptical one she would have expected if she'd thought before speaking. "Really? You doing sensor research down there or something?"

"We're researching a lot of things," she said truthfully.

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint. Considering the clearance I need just to be able to land there, I shoulda known better than to ask."

She smiled. "Yes, you should have, Major."

"A scientist who knows military? You're an enigma, Doc, I'll give you that."

"It is written on your jacket," she pointed out.

"In shorthand. Most geeks I've ferried haven't a clue what that means. Or to look for it."

"I'm not a geek," she protested mildly as she looked around the small room. "So what do we do now?"

"Now? Now we wait." He stepped away from the helicopter, trailing his pack behind him and took a look around the room. She followed him. "Unless you've got a better idea? Say, one that gets us out of here?"

"I—"

There was a noise, a whump, followed by a hum and then singing sounds as something encircled them. "Aw, crap," she heard her companion say in the instant before a bright light swallowed them up.

"You know," John heard himself say as the blazing light died away and the ring things disappeared up into the roof, "I was being very careful and didn't even think the words 'It can't get any worse'."

His companion's chuckle was genuine, which made him feel better about the situation. He looked around warily, wondering what had just happened. The chopper was gone. That was his first clue that something was wrong. His second was that the walls were no longer white.

"What the hell? What was that and where are we? Did we fall through a hole in the floor or something?"

The doctor he was doing a poor job of ferrying to McMurdo didn't respond, too busy looking about with recognition in her eyes. "This is impossible," she said softly.

"At least it fits in with the rest of this crazy trip, then," he said. He looked up at the ceiling. It was decorated with a weird circular motif and completely lacked the remnants of any holes they could have slid down. "Doc, do you have any idea what's going on here? First we get a snowstorm out of nowhere, then we land in an impossible room, and now – now we've moved without moving."

"Rings," she muttered, still ignoring him. "That must have been a set of transporter rings. We assumed that they were invented by them, but this must be..." She stepped forward and John realised that they were standing on a circle of ice that stood about a metre above the floor and had the same radius as the circular motif in the ceiling. Weird.

He looked around the room for further signs of weirdness. It was a high-ceilinged room made to feel like the ice of Antarctica, done in greys and blues with lots of angular decorative lattices and archways with geometric patterns on them. He'd roomed once with a guy who was really into fantasy battle games, and what this place shouted at him was "dwarves". Or maybe dwarves as done by elves, since the place had a weird ethereal beauty vibe going on too.

His companion slid down onto the floor and looked quizzically at the block of ice. "We must have activated them somehow and they had to pick up the ice on top of the floor to get to us."

"Activated what?" John demanded, but she didn't seem to hear him. He followed her down and pulled his pack towards him, glad that whatever it was just happened, the packs had come too. Digging around in his pack, he kept an eye on the doctor as she circled the room, and pulled out his Beretta. Leaning casually against the block of ice, he watched her stop to stare at a back-lit piece of latticework as he loaded the pistol.

Her head came up at the sound of the magazine slotting into place. "I really don't think that will be necessary, Major," she snapped.

"Antarctica isn't too forgiving, Doc. I'd rather not take any chances."

"This isn't Alaska. No polar bears."

"No," he agreed, and didn't put the gun away.

She scowled briefly, but didn't push the issue. He didn't much like her disapproval, but he'd learnt a long time ago not to take chances. Well, not too many. Not unless it seemed necessary, anyway. Shaking off the need to qualify his statement, he frowned around the room and wondered why there was such a place under the Antarctic ice. Not to mention how it was adequately lit and who had built the weird architecture that wasn't like anything he recognised (unless you counted the dwarves and elves). With a shrug he stepped forward, gun in hand, to take a better look at the nearest wall.

It slid away at his approach and turned out to be a door. He hesitated, wary, his eyes flickering from side to side and his gun rising instinctively. No one jumped out at him. The doctor rushed to his side and peered with delight into the corridor that had been opened up before them, as well lit as the room they stood in. The room was at the end of the corridor, which stretched out emptily into the distance. "Okay, Doc, I give. Automatic doors? What is going on here?"

"But this is Ancient!" she exclaimed excitedly. "I'm certain of it! We never suspected the outpost came out so far!"

"Wanna fill me in, Doc?" he asked with enough exasperation to penetrate her enthusiasm.

She looked at him as if suddenly remembering his existence, her face going in an instant from open and excited to closed and wary. He didn't like the change. "It's classified," she said automatically.

"Now generally that'd make me back down like a good boy, but seriously, Doc, you want help getting out of here you're gonna have to fill me in." She bit her lip uncertainly. "I do have clearance enough to make it to Gateway," he prodded.

"I'll think about it," she said, staring out at the corridor and avoiding his eyes, and he knew that that was all he was going to get right now. Revealing classified information was a big deal, he reluctantly acknowledged. Even when he was smack dab in the middle of it. After all, she hardly knew him.

"I'm John Sheppard," he added helpfully. "Though since you figured out my rank, I'm pretty sure you already knew that." She looked at him questioningly. "If we get to know each other you might be able to trust me better."

Her lips quirked in a reluctant smile. "Doctor Elizabeth Weir."

"Aha, the big guns! If I'd know you were going to be on board I'd've polished the chopper."

"You've heard of me?"

"Heard of you! Do you know how many disgruntled scientists I've ferried back to McMurdo who complained about you the whole trip?" She stared at him and he couldn't keep his lips from twitching. "Kidding, Doc. Just kidding. Heard nothing but good things."

"I should hope so." She bumped his shoulder chidingly with hers. "If you've quite finished having a laugh at my expense?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

She rolled her eyes at his comically reluctant tone and stepped forward. "Come on, let's take a look around."

"Hey, wait a minute, Doc!" He grabbed at her arm. When she stopped to glare at him he dashed back and grabbed the packs. "I said don't go anywhere without this, remember?"

She accepted the pack he shoved into her arms and grimaced. "I didn't really think you were serious."

"Deadly serious, Doc. This is Antarctica. You take the wrong step in the wrong weather and you're lost. You got no supplies with you, lost means dead."

"Are you naturally paranoid, or do they train you that way?" She hoisted the pack onto her back and did up the straps.

He grinned, copying her. "Bit of both, ma'am. So, we going? Or are we going to do the sensible thing to do when people are searching for you and stay put?" She looked at him. "Okay, dumb question. When are scientists ever sensible? Lay on, McDuff."

"Actually," she said absently as she obediently took the lead, looking about her in awe, "I'm not a scientist, I'm a diplomat."

"Seriously? What are you doing out here, then?"

She looked back at him, eyes smiling. "I like a puzzle."

He chuckled and trailed after her, keeping an eye on the corridor ahead in case something decided to jump out at them. "Jigsaw puzzles? 'Cause I hate those."

"Too dull for you?"

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with liking—"

"Anything that goes at more than two hundred miles an hour?"

He squinted suspiciously at the back of her head. "You sure you don't read minds or something?"

"No, Major," she threw over her shoulder, "I just know your type."

"Excuse me? My type?"

"You're an adrenalin junkie. Most Air Force pilots are, in my experience. There's nothing wrong with that."

"For your information," he said, irked by her casual pigeon-holing, "I also like Ferris Wheels."

"Really?" She looked back at him curiously. "How come?"

"There always has to be a why with you people, doesn't there? See, now this is why I don't work with scientists."

"I'm not a scientist," she reminded him.

"Whatever. Diplomats are even worse." They came to a fork in the corridor and he looked back the way they'd come. "That was an awful long bit of corridor to have nothing down it but just that one room."

"There were probably other rooms that were locked," she said offhandedly, peering down the two corridors ahead, both of which were dark and identical. She sounded certain rather than suggesting a theory, as if she'd had prior experience. Of weird, crazy rooms under the ice with magical transporter systems. But this couldn't be some top secret base they were in because no one had come to take them into a holding cell and threaten them with guns. Besides, top secret bases didn't usually care about design aesthetics.

"Look, Doc, I'm trying to be patient and all, but this is really starting to freak me out."

She paused in her inspection of the corridors to look at him pensively, and he could just about see the thoughts flickering behind her eyes. "Call me Elizabeth."

"All right, Elizabeth. What the hell's going on?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But if I can find something resembling a control centre I should be able to contact Gateway and get us out of here—"

"And I'll be ordered to forget everything. Fine," he sulked. "There's a flashlight in your pack. You want it?"

"Yes, please." She turned around so that he could pull it out and he handed it to her. "Thank you." She retrieved his for him in turn and hesitated as she put it into his hand, looking up at him. "Major, I'm sorry I can't—"

"Yeah, I know. It's okay. Really," he added when she kept frowning at him. "I've spent half my life in the Air Force, you'd think I'd know better than to demand answers people can't give me. It's just this is so..."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know, Major."

He shrugged. "Hey, call me John."

With a nod, she said, "John. Shall we?"

"After you." He waved her forward and followed her into the right-hand corridor, wondering how she'd chosen which way to go. Did she know or was it just a guess? What was this place? "Bit chilly in here, isn't it?" He blew on his gloved fingers, which naturally did nothing to help, and rubbed his hands together. "Don't suppose you know how to turn the heat up a bit?" They were approaching the edge of the light so he switched his flashlight on.

Elizabeth copied him. "Sorry, John, I—"

The lights came on, first the ones directly overhead and then moving up the corridor in sequence. They froze in place. "Okay..." John ventured. "That's spooky. Who's doing that?"

Elizabeth looked as confused as he was. "I don't know," she said slowly. "There shouldn't be anyone this far from Gateway – and there can't be anyone left. Not after all this time."

He was dying of curiosity but forced himself not to ask; he did have occasional bouts of self-control, after all. They switched their flashlights off, since they were completely unnecessary, and moved cautiously onwards. The lights lit up about a dozen metres in front and an equal distance behind, the lights ahead of them flickering on as they proceeded and those behind turning off. Definitely automated, then. Hey, maybe this was Hitler's secret Nazi base. There was supposed to be one in Antarctica, right? If you liked conspiracy theories, anyway. Did they have automatic lights in the 1940s?

John wondered if the ice had gotten into his brain and decided he'd better stop thinking and just let Elizabeth get them out. Speaking of which... "Do you actually know where we're going?" he asked. "You don't have, say, a map or something?"

She tossed him a faint smile, wonder lighting her eyes. Whatever was going on, she was enjoying it. "Sorry."

There was a corner coming up. John hastened ahead so that he could lean against the wall and peer around it, gun at the ready. "All clear." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and stalked around the corner. "Hey, we can't be too careful," he pointed out. "You said you didn't know of anyone out here, but that doesn't mean someone else couldn't have gotten here first."

"You truly are paranoid," she shot back at him.

"I prefer to call it... cautious. What's that?"

Something on the wall ahead was glowing, strongly in the dark and then dimly as the lights turned on. As they approached it they saw a panel which turned out to show a map, presumably of the complex they were attempting to explore.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanted a map, Major?"

"John." There was no need to get snippy with him just because she didn't like his idea of caution. "Okay, so now do you know where we're going?" He squinted at the map. "Can you read that? I don't recognise that writing."

"You wouldn't," she said absently, running her finger along half an inch above the screen and frowning as she traced out a path to her control centre. "The language is actually quite similar to Latin."

"Uh, no," he said flatly. "I know a bit of Latin and that does not look like Latin."

"No, the writing isn't—You speak Latin?"

He shrugged. "Only a bit." She was still looking at him. "What, I can't know things now?"

The corners of her mouth quirked in a slight smile. "Yes, John, you're allowed to know things."

"You just don't expect it of my 'type'."

She looked away. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"Well, I thought so."

Studying him, her head on a slight angle, she said, "It really bothered you, didn't it?"

"No!" he protested immediately. "Of course not. You were right about the two hundred miles an hour thing."

"But I still made assumptions about you. I'm sorry, I'll try not to do that again."

"You do that," he agreed hastily, uneasy with the conversation. "So! You know where we're going yet?"

"I think I do." She took another look at the map and nodded. "Yes, I think so. This way."

They took three steps before a door slid open beside them. "I didn't do it," John said automatically as the lights in the room flickered on. It looked like some sort of living room, with couches and a table. "Whoa! Let me go first." Elizabeth stopped at the door and gave him a Look. "Just humour me, okay? I'd feel better if I made sure it's safe before you go in."

"I can take care of myself, Major," she said sternly.

"I'm sure you can, Doctor, but this is what I'm trained for. You do... diplomatic-y things and I make sure you're alive to do them. I wouldn't tell you how to run peace talks, or whatever it is you guys do."

She stepped back from the door, but said, "I have a feeling you probably would."

"Well, maybe," he agreed, eliciting a smile. "But only if you were doing it wrong." She laughed and, relieved, he scoped out the room and told her she could come in.

"How kind of you," she said sarcastically, but with a smile in her eyes.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm just doing my job. My orders are to get you safe to McMurdo and that's what I'm going to do, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll try not to be too sensitive. I'm just fond of my independence."

"Hey, me too. Why do you think I like flying so much?" She opened her mouth. "Wait, don't answer that!" The eyebrow went up again in an expression of demure mockery and John grinned. "You're not so bad, Doc."

"Why, thank you, Major, I'll take that as a compliment." She looked around the room. "There doesn't look to be anything here that could help us."

"But you want to stay anyway."

With a quick shake of her head, not a negative response but more of a freeing herself of thoughts, she stepped towards the door. "You have no idea." She paused at the door and looked back at him. "Would you like to go first, John, so you can protect me from the big bad shadows?"

"Hey, you never know when those shadows'll turn nasty. You can't be too careful." He took the lead, but paused just outside the door. "Is it just me, or is it getting warmer in here?"

To be continued...