Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis or its characters…

Author's Note: This took longer than I thought it would to get it done and posted. Then again, I didn't think this chapter was going to be that long, and I think it actually ended up longer than the rest. Goes to show my tendency to be long-winded…Enjoy!

"Elizabeth? Please come out, lass."

They had discovered her refuge, as evidenced by the coaxing tone of Dr. Beckett's voice calling to her from the other side of the door, beyond her barricade. It wasn't especially pleasing to realize that they had sent the good doctor to talk her down again. Don't get her wrong, she generally liked the man. He was a compassionate, decent sort. But given the circumstances he was more of a vexation than a source of solace.

"Dr. Weir? It's Dr. Heightmeyer. We just want to talk to you."

"Oh great," Elizabeth muttered to herself. Imposing one placating, frustratingly calm and soothing voice upon her wasn't horrendous enough. They had to send two people to try to mollify the crazy woman. "They 'just want to talk.' Always with the 'talk.'"

Chuckling emerging from her right alerted Elizabeth to the presence of what was probably the only person in Atlantis that didn't think she had lost her mind. She turned and glared at John Sheppard. He had returned from inspecting the throng of doctors and military personnel that had gathered outside to reclaim her, and just in time to witness her muttering to herself.

"And what, may I ask, do you find so amusing, Major Sheppard?" she asked daring him to continue to find her situation humorous. He gave her a facetious smile.

"I just never thought I'd see the day when Elizabeth Weir was sick of 'talk'," he told her while attempting to remain straight-faced. With every passing moment, her suspicions that he was sticking around solely because he found her entertaining became more solidified. Why was she trying to help this man?!

Well, she knew why. She cared a great deal for him and she wanted him back. They needed him. She needed him. And he needed her help. But, boy, was he making it difficult for her. She decided to tell him so.

"You know what?" she prompted.

"What?"

"You aren't making this any easier, you know. There's entire mob of people just beyond that door who think I'm crazy and want to sedate me and lock me in my room again. And it's all thanks to you. And in addition to said 'mob' threatening to knock down the door, you insist upon mocking me!"

"Well, I wouldn't call it a 'mob' exactly…" he attempted the only response he could think of to counter the tirade he had just rightly received. In his defense, he had only been trying to lighten the mood in a tense situation. That's how he worked, how he coped with all the precarious situations he often found himself caught in. Evidently, Elizabeth did not deal with stress in the same manner.

"Even if it doesn't constitute a 'mob'," Elizabeth began, realizing her critical spiel had done its trick in sobering John. "How am I supposed to deal with them? What would be gained by evading capture?"

"Umm…" John was at a loss, considering that the main reason for executing her escape in the first place had been to get to the device and figure it out, which Elizabeth had regrettably informed him she could not do on her own. But he didn't want her to give up either. "There's always avoiding another dose of your least-favorite sedative."

She gave him a desperate look in response. He did have a valid point; she wasn't especially looking forward to being confined to her room again, with only the puerile major to keep her company between psychiatric visits. But the problem was…

"I wouldn't be able to shake the others off, even if I knew how," Elizabeth explained away her reluctance in pursuing his suggested course of action.

John wanted to smile at her, but knew his light humor was beginning to grate on her nerves. However, after the display she had put on earlier in arriving to the lab, he couldn't help but think she gave herself too little credit. But even with her surprising surreptitious abilities, Elizabeth wouldn't probably be able to get past the myriad of personnel in the corridor, at least not when she wasn't confident in the endeavor.

"But I know how to get past them," John offered, a thought striking his mind like a luminescent bolt of lightning. The plan began to lay itself out before him as she scrutinized his eyes.

"Maybe so, but telling me isn't going to impart the ability upon me," Elizabeth replied, unsure as to how his affirmation constituted a solution.

"Exactly," he replied smugly. Judging by the look adorning his face, Elizabeth was fairly sure that she did not like where this was going. She raised an eyebrow at him, illustrating her thoughts to him, urging him to offer a decent explanation, and quickly, before she decided to give up on him and surrender herself to those who thought her mentally unstable.

John hesitated. It was a good plan…at least it sounded good in his head. Well, it was the only plan they had to get her out of there bar the subdued and more-than-likely sedated method that would no doubt result from her surrender. But still…he was hesitant to propose the idea to Elizabeth. It wasn't exactly normal or facile. It would no doubt make both of them very uncomfortable…but what else could they do?

"I can get you out of here," He continued, finally deciding that it was the best, the only recommendation he had formulated, and she deserved having the option. "But you would have to let me take control of your body."

"What?!"

Okay, she had taken it the way John thought she might…

He studied her face in a vain attempt to ascertain her thoughts. The look of utter shock passed after a few more seconds than he had hoped it would take. It was followed by a look of…well…disgust. But that passed too, and it was his turn to put on a confident face as she returned to her classic manner of analyzing the person offering her options or news she did not exactly wish to consider.

"You can do that?" she asked, rather quiescently considering her evident shock but a few seconds prior. "How can you do that?"

"I'm not exactly sure if I can," he began. Elizabeth glared at him. It seemed like she was doing that a lot lately. "I've never been able to really try before, because no one was willing to let me. No one knew I existed."

Elizabeth continued to stare him down.

"But I think it will work like when I visit people's dreams," John rationalized, struggling to validate his plan. "They're in an unconscious state, so their minds are more open to letting me in. I think if you concentrate on releasing control, I can take over."

She nodded her head. John wasn't sure whether it was giving him permission or just a placating gesture. So he gave her a moment to process what he had just said. He hoped she would agree to his plan. He wasn't really looking forward to taking possession of Elizabeth's body, it seemed somehow a severe violation of her privacy, but he wanted to finally be able to take real action again, to assist her in a tangible way.

"Okay," Elizabeth gave her consent. She was far from enthused by the idea of relinquishing control of her body, and she wasn't sure if it would even work, let alone if John would be able to get her past the mob in the hall. There really weren't any foreseeable benefits to avoiding the others anyway, besides avoidance of sedation and the conciliatory voices of Drs. Beckett and Heightmeyer. But there was one solid reason to agree to John's plan, and that was John himself. Elizabeth knew how much being unable to take action affected him. He needed this. He needed to do something, to feel useful again…hell…to feel alive again. She would do this for him.

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So, this is what being Dr. Elizabeth Weir is like…

John mused to himself as he held her petite hands out in front of his eyes. He wiggled the delicate fingers. It was no doubt the creepiest thing he had ever experienced. Sure, he had considered possessing her body before, entertained the notion of being close to her. She was a fairly attractive woman, and he was a man after all...But he had never wanted to be this close to her. This, this was far too intimate.

His own ethereal form glittered as a transparent haze surrounding her arms and hands …creepy! Shifting his gaze down, he ventured to check out the rest of his newly acquired body. Something obstructed his view…some things.

Her breasts!

John hastily looked back up. He only panicked at the impropriety for a moment before he realized that Elizabeth's consciousness was still unaware, confined to the space where she had withdrawn to in her mind through meditation. It was a revealing procedure to witness; he now knew why she could remain so calm and collected most of the time.

Deciding that there was no way she could ever find out…John considered her body again. So, this was what being a woman was like. No wonder they didn't think boobs were a big deal…they weren't as interesting from this angle. John felt confident in making this conclusion, for he considered himself somewhat of an expert, having examined many different breasts from a variety of different angles. But this was definitely a new one…

Okay, enough of gawking at his boss' feminine attributes. It was time to get down to business. He hated to think it about himself, but he had been feeling rather incomplete for the lack of ass kicking lately. What did that say about him as a person? Then again, he had been feeling rather incomplete in general, so who was to say it was just the lack of violent satisfaction that frustrated him.

John turned his attention, well, Elizabeth's attention to the barricaded door. Judging by the noise emerging from behind the fortification, the others were about to break through. Elizabeth had done a good job constructing the barricade; several hours had passed since the first grinding noises had indicated their attempts to break in had begun.

The question was…Should he wait for them to finish their work and come to him? Or should he help them destroy the barricade?

John wasn't sure how long he'd have before Elizabeth's consciousness reemerged and supplanted his control, but it appeared that he wouldn't have to wait that long for the posse to come bursting through the door anyway…

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John Sheppard tried to concentrate, but he couldn't get past the sound of Elizabeth's bare feet pattering against the floor as he told her body to run down the empty corridors of Atlantis. Her heart was beating rapidly from the strenuous activity, further obscuring the noises that would forewarn him of pursuers.

He had done pretty well with Elizabeth's body. In fact, getting past the large contingent of people obstructing the corridor, and the route to their freedom had been surprisingly easy. He only had to incapacitate a couple of the military personnel to create enough confusion to slip away. They really hadn't expected the maneuver from Dr. Weir, despite the earlier discovery of the unconscious men who had been guarding her door.

So he had liberated her-and him with her-from their grasp for who knew how much longer, but at least he had been able to do something for her. It was little repayment for all she had tried to do for him. And she would no doubt be caught and locked away again by her so-called friends.

John slowed his pace down…well, the pace at which he was pushing Elizabeth's body. He had tried to treat the petite woman's body with care, unsure of her strength or breaking point. Perhaps, he had pushed her too far. It was difficult for him to sense the intricacies of her body, whether it had grown fatigued or not. It took all of John's focus just to order her muscles to what he wanted. There wasn't really time or energy for the effort required to sense how she was physically feeling.

Apparently, he hadn't done that well of a job using her other senses either.

He stopped short right in front of Dr. Rodney McKay. John blamed himself. There was no way that the scientist had improved enough to elude Major John Sheppard. He simply must not have been paying attention, distracted by worrying over the condition of Elizabeth's borrowed body.

"Rodney," John said, hearing Elizabeth's voice accompanying his own. It startled him more than he thought it would. This whole thing was far too weird, even for the Pegasus Galaxy. Being turned invisible, everyone thinking you're dead, haunting people's dreams…that wasn't entirely shocking given what he had experienced in this part of the universe. But possessing your boss' body and running around the city, evading everyone else, and speaking with her voice…now that was just plain weird. And wrong. Definitely wrong!

McKay simply gave John/Elizabeth a strange look. It must have been the reassuring smile he had attempted to give the scientist, which given his ever-fading control over Elizabeth's body could have turned out like her most hate-filled glare or possible the face some second-grader would pull at another after they stole their juicebox or made a comment about the sweater their grandmother had knitted for them-just because it had goldenrod in it didn't mean that his Nana Sheppard didn't love him!

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" Rodney tentatively asked the crazed now dazed-looking woman. Upon receiving no answer he began mumbling to himself. "Of course you're not alright. You've been tearing around the city, beating people up and trashing science labs…"

John felt Elizabeth's mind as it began to reawaken from where she had withdrawn. There wasn't much more he could do for her, so he relinquished control to the reemerging consciousness. When he was assured that she was fully there and in control again, John stepped out of possessing the same space as the now fully aware woman.

"…messing around with devices you have no clue about…"

"Whoa," Elizabeth said to no one in particular, quite certain that it was one of the strangest sensations she had experienced in her life. But she didn't remember much. "What happened?"

"…claiming that Sheppard's alive and talking to you…"

"I told you that I'd get you out of there," John answered, a self-satisfied grin forming across his face. It obscured the fact that he was still freaked out about the whole experience. "And so I did."

"…and holding conversations with thin air…"

"Who's holding conversations with thin air now, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked the prattling scientist, deciding how she was going to convince him to help her…or fail that, get past him without further alerting the others.

"Wh-What?" He jumped, having forgotten about Elizabeth's presence while he rambled on to himself. The poor man really couldn't help it. It was a sort of safety mechanism, albeit not a very useful one.

"I could really use your help, Dr. McKay," Elizabeth coaxed, putting her hand out to the frightened man. She tried to act as normally as possible, hoping that it would ease the scientist's mind…or at least confuse him enough to keep him going along with her for awhile. She linked her arm through his and began to stroll along the corridor, sweeping him up in the action. "Now, Rodney. I can't do this on my own. I tried…but as you've pointed out before-on many occasions-I'm no scientist…"

John followed behind the pair, hoping that he was leaving enough space as to not disturb Elizabeth while she did her diplomacy thing. It was amazing to watch. He had never considered the talent she had for it, the ability it took to make others feel at ease while you attempted to sway them to your opinion. Had she worked him over so easily in the past? Nah, he was too smart for that. Besides he always had put her off kilter when they had confrontations before.

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"How's it coming, Rodney?' Elizabeth asked passively from where she sat, hands folded primly in her lap. Despite the difficulty and the rawness with which her nerves burned, she was playing it cool. Being an alarmist would only upset Rodney. And while an upset Rodney often did his best work, an upset Rodney was also an afraid, irascible one, one that would consider tattling on her.

"Oh. Uh, fine," he offered from where he sat across a table from Elizabeth, looking up briefly from the computer screen in front of him. "But I really don't know what you expect me to find that could help Sheppard."

Elizabeth studied the scientist harshly for a few moments before turning her attention to John as he stood undetected over McKay's shoulder. He met her gaze and frowned.

"He's stalling, Elizabeth," John warned.

"I know," she replied, unfettered by the comment. She had known the entire time that the scientist wasn't really set on helping her figure out the device. His last comment had confirmed her suspicions; he avoided mentioning John's name to her the majority of the time, and the only circumstances in which he conceded acknowledgment of the appellative was to assert the truth of the man's demise.

"It looks like he's attempting to send a message to the others through the computers in the control room," John relayed what he could determine from the computer screen. "We should get out of here."

"Why? To Where?" she asked coldly. John didn't like the look on her face. She was going numb.

"Hmm?" Rodney asked. "Did you say something?"

"Not to you!" Elizabeth snapped. She took a deep breath, feeling less in control than when she had surrendered control of her body to the major. Rodney looked aghast at the outburst. She considered apologizing to him, but decided he deserved no such attention. Instead, she continued her conversation with John, who was also giving her a strange look. "Honestly, John, what would be the point? They'll catch me eventually, especially since Dr. McKay here hasn't believed a word I've said…Which, you know, is really rather disappointing. This whole ordeal is above all else a disappointment. I realize now that the faith I placed in these people was quite undeserved-

"That's not fair and you know it," John interrupted, finally able to cope with this fatalist side of Elizabeth that he'd never seen before.

"Maybe," she conceded half-heartedly. She stared off into space for awhile. Rodney seemed to be busy faking working on the computer again, having already sent his message to the others, so John paid him no heed. The scientist could probably have got up and walked out of there and he wouldn't do a thing to stop him, so enraptured was he with the bizarre melancholic Elizabeth. He couldn't take his eyes off from her. Never had he seen her like this before. It was so far removed from the passionate, strong leader he had known. She was giving up.

Distant noise alerted John to the approaching presence of the others, those that would come to take Elizabeth back, sedate her, and 'help' her recover from her mental illness. He couldn't let that happen, not like this. Her submission now would mean the breaking of her spirit. She'd question herself, her confidence, sense of self, would dissipate like vapor. She'd never be the same again.

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let her be broken, like a prisoner of war, by her own friends. He rushed to her side, crouched down before her and attempted to catch her eyes. It would've been easier if he could've touched her, stroked her cheek, grabbed her arm, shook her violently! He ignored the overwhelming urge to do just that, knowing it was futile. Words were his only hope.

"Elizabeth," he said as gently as he possibly could. The clamor of the approaching soldiers was only getting louder. He really needed to refresh them on stealth practices. Maybe he should have Elizabeth teach them a thing or two.

No response. They were running out of time, and he needed her to get her will back. He took a deep breath and hoped that she'd forgive him instead of returning the gesture in kind later on.

"DAMMIT, Elizabeth!" he shouted in her face. She jumped noticeably. Now he had her attention. "You cannot give up like this! Are you just going to let them take you without a fight?"

"What would be the point-

"The point is never giving up, remaining adamant about what you believe! Don't let them tell you that you're anything less than the leader of Atlantis. You are Elizabeth Weir. You are the strongest person I've ever known. You do not owe them anything, especially not your surrender. They owe you! Don't let them take you without a fight!"

John stood up and stepped back. The look in her eyes had said enough. He had managed to rekindle the willful, passionate woman inside her. He wasn't sure if it was because of what he had said, but that wasn't the important part. She had understood what he had meant. And that's what counted.

John wasn't the most articulate man Elizabeth had ever meant, but she always seemed to manage to understand his meaning. And it was that meaning which was generally important, what was important now. He respected her, and it was respect she deserved. And if the others weren't going to show her it, then she still should have it for herself. And she would lose that if she just let them take her without protest.

She would never admit she was wrong about John Sheppard's existence. And she would not surrender too easily to the others. They would have to drag her kicking and screaming.

She would fight.

A/N: Elizabeth has refused to give up…but will it last even when she's confined to the infirmary, and John's resoluteness wavers? Only a couple more chapters to go…