Elizabeth doubled over and braced her hands on her thighs. She really needed to take Teyla up on those offers of training sessions. "Hide?" she repeated in disbelief.

John nodded, face grim as he turned to her. "Yes, hide."

She managed to gather enough oxygen to speak. "Let me guess. You weren't the top in your class in military strategy."

"Ha," he deadpanned as he climbed carefully down into what looked to be a perilous dark crater.

"We do this a lot." Elizabeth sucked in another breath. "How silly of me to think that 'Expedition Leader' would be a desk job."

John rolled his eyes. "Elizabeth, just shut up and get in here."

She frowned dubiously. "That looks like a very small hole, John."

"It's not a hole," he corrected, "it's a lava cast."

Her expression didn't change. "That looks like a very small lava cast, John."

"Painfully so, yes."

"Well," her wheezes weren't quite as gasping now, "can't we find somewhere bigger?"

"We could run more," he suggested with a grin.

Grumbling, Elizabeth sighed and lowered herself down, wedging in between John and a rather pointy wall. "This is the kind of cockamamie plan that ends with us kissing in an alley."

"Hey, that was effective! The guards would have – wait, cockamamie?" He tried to scoot a little and make more room for her. "Who are you? Yenta?"

"Yenta?"

John tried to shrug but the close confines restricted everything other than his eyebrows, so he raised those instead. "Isn't it Yiddish?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Common misconception. The word is actually French in origin."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

He paused a moment. "So, 'Who do you think you are? Pepe le Pew? ' would have been better?"

Elizabeth sighed. "There are other famous Frenchmen, John. Real ones, even."

"Oui. But none with as much charm."

"What accent was that? Australian?"

"Sorry. I was too busy playing sports to join the drama club."

"But not too busy to be a Mathlete?"

John glared at her. "My math skills are going to save your life someday."

"So you've said before." She huffed a little. "And yet, here I am continuing to anxiously await that day."

"You know, you're cranky when you're below sea level."

"Well, I'm sorry but this is uncomfortable." Elizabeth moved a fraction of an inch to try and dislodge the rock from her backside. "And don't you think I don't feel where that hand is creeping, Pepe. I'm beginning to think you did this on purpose."

"How was I to know they were rabid? They were cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah, they looked like squirrels."

"Exactly. You should have known they would be dangerous. No one likes squirrels."

"What do you mean 'no one likes squirrels' – they're practically the puppies of the forest."

"If you categorize Cujo as a puppy, sure."

"They're fuzzy and fluffy."

"They're rats with fur coats!"

"Some people like rats."

"Carriers of infestation, I say."

John made a sour face. "Geeze. No squirrels, no skunks. I take it you're not generally a fan of wildlife?"

"Desk job," she reiterated, squinting up to suddenly find Ronon squatting beside the hole and peering down at them. "Are they gone?" she asked, relieved.

Ronon nodded and looked to John. "Running from the little furry things again?"

John bristled. "The furry things with giant fangs? Yes. Yes we are."

Ronon waved a hand lazily. "And you think they can't get to you in this hole? Not the best plan."

"Ha!" Elizabeth nudged John with an elbow. "I told you."

John grumbled up at the Satedan. "Just help get us out of here."

Ronon grinned. He grabbed Elizabeth's hand and hoisted her up and out.

"Thanks," she said, brushing the dirt from her pants.

Ronon jerked a thumb at John. "You ever think I should be giving him the orders?"

Elizabeth looked down at her military commander as he attempted to squirm out of the hole, hopping a little but ultimately sliding back down. "All the time, Ronon." She patted his arm. "All the time."