You'll notice that some of the characters think of or address Kate Heightmeyer as "Heightmeyer" or "Dr. Heightmeyer", while others call her "Kate." This is deliberate and reflects differing working relationships.

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Elizabeth Weir grinned as she listened to the voices outside her office. From her vantage point, she could see all the details of the imminent confrontation through one of the windows. John Sheppard was not going to win this one. Not by a long shot. The part of her that was still angry thought that it served him right.

The rest of her was getting ready to laugh her ass off.

"Good mornin' to ya, Major Sheppard!" Carson said cheerfully. Next to him stood Private Nichols, one of the marines.

John tensed up; Elizabeth could see it even with his back to her. At his station, Peter Grodin made no attempt to hide his amusement.

"Good morning to you, too, Doc," John said suspiciously. "You're in a good mood today."

"Oh, aye, son." the doctor beamed. "This young lad here is in training as a medic, so I wanted to show him how to assess and control a trauma scene."

"Control a trauma scene," John repeated. Elizabeth could tell that he was frantically trying to figure out what kind of trap this was. Her grin grew wider as John looked up at Private Nichols. And up. And up. Nichols was at least six-foot-nine and built like a tank. "Private, I wouldn't think you'd have trouble controlling anything. I sure as hell wouldn't want to argue with you."

Oh, John had definitely set himself up. Elizabeth watched as a devilish gleam entered Carson's eyes. "Fantastic, Major. Maybe you can be helping me train him." Carson turned to Nichols. "First scenario: you arrive at the scene of a puddlejumper accident. There's one patient, who's being stubborn and uncooperative." Carson looked directly at John as he spoke. "You know that unless he follows your instructions, there will be serious consequences. What should you do first?"

John folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. "Do tell. What's wrong with this "patient"?"

"That's the interesting point, Major," Carson said earnestly. "Sometimes you can't tell what's wrong right away. Certain things, like viruses or large explosions, can have delayed effects, so it never hurts to be cautious. Oh, incidentally, that reminds me. I've been wantin' to test all the jumper pilots' reaction times, to make sure that the Ancient tech doesn't have delayed neural side effects." He smiled innocently, and Elizabeth had to stifle a giggle.

John turned pale as Carson continued. "I was going to start with an EMG -- that's the test with the needle probes and electric current. But don't worry. You'll only need about five or six to start off." John continued to look nervous. Elizabeth knew that he'd endured the procedure before; she remembered him complaining bitterly for two days afterward.

Carson stopped and shook his head. "Look at me, now. I've been rambling on." He turned back to Nichols. "Anyway, you've arrived at the scene and the patient is acting like an ass." Both Elizabeth and Peter snickered at that one, and John looked like he was getting mad. "Ye have to gently but firmly assert your authority. For instance, like you're the CMO and can suspend certain individuals' gate travel clearances."

Elizabeth wished she could see John's face. She'd bet that he was ready to explode. "All right, all right!" he growled. "I'll go see Heightmeyer!"

"Why, Major Sheppard. I was speaking hypothetically. But now that you mention it, she's got a 1:00 slot with your name on it." Suddenly, all traces of levity were gone. "I wouldn't skip it this time if I were you. The next part of this lad's training will involve restraining unruly patients. Think of this as your own personal trauma scene control."

Elizabeth couldn't hear John's reply, but Carson merely glared at him. Elizabeth burst into laughter as John muttered something dire under his breath and stalked away. The physician then let his face relax into the grin he'd barely been able to hold back himself. Reaching up to slap Nichols on the back, he said, "Thanks for the assist."

"Anytime, Dr. Beckett. It's been a pleasure doing business with you." Elizabeth wondered what Carson had offered the marine, then decided she was better off not knowing.

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Hours later, Elizabeth was still sitting at her desk. Her office was growing dim as the sun set. She stretched in her chair, contemplating leaving the rest of the paperwork for the next day. Then there was a knock at her door, and Kate Heightmeyer poked her head into the room. "Elizabeth? Everything okay?"

Elizabeth smiled and beckoned Kate inside. "Fine, thanks. Listen, I'm sorry I had to cancel on you at the last minute."

Kate grinned wickedly. "I'm surprised you dared, after Dr. Beckett's Oscar-winning performance this morning." The two women shared a laugh over John's discomfiture. "I've got some time right now, though. Do you want to meet?"

"Sure. We can either go to your office or stay here. Doesn't matter to me either way."

"I have another idea."

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They walked for about ten minutes in the direction of Kate's office. Before reaching it, however, they arrived at a little-used, winding staircase that ended in a large, airy room with floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls. Elizabeth nodded appreciatively as she looked around. "You really found a great spot."

"Definitely. Sometimes I'll come here to practice yoga or meditate. It's very peaceful." Kate walked over to a pile of cushions in the corner and gracefully sat cross-legged on one. Elizabeth followed suit, propping another cushion against the wall and leaning back with a sigh. For just a minute, she just closed her eyes and let herself drift.

"You must really be exhausted after the last few weeks," Kate said sympathetically.

"Yeah. The storm, the Genii, the nanovirus plague. Any one of the above would have been bad enough, but we lucked out with all three. And then there's Sora. I still have to figure out what to do with her. We can't keep her locked up here forever." Elizabeth opened her eyes again and looked at the psychologist. "I'd like to be able to deal with these things without having to worry about my team tearing itself apart."

"You're referring to John's undermining your authority during the plague."

"Partly. But there seems to be increased tension in general between the military and the scientists on this expedition."

"How so?"

"It's hard to put your finger on it. But I read Carson's report of events during the storm. He didn't say anything directly, but there seemed to be a quite a bit of friction between him and Lieutenant Ford. I'm not sure why, since they're otherwise friends. Carson insisted on taking the blame, but I wonder."

"Tell me what happened during the plague," Kate urged. "That's when this tension came to a head, correct?"

Elizabeth didn't say anything for a few minutes. Then, "He has no patience sometimes. He can't sit and wait, he just has to get in on the action. It's like he's half John Wayne, half twelve year-old." She paused. "And it wasn't like I was going to leave him completely out of the loop. All he needed to do was stay on the radio. He would have heard everything and could have offered his input at any point. But instead, he felt he had to personally be in the middle of the action, and we almost had an even bigger disaster."

"Why do you think John's like that?"

"I don't know! Probably thinks civilians are no good in an emergency. We're fine to negotiate trade agreements or play with gadgets, but if there's an actual emergency, forget it." Elizabeth shook her head. "Thing is, sometimes I wonder if he's right."

Elizabeth was silent again for a few minutes. When she finally continued, her voice was filled with irony. "His idea worked. Carson and Rodney tried scientific solutions, but it took an overgrown kid with an atomic bomb to do the job. If he hadn't acted, Ford, Zelenka, and so many others would be dead now."

Kate observed dryly, "Seems like the description 'overgrown kid with an atomic bomb' could also apply to Rodney. Maybe you're also buying into the false brawn/brains dichotomy."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Maybe." Then she corrected herself. "I guess it is probably true. Here was a situation that didn't involve the wraith, armed fanatics, armed child fanatics, or mist creatures that looked like General Hammond. I did want to use it as an opportunity to show that civilians and scientists can be useful. Instead, Petersen flips out and reinforces the negative stereotype. Like I said, it almost makes me think that John is right."

"No!" Kate said sternly. "The bottom line is that the only reason Petersen was able to transport into the mess hall was that John had already broken quarantine. Both military and civilian screwed up on this one."

Elizabeth retorted, "You don't need to tell me! Tell him that."

"I do need to tell you. You've couched this entire discussion in terms of "us" versus "them." Unless you believe your own press releases, no one else is going to think otherwise."

"Any concrete suggestions on what I can do?"

Kate's beeper went off at that moment, and she looked down to see who was trying to reach her. "It can wait a few minutes," she muttered to herself. To Elizabeth, she replied, "I think you're going to have to have an ongoing dialogue with John. Like I said, others will follow your example once the two of you get this straightened out."

Elizabeth bit her lip and looked down. "I'm not sure how to talk to John about this. I often intend to have a serious conversation with him, but he either makes some wisecrack remark or gives me the "puppy-dog eyes." Before I know it, he's changed the subject."

Kate sighed. Might as well ask the same question she had tried to ask John. "Elizabeth, what are your personal feelings about Major Sheppard?" Before Elizabeth could answer, though, Kate's beeper picked this inopportune moment to ring again.

"Damn," Kate said. "This time I've got to go. Just think about what I said, okay?" And she was gone.

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I find it difficult to write Elizabeth. What do folks think? Please R&R.