Chapter 2 up! A little longer, a little filler-ish, but necessary. More mysteries abound! Enjoy.

Compromising Positions: Chapter 2
Tactless

Beep... Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…

Elizabeth knew that sound too well. It was a heart monitor. She didn't care to count how many hours she had spent in Atlantis' infirmary next to an injured or dying friend, morosely listening to the steady electronic blip and hoping against hope that it would never stop.

Slowly, she blinked her way into consciousness. The lights in the infirmary were dimmed, so Elizabeth assumed that it was sometime during the night in Atlantis. It was quiet, aside from the humming and beeping of the machinery she was hooked up to and the hushed mutterings of a couple of night shift nurses that Elizabeth could not see. As opposed to the last time that she woke up, Elizabeth was not in any pain. She didn't think that she was hopped up on painkillers either. Aside from being unusually tired, she did, in fact, feel wonderful. Even the dull ache in her lower back that she experienced after a long day of work had vanished, as if it was never there.

To say the least, this was confusing. She didn't know how long it had been since she fell unconscious for the second time, but surely agony of that magnitude did not just go away. And more importantly, why was she not dead?

A muffled sound at her side drew her attention, and Elizabeth blinked with a mixture of surprise and gratitude at the sight that greeted her. Curled up in an uncomfortable-looking chair at her bedside, face planted firmly into the edge of the mattress and murmuring gently in his sleep was John Sheppard. Elizabeth would know that unruly hair anywhere, even if his face happened to be buried into the side of her mattress, because every day, it always stuck out awkwardly. She had commented on this once, and John had turned a little red, immediately running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it and admitted that no matter what he did, it always sprang free.

Chuckling a little at the memory of having laughed at him mercilessly after offering him use of her flat iron, Elizabeth moved to smooth the offending appendage herself when she heard Carson say quietly from behind her, "Don't wake him, Elizabeth. He needs his rest."

Caught red-handed, she hastily pulled her hand away, wondering what had possessed her. "Sorry Carson," she muttered, watching as the doctor came closer and took a brief look at some of the readings of the machines and jotted a few notes on the clipboard at the end of her cot. He was looking at her strangely when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Aye, well it really isn't your fault, is it now? Oh, wait. I forgot. It is," Carson teased her, while Elizabeth just stared back at him. Seeing that she didn't understand, he elaborated, "The Colonel here woke up approximately eighteen ours ago. First words out of the wee lad's mouth were asking about you, mind. Oh, he woke op panicking, he did." The doctor tutted softly, pulling out his penlight and flashing it in and out of Elizabeth's eyes, making a few noises of approval before continuing, "It'd been six days since they brought you two in, see, and I hadn't a clue what was wrong with you at the start. Of course, he wakes up as a bloody medical miracle and immediately starts off on being chased by a ball of light. I thought he'd finally gone mad! It wasn't until he made damn well sure you hadn't a scratch on you before he started making any bloody sense. After that, of course, he absolutely refused to do much of anything until you woke up, and that includes sleeping."

Eyes prickling, Elizabeth looked down at John, still deeply asleep, and tried to pull herself together. He was so loyal to her. But she didn't deserve it. Although all things considered, if the roles had been reversed, she'd have woken up hysterical too.

Carson firmly gripped her shoulder after she didn't respond to his dialogue and shook it gently. "Hey there lass, you all right now?" he asked, concerned.

Elizabeth drew in a breath and looked at him. "He wouldn't have told you, Dr. Beckett," she said, forcing a perfectly schooled blank facade onto her features that betrayed nothing of her emotions. "but the last thing either of us remembers is huddling together in a corner, knowing full well that we were seconds away from dying. I hope you'll forgive him his behavior, and me mine." She frowned slightly and put a hand to her throat. Her voice sounded different.

"We figured as much," was the only response she received from Dr. Beckett. An expression of sadness briefly crossed his features before he stood and gently pushed her back into her pillows. "Sleep, Elizabeth. We'll talk about what's happened to you in the morning." With that, he strode away.

A light sigh passed through Elizabeth's lips, still confused as to what had happened and why she was alive. Despite this, she was tired, so she carefully rolled onto her side in an attempt to get more comfortable without disturbing John. She lay there quietly for a moment. Then, tentatively, she reached out her hand until it brushed his, practically melting in relief. She could touch him: it was real. Now she could sleep.

When she awakened, the first thing Elizabeth could see was Teyla, standing at her side and staring at her with the utmost fascination. Teyla, seeing that she was awake, broke out into a bright smile. "It is good to see you looking so well, Dr. Weir," the Athosian said happily, stooping low over the cot so she could touch her forehead to Elizabeth's.

"You as well, Teyla," Elizabeth returned quietly, aware that John was still asleep and hadn't moved an inch. "What time is it?" She frowned, again struck by how odd her own voice sounded to her. It was softer than she was accustomed to.

Tearing her eyes away from Elizabeth and glancing down at her watch, Teyla frowned at it for a moment before replying curtly, "It is currently ten minutes after 0600." In answer to the unanswered question on Elizabeth's face, the darker-skinned woman hastily added, "This morning marks the seventh day since our mission to M51-237."

"Thank you Teyla."

Teyla gave her a quizzical look. "For what?"

"You brought us back, did you not?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. Once we heard an explosion from the temple, Ronon, McKay and I sent the non-military back to Atlantis with an escort of two while we and the remaining two marines went back to look for you. We were forced to break down the door to the temple and that's… that's where we found you and Col. Sheppard." Teyla appeared a little ill at this memory. "We could pick up no other lifesigns, and McKay was detecting an energy buildup inside of the temple, so we brought you to the ring of the ancestors as fast as we could. We… sent a puddle jumper back after a few hours had passed but…." She shook her head. "We were unable to establish a wormhole to the planet."

Elizabeth sat back and exhaled. In all seriousness, she looked at her visitor and asked, "Has the stand-in destroyed Atlantis yet?"

Teyla burst out laughing. Realizing that this probably meant that no, Atlantis was not in immediate danger of destruction, Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile. She was saved from having to reply with as John began to groan and stir at her side. She laughed a little as he started muttering darkly about loud visitors without bothering to raise his head. "Good morning sleepyhead," she said mockingly.

At the sound of her voice, John raised his head so quickly he nearly cracked it into her jaw. "Elizabeth?"

"Of course, did you th—" Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "J-John? What happened to you?"

In response to her shock, John merely appeared uncomfortable and stared at her in fascination, just as Teyla had.

"John… you look…"

"Young? Hot? Studly?" the man offered, his teasing flyboy smile snapped back in place and laughter brimming in his eyes.

Elizabeth didn't reply, and just continued to stare at him. John Sheppard, her John Sheppard, didn't look a day over twenty-five. He had always maintained a youthful appearance, true, but this was different. If she were a bartender back on Earth, Elizabeth probably would have carded him in an instant. His face was less gaunt, his hair thicker, and he possessed that certain glow about him that only youth could provide. He really wasn't all that different. And yet, he was.

"Didn't I mention he woke up as a bloody medical miracle Elizabeth?" Carson asked as he strode over.

Unable to find words, Elizabeth simply gaped like a fish. Probably not the best expression for the leader of the Atlantis expedition to be wearing, but still…

While John at least had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, Teyla and Carson just chuckled, and Carson threw in, "If you can't even speak after clapping eyes on this young man here, you're probably going to faint dead away when you first encounter a mirror, lass." The doctor winked at her and began disconnecting the IV and various medical machines. "You're a wee sight prettier."

Smiling excitedly, Teyla produced a hand mirror from the bedside table and held it up for Elizabeth to see. Not believing her eyes, Elizabeth snatched it out of Teyla's hands and clutched it closer to her, as if this could somehow dispel the optical illusion.

It didn't.

She, like John, looked to be in her early twenties. She could have taken the image in the mirror and slapped it in her college yearbook, down to the last freckle. Her cheeks were rounder and her eyes seemed brighter, not to mention that her hair contained significantly more red it now. There were, of course, more freckles, and to be honest, Elizabeth felt like a child. Fearful that this was just some elaborate prank that Chuck had enlisted McKay to assist him with, Elizabeth prodded her own face. Mirror Elizabeth did likewise. She did it again. Same result.

Dropping the mirror with a clatter, she threw off her blankets and looked down at herself in the thin white hospital gown. Oh my god… she thought to herself. It was definitely her, but it was definitely not her current self. "H-h-how is this possible?" she asked in something between a controlled tone and a shriek.

Carson looked at her with a serious expression on his face. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "All I know is that, biologically, both your and Col. Sheppard's bodies appear in every way to be between the ages of twenty-four and twenty-six, approximately. You still have all of your scars and healed broken bones, but whatever the ball of purple light Col. Sheppard described to me did to you, it's still you. Your brains have remained largely unaffected, as well. You're both in perfect health. (Although you, my dear, seem to be slightly anemic. We'll talk about that.) When they brought you in, you seemed your perfectly normal selves. But then…" Beckett shook his head in amazement.

"It was as if we were watching you age backwards," Teyla finished for him, her warm eyes wide.

Elizabeth stilled, feeling icy dread fill her. "That orb, whatever it was… it killed four good men. Why did it do this to us?" She looked to the people surrounding her. It was clear from their expressions that they didn't know, and that disturbed her greatly. "No, no, no, no, no…" she muttered, voice rising to a near shout. "Dr. Beckett, you have to reverse this now!"

The doctor blinked. "Elizabeth, I really don't think that—"

"What?" she demanded, suddenly feeling inexplicably terrified. "You don't think that what? Carson, I saw what that… that… thing did to those men and let me tell you that under no circumstances will I accept that something so horrible could ever beget anything that is good! I need you to reverse this now!"

The room was utterly silent as Beckett and Teyla stared, shocked, at her livid form. She was trembling slightly, and breathing hard, staring at them right back. John was the only one who didn't look surprised.

"'Lizabeth," he began gently, his now boyish features filled with an empathy that she couldn't help but respond to and focus her attention onto him. "He can't. I already asked, and he can't 'Lizabeth. He can't."

She didn't know if she was more surprised that Beckett had declared something impossible after seeing what had just happened to her, or that Colonel John Sheppard had just called her, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, 'Lizabeth.

"Anna and her team have begun to study their photos of the temple's writings, Elizabeth," Teyla injected in a diplomatic voice. "I am sure that you would be welcome to visit them and inquire after their findings."

This at least, set Elizabeth's mind a little more at ease. Maybe once she learned what the orb was and why it had attacked the men and de-aged herself and John, Carson would be able to reverse whatever it had done to them. (And honestly, she wasn't that old. She should add tactlessness to the orb's list of offences. Second, of course, to murder.)

Angry, confused, and more than a little hungry, Elizabeth turned back to Carson. "Am I free to leave?"

The doctor hesitated, but obviously noticing that she was taking the situation quite hard, relented. "All right, you can go. But," he added, raising a finger at John, who appeared entirely too giddy, and eying Elizabeth. "I am not clearing either of you for active duty just yet. You must check in with me, or one of the nurses, every six hours, and return here to sleep at night." He glared at Elizabeth. "And you have to eat. Three full meals a day."
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth pointed out, "Carson, you are always telling me to eat more than I do."

The doctor appeared smug. "Regardless, this being a medical matter, you have to obey my orders Dr. Weir. If you don't eat out in the city, I have full authority to make you eat here."

Seriously considering opening her mouth to retort quite sharply, Elizabeth was unreasonably startled when John took ahold of one of her hands and gave a gentle tug in the direction of the infirmary doors. "Come on 'Lizabeth," he coaxed, giving her the puppy eyes that never worked on Carson but worked on her more than she would like to admit. "I'll walk you back to your quarters so you can get dressed. Breakfast's on me."

Elizabeth sighed, but didn't resist. "See you in six hours, Dr. Beckett," she muttered to his answering grin.

For a time, Elizabeth followed John in silence, idly wishing that she had had the foresight to ask for a set of scrubs. The hospital gown was a bit… breezy. But she really couldn't bring herself to care. "I'm sorry for that, John," she sighed, walking forwards with a bit more purpose. "I just…"

"Don't have any idea what the hell just happened?" John suggested with surprising vehemence. "How? Or more importantly, why? Why us? Why this?" He gestured to himself with some disgust. "It doesn't make any sense at all!" Hands thrown into the air, John sped up as well, a dark scowl contorting his features.

Elizabeth turned her head and scrutinized him intently, before smiling at him. "I'm glad you understand. And can actually put it to words!" She really was actually impressed. To anyone who knew Sheppard, witnessing the event of him putting something that had to do with emotions into words was an occasion for a full holiday.

For his part, Sheppard groaned. "They didn't see it," he said with conviction. "It's not as real to them." Turning towards her abruptly, John placed his hands on her shoulders and stared straight into her face. "We need to know what's happened to us," he insisted.

Elizabeth just gave him that long, sad look that she often caught herself giving him, when they had entire conversations with their eyes. After a long moment, all she felt needed saying were two simple words. "I know."

They continued on in silence, until Elizabeth swiped her hand across the crystals at her door. She made to continue on inside her standard Atlantis living area, but paused as John hesitated, appearing somewhat uncomfortable. At seeing him, Elizabeth softened somewhat, feeling a rush of emotion. "Come in, John. If… if you want to that is."

Wincing, Elizabeth realized too late as she walked in that her quarters appeared very… lived in, despite never having actually had much time to decorate or add personal items. "I'm sorry about the mess," she threw in hurriedly, scooping up a few items of clothes that she had left draped over a chair and shoving them quickly into her hamper.

"I don't even think my quarters came this clean!" John laughed lightly, and Elizabeth smiled gratefully at his lie.

Uncomfortably, she ran a hand through her reddish hair and she realized that she literally hadn't showered in a week. "Would you mind too terribly much if I took a moment for a quick shower? I just… need one," she ducked her head embarrassedly.

John's eyes widened ever so slightly, but he dutifully seated himself on a chair in a corner and flashed her a grin. "I've waited a week, I can wait another fifteen minutes." His grin grew wider. "Take your time. Enjoy it."

Shooting the man a grateful look, Elizabeth wasted no time in rushing into her adjoining bathroom and kicking the door shut behind her. But she couldn't help but wince as she found herself faced with the mirror above the sink. Looking at herself was now… morbidly fascinating. Carefully, Elizabeth undid the white hospital gown and let it drop to the floor before peering closer. What she saw there made her gasp in frustration. She looked like a mere child with those freckles, she thought mournfully. It had taken ten years for her to gain a more mature appearance, and with that appearance stripped away… no one would take her seriously ever again!

Deciding that thinking on it further would only depress her, Elizabeth took a steadying breath and turned on the hot water in the glass stand-up shower stall, holding her hand under the stream and adjusting the temperature to something just under scalding before stepping in.

She immediately decided that being clean was her absolute favorite thing in the world.

"You know, you really aren't all that different, you know," John said as she stepped out of the bathroom.

It took a few minutes for Elizabeth to disentangle her head from the towel she was drying her hair with, but once she did, she looked up at him with surprise. "Pardon?"

Doing an admirable job of ignoring the state of Elizabeth's damp, wild hair, John answered frankly, "You look younger, but you don't look different. You act the same, speak in the same way, smile the same…" He shrugged. "You just don't seem like you've changed a whole lot. Although…" A wicked grin split her 2IC's face as Elizabeth's expression switched over from contemplative to slightly wary. "I really do like the freckles."

Green eyes wide with irritation, Elizabeth clapped her hands over her cheeks. "Not the freckles!" she complained loudly. "I hate them! They had disappeared, but now they're back!"

"No, no, they're great, really!" John laughed, walking up and tugging her hands away. "You just never told me that you had freckles, and I've never thought of you with any. I'm surprised, but I like them, honest!"

Elizabeth just threw the towel in his face and started combing quickly through her hair.

"Come on, 'Lizabeth. They're really kind of—hey!"

Elizabeth just smiled smugly, squeezing the last drop of moisture out of her hair and onto John's shirt. "Serves you right," she informed him, snatching her towel back as he looked at her with exaggerated betrayal. "Let's get to the mess. I'm absolutely starved."

The mess hall was absolutely silent, which never happened. Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, Elizabeth paused just inside, physically halted by the weight of the stares of her crew. She knew that John hadn't even managed to make it in the door.

Holding her chin up strongly, Elizabeth made a valiant effort to pull herself together, tucked and errant strand of drying hair behind one ear, and strode purposefully foreword towards the breakfast line. Blessedly, the chatter in the room resumed, although she could still feel the eyes of her people trained fixedly upon her and John. She did her best to ignore them, focusing instead on the food that was being served today and how hungry she was, which was very.

Tray full, Elizabeth nodded politely to a gaping food server and waited for John (who was also, apparently, very hungry). "This way," he told her with false cheerfulness, weaving his way through the crowded tables as Elizabeth followed close on his heels. It didn't take long for them to reach an empty table, and they sat down next to each other and tucked in, too busy eating to speak. And honestly, Elizabeth didn't feel the need to. She was a diplomat, certainly, and was a great believer in the power of words by default. But she also knew that speaking was pointless when there was nothing to say.

"I am glad to see you to up and about," Teyla said mildly, walking up to the table and sitting down across from them as if she hadn't a care in the world. Ronon and Rodney were with her as well, McKay joining Teyla across the table and Ronon flopping down next to John. As he did so, a curious expression crossed the tall man's face, and much to everyone's surprise, he leaned down and sniffed (yes, actually sniffed) John's shoulder.

John jumped, appearing disturbed. "Ronon man, do you mind?"

Ronon, for his part, seemed unabashed. "Sheppard, you do know that you smell like fruit, right?"

Silence reigned for a moment, before Elizabeth burst out laughing, earning herself a few stares. Leaning over and attempting to smother her own giggles, she put her mouth to John's ear and whispered, "Bet you didn't know that my shampoo smells like strawberries."

Apparently, he didn't, because the man's youthful features turned beet red and he looked at her with horror. "I give you one little compliment and you sic Ronon on me?" he said, offended.

"We don't mention the freckles," Elizabeth informed him, still laughing. "I had to impress that upon you somehow."

Failing miserably at holding his incredulous expression, John laughed too. Elizabeth didn't know why the situation was so funny, but it was. She supposed that it didn't really have to make sense.

"What the hell?"

"Yes, Dr. McKay?" Elizabeth responded innocently, suddenly aware that all three of their table guests were appraising John and herself as if they had grown extra heads.

It was Teyla who decided to improve upon Rodney's tactlessness. "We are a bit lost, Elizabeth, and would appreciate it if you would explain the circumstances of this joke."

Suddenly realizing how strange her behavior must seem to the others, Elizabeth sobered immediately, smile melting off of her features. Here she was, laughing at something ridiculous with John, when she still had yet to discover the reason behind the deaths of four of her men, and the own changes that had been foisted upon her body. What was she thinking? She had a city to run. Some leader she was turning out to be.

"I'm sorry, Teyla. Maybe another time," Elizabeth offered dully, getting to her feet. She straightened her shoulders. "Thank you for escorting me to breakfast, John," she said, without even looking at him, as she walked away, heading vaguely for the control room.

How had she possibly gotten herself into this position?

Yup. Elizabeth's a clam. Maybe someone will finally get her to loosen up? *winkwink*

Thanks SO FREAKING MUCH to my reviewers. All two of you have my eternal love!

Type in that review box. I double dog dare you.