AN: Hmm, I promise I will get through these. I know the direction of this piece, but it's hard to have patience when I'm several chapters away from an important development. This chapter is set right at the end of "Sanctuary".

Sanctuary

The blue glow of the Stargate receded, leaving the faces of those watching from the control room colourless and plain. Tension hovered for barely a few moments before the curious crowd dispersed, voices tainted with both interest and a rejoining of the banal. Elizabeth watched the empty circle for a few moments, contemplating, before musing, "We may have just forfeited our first real chance at a worthy exchange of supplies and ideas."

"Ideas?" Rodney snorted from beside her, crossing his arms. "What sort of ideas could they possibly give us?"

"Spirituality, a sense of inner peace...the opportunity to attain cultural fulfilment," Elizabeth finished, smiling wistfully.

If she didn't know any better, Rodney began to seem as if he was clearing his throat compulsively. But further investigation out of the corner of her eye revealed him sucking in his cheeks and frowning at out at 'gate. She turned to him. "Do you realise what we have lost?"

"Major Sheppard's virtue?"

The technician on duty snickered into his laptop.

"No!" Elizabeth couldn't help the laugh curdling in her throat. "There are more important things to trade than grain...or coffee."

Rodney's expression became guarded. "You shouldn't have made me run those scans, then."

"Not to split hairs, Rodney, but you were the one who insisted."

He watched her stonily, before reaching up to skim the palm of his hand over his forehead. Worry petered over his frown until he asked as calmly as he could, "Is it that noticeable?"

"Is what noticeable?" Elizabeth was bemused.

"Sheppard must have said something," Rodney continued gloomily. "With all the incompetence I have to deal with in my department, it's hardly surprising that my hairline has started receding."

Leaning over to peer intently at his scalp, Elizabeth smothered her grin with a hand and made thoughtful noises. His left ear gave a remarkable twitch, a reaction that she had to admit was cute, though at his expense. She spent several more long seconds pretending to be concerned over his hair, before he finally snapped.

"What's taking you so long? Have you found lice or something? Oh God, I probably need to see Beckett now. Do you think he has one of those special comb things? I had lice in fourth grade and..."

"And there's nothing wrong with your hair now," Elizabeth assured him. "In fact, I think it makes you look more distinguished."

Interest sparked in his eyes. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course. Give it five more years and I'm sure you'll look like the most distinguished member here. Although, I don't suppose you'll have gained much maturity by then..."

Rodney's lips twitched and he evaluated her uncertainly, probably trying to figure out if she really was insulting him, or if it was an appropriate moment to exercise some laughter. The thought he was giving the situation warred over his face and Elizabeth knew she ought to put him out of his misery. A placating smile cracked the stern expression she had been fighting to maintain.

"Or it could just be lice," she offered.

"No, you've said it! You can't take back something you've said. You think I look distinguished. You like my hair. Dis-tin-guished."

"Dis-tin-guished?" repeated Elizabeth, amused. "Thought it's hardly as interesting as John's hair..."

Rodney assessed this, panic thinning his lips. "Wait a minute. I'm pretty sure distinguished trumps interesting. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Seems like Chaya found his hair very interesting."

"Noted, but her opinion isn't the important one, is it?" Rodney pressed.

Elizabeth paused for a moment, taken back by his intent gaze. "No, I suppose not."