Hello again, you wonderful people! How are you? I hope you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving. Or, for those of you who don't live in the states, a flat-out wonderful Thursday. I know that I, for one, have now developed an unhealthy obsession with butternut squash soup, having been served it yesterday and falling in love.

But now for the chapter. Which is the part you're actually concerned with.

Compromising Positions: Chapter 9
Streak

Elizabeth wasn't sure how to feel at the moment: scared or insulted. Scared, because she and John had just spontaneously solved the problem that had been vexing Earth's scientists for years in a span of five minutes, or insulted, because no one appeared to believe that either one of them were capable of doing so.

That said; she was really mostly glad that General Landry hadn't called security and immediately had the pair of them arrested and restrained. When she had said as much to John in a whisper as Colonel Carter had stared at their work, eyes alight with excitement, he had just muttered back somewhat bitterly that she was the one person he knew that could find something to be thankful for in any situation.

That just left Elizabeth caught between an additional set of feelings: smug or annoyed.

As it was, the pair of them were pretty much banished to their seats at the conference table. People buzzed around them, babbling to each other with excitement or keeping suspicious watch or yelling instructions across the room, but if they moved too overly much, the hardened SGC staff would go about their business more skittishly and the two marines that stood guard at their sides would finger their zats meaningfully. Elizabeth wanted to help the scientists that Colonel Carter had called in to run simulations of what had quickly been dubbed 'dreamwave amplification theory' by Dr. Lee (She couldn't bring herself to look the man in the eye after having effectively seduced him with World Of Warcraft, of all things.) but it had quickly been determined that she was of no use other than presenting the idea, because frankly, she didn't understand it enough. John, who had started up a game of tic-tac-toe with her on the back of one of her neatly kept files, had laughed at her miffed expression and told her that she didn't need to understand it. It was enough to know that it would work.

And there was absolutely no doubt in either one of their minds that it would. While she or John might not have been able to explain the exact numbers of the incredibly complex wavelength amplification process, but they did know that the Replicators would be annihilated by the plan. It was an unspoken agreement between them.

Even better was that, after doing the math for herself, Samantha Carter backed them one-hundred-and-fifty percent. One call from her to O'Neill, who had holed himself up in Landry's office to escape all of the 'geeks', and the General was gung-ho for the new plan as well. Everything seemed just about perfect.

Except for the fact that she and John had done a creepy Vulcan mind-meld.

Eyes still alight with mild anxiety, Elizabeth marked a quick 'X' on the little sloppy tic-tac-toe board that John had scribbled in, barely noticing when he filled in an 'O' and claimed victory as his own with a proud dash through the line the circles formed. A restlessness had taken up residence in her body, and she really wished that she could pace right about now. Thankfully, it seemed that the universe had heard her pleas, and General Landry strode back into the room.

"Well, you two, it seems that your crazy plan could actually work," he said brusquely as they rose to meet him. The General's bushy grey eyebrows crept up his forehead a bit farther. "Understandably, we'll be delaying your return to Atlantis for a couple of days more: no more than three. Carolyn will be running a few more tests, and the IOA still has to approve the final plan of action, but I'm sure you'll both be back home in no time."

A gentle smile tugged at Elizabeth's mouth, glad that Landry had subtly acknowledged that Earth was no longer her home. Not many people from Earth understood that. "Thank you, Hank," she said with warmth, giving him the dimpled smile that she remembered well from her college days as being one that could bend any professor to her will. "I'm sure that everyone will work as quickly as possible."

Apparently, it still worked. The General gave a gruff little huff, but that couldn't hide the softening of his posture. "I'll make sure to tell them to make it snappy," he promised, shaking his head a little. Then, he turned to John. "Colonel Sheppard, you wouldn't happen to be familiar with a Captain Amelia Lattimer, would you?"

Curious, Elizabeth turned to her military commander as well, observing quietly as he visibly brightened at the question.

"Captain? She was only a Lieutenant last time I saw her."

Landry's bushy eyebrows knitted themselves together, as if he couldn't quite connect John's words with reality. "She was recruited into the SGC three months ago, but she was offworld with SG-15 until yesterday evening, when heard from Carolyn that the two of you had arrived from the Pegasus. She's been requesting to see you, but I told her you'd be unavailable due to meetings today before you left. Now though…" He trailed off, and John didn't hesitate to pick up on the thought.

"I've got a bit of free time," he laughed. "I'd love to see her. Where are her quarters?"

"I'll have someone escort you there," the General promised, waving over an SF. "And Dr. Weir, the VIP quarters aren't far from the BOQ. Would it be too much trouble if you shared a guide?"

"Not at all," Elizabeth returned smoothly, trying to hide her curiosity over this Captain Lattimer and actually succeeding. It wasn't really an issue though, because John was chatting to the marine that was to take them to their respective destinations, ahead of the man and already halfway out the door.

Frowning, Elizabeth nodded her goodbye to Landry and got up to follow.

"You bastard! Weren't you supposed to be gone by two hours ago?" the woman cried angrily upon opening the door.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows from her position of an awkward few meters behind John. She hadn't wanted to stay and meet Captain Lattimer, uncomfortable with the idea for reasons she hadn't yet determined, and had told John that she was tired. But he had given her those puppy eyes that she couldn't ever resist, so she agreed to stay and let him introduce them.

However, Elizabeth hadn't anticipated that 'introduce' would include yelling.

"Watch your mouth, airman, or I'll put my boot so far up your ass that you'll be tasting Pegasus Galaxy!" John barked out in return, a sly smirk twisting out over his face.

The surprisingly short woman (at only about 5'2'') whom Elizabeth assumed was Lattimer grinned impishly as well, white teeth flashing, and brushed a strand of long blonde hair out of her face. She was very pretty, Elizabeth thought, with a round, cheerful face, a mop of loosely braided blonde tresses, and large, sparkling blue eyes. She was obviously dressed for comfort, decked out in a worn pair of BDU pants and a white tank top, but it was obvious that she had an excellent figure, and she couldn't have been much older than thirty, youth still shining out from her features. Leaning casually against the doorframe, grin still firmly plastered in place, the Captain suddenly lost her aggression in the blink of an eye. "You wouldn't happen to be a hallucination that's the result of a psychic breakdown, would you, Bo Peep, sir?" she drawled casually.

John winced. "Mimi, I thought we agreed never to speak of that name again!" he whined, placing a hand on his chest as if she had wounded him. "You never let me call you Streak!"

A slow, lazy grin spread across Lattimer's features. "Fair enough, sir. A fresh face for a fresh start," she conceded briefly before reaching over and pulling John into a tight hug, which he returned.

Still playing the part of uncomfortable observer perfectly, Elizabeth wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation, or the nicknames. If she had to guess, she would assume that the strange nicknames were their pilot call-signs, a rather amusing tradition that she had witnessed among the younger Air Force members of her expedition, but had never thought to ask John about. As for the general speech patterns… well, she had never heard anyone that wasn't from Atlantis's A-team speak to John in anything close to this manner. But to be fair, she knew next to nothing about his life before the expedition, aside from what was detailed in his file. It made her question if she knew him at all, and that was a bitter pill to take, no matter which way she looked at it.

After a long moment, John and Captain Lattimer disengaged, the woman whispering something to him as they did so, making him laugh openly. The moment passed quickly however, and Lattimer turned her curious eyes onto Elizabeth, who was seriously considering just walking away. She clearly didn't belong here: at a reunion between two very good friends who hadn't seen each other in years, and she was suddenly reminded of the phrase 'third wheel'.

"John, who's your friend?" the blonde woman asked, coy grin still slapped on her face and chastising the man with a light swat on the arm. "You brought her here and never introduced me!"

Elizabeth quickly pulled herself together from her obvious discomfort and into the mold of pleasantly blank diplomacy, default smile plastered across her face. It wouldn't do for John's friend to see the sudden surge of bitterness that swept through her at the sight of just how well she seemed to know her military commander. Certainly it was childish, but Elizabeth had been under the impression that she knew John very well, and she found herself harboring a certain resentment towards the woman who had shown her in all of two minutes that this wasn't true, even if she didn't deserve it.

John, turning in time to see her close off, blinked at this reaction, but didn't say anything about her sudden bout of professionalism. Instead, he did as Lattimer asked and introduced them. "Mimi, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is Amelia," he said cordially, standing in between them and a little off to the side while shooting Elizabeth a curious glance.

Elizabeth ignored him, shaking Lattimer's hand politely. "It's very nice to meet you, Captain Lattimer," she told her through her fixed smile, still managing to sound and appear fairly amicable.

"Call me Mimi," Lattimer instructed with a wink. "It's nice to meet you as well, Elizabeth…"

"Weir. Dr. Elizabeth Weir," Elizabeth finished for her, hearing the question that Lattimer had imbued her statement with and responding accordingly.

The shorter woman's bright blue eyes widened. "I've read through a lot of Atlantis's mission reports, ma'am, looking for John. It really is an honor to meet you."

"Yes, well, I'm sure any mission reports that include me aren't as exciting as those that include John, though I thank you anyways," Elizabeth demurred, dropping the other woman's hand. "John's never mentioned you, but I'm honored to meet anyone who's a friend of his," she added, mentally scolding herself for wanting to behave childishly, and assuring herself that John Sheppard was a great judge of character. So was Elizabeth –it was something they had in common—and it was for this reason that she knew that Captain Lattimer wasn't a bad person, as much as she wished that were true.

In fact, it was knowing just the opposite that made Elizabeth wish she was anywhere but with her and John.

"I have a secret stash of M&Ms and coffee from the science labs just in here. Would you two like to come in and party with me?" Lattimer offered, shooting the both of them a winsome smile.

"You had me drooling at M&Ms, Mimi," John laughed, throwing an arm around her small shoulders, like he used to do to Lieutenant Ford when he was screwing around with him, and jostling her playfully. Then, he turned to a hesitating Elizabeth and shot her the puppy eyes, flagrant in his good humor. "Come on 'Lizabeth, just for a little while?" he wheedled.

Elizabeth had opened her mouth to acquiesce when she suddenly thought better of it, realizing how out of her element she was with a pair of pilots who were old friends and knowing that she most likely had very little in common with Lattimer. Instead, she flashed her best apologetic grin. "Sorry John, Captain Lattimer. I'm afraid I have to use this opportunity to catch up on a little paperwork. Do have fun, though," she said coolly, already starting to back her way down the grey cement hallway to where the marine had told her the VIP quarters were.

John didn't really buy it. His expression flicked from one of juvenile happiness to one of concern in an instant, a loss for which Elizabeth felt badly. Letting go of Lattimer, he quickly moved to her side and invaded her personal space so that they could talk more privately. "Is everything all right, Elizabeth?" he asked quietly. "I know you're tired, but you love M&Ms. Especially the red ones."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him, wondering how he knew that (aside from guessing, by observing her pervasive propensity for that color).

For his part, John appeared sheepish. "I saw you sorting a bag by color a couple of weeks ago and setting all the red ones aside. Your mom told me you save the red ones for when you're having a bad day," he explained.

Deciding to talk about what a strange thing that was to know about your boss at a later date, Elizabeth just shot him a fake smile. "John, I'm fine. Really," she promised. "I'm tired, and you have an old friend who obviously missed you. I don't need to be here. I know I promised to stay close when we were offworld, but I'm pretty sure the SGC personnel will keep any hostile aliens away from us long enough for you to have a personal moment."

All right. Weak response. But Elizabeth couldn't be the third wheel any longer.

"I have work to do, Colonel Sheppard," she reminded him firmly, "and you have a vacation to enjoy. I'll see you tomorrow." Before he could respond, Elizabeth fled at a dignified walk, nodding a socially acceptable goodbye to a frowning Lattimer as she went.

Taking a long draught from the wine glass clutched between her chilly hands, Elizabeth cast a furtive glance at the clunky black alarm clock hunkered down on the plain bedside table of the room she had been assigned, almost afraid to read it. She was relieved when it only said 1:00am. She had judged by her own exhaustion that it was later, now doubly glad that somebody had been thoughtful enough to leave a bottle of wine and some glasses in her room. She hardly ever drank when she was in Atlantis, and it was nice to get the opportunity now, despite the unusual hour. With a small sigh, she returned to the file in her hand, intrigued. She had brought a lot of the work she had to catch up on along with her in a quaint briefcase, and since the delay in her return to Atlantis the day before, she had made her way through all of them. Mission reports, science team reports, materials acquisition requests, personnel transfer requests, budget assessments, and even the odd personal project that someone wanted her to look through. She hadn't given this particular geologist's report a second glance at first, but when Elizabeth had ventured down to the SGC cafeteria to grab some of the blue jell-o that Colonel Carter had insisted was the best dessert served there, she had seen something that had set off a tiny spark in her mind that was so occupied with not thinking about her best friend, Colonel Sheppard. It was a simple thing, really: just some civilian scientist with a rare streak of fun. The admittedly non-remarkable woman had been standing just in front of Elizabeth in line, and Elizabeth's attention had immediately been drawn to her unusual hairpiece. The woman had the short, cropped hairstyle that was popular among many of the military personnel, but a very small area of her hair had been knotted into a thin braid, into which was looped a single green glass bead. It was unusual, and simple.

Which brought her back to the geologist's report that she now had in her hand. Normally, although Elizabeth would never admit it out loud, she really didn't care about the geology of Lantea's mainland when she had much bigger problems, like multiple races of aliens trying to kill them, to consider. So initially, she really didn't have much interest in the stone, dubbed 'Lapis Lantea' by the geologist who had written the report, which he had discovered in the Ancient equivalent of a landfill on the mainland. It had already been determined that the dumping ground for Ancient control crystals was of no use to the Atlantis Expedition, all of the broken equipment having been ground into dust and assimilated into the earth at least 10,000 years ago, most of them even longer than that. Elizabeth had no interest in what wasn't useful. She didn't really have more than a mild interest in the fact that the control crystal dust had undergone geological changes that she didn't understand, resulting in a lapis lazuli-like stone that was a deep, rich purple in color and filled with seams of gleaming gold material that let of a weak glow when near Ancient technology. That, the geologist said, was the crystal dust. But again, Elizabeth didn't really care.

That is, until the bead in the hair of the woman Elizabeth had seen in the cafeteria had reminded her of a photograph of a bead that one of the Athosians had created out of the Lapis Lantea that the geologist had included in his report. Shined and polished properly, the Lapis Lantea was actually remarkably pretty, and entirely unique.

In light of her new idea, Elizabeth found that she suddenly did care about geology. Pulling out the small notepad she carried with her for convenience, she carefully wrote in her neat print a note to remind herself to speak with Dr. McKay, Dr. Brenn (the geologist) and Teyla about putting it into action.

A knock on the door startled her so much that she broke off the tip of her pencil on the little pad.

Wondering who could possibly be up at this hour besides herself, Elizabeth pulled a robe over her rumpled pajama bottoms and black sports bra and carefully opened the door. Much to her surprise, it was John who stood there. Elizabeth literally hadn't spoken with him for over twenty-four hours, as she had been kept in additional meetings or medical tests all day, and when she did have a free moment to track him down, Captain Lattimer had always found him first, and she didn't want to intrude, because John always seemed so happy to be around her. In a very big way, Elizabeth missed her earpiece. She had often found her hand straying to where it usually was, intending to talk with whomever had crossed her mind, only to belatedly remember that the SGC had no such system. In Atlantis, she would have been able to reach John at any time of the day or night, if she had need to, as long as he wasn't offworld. The forced separation was disconcerting, and she found that she missed him.

Although that didn't explain why he was knocking on her door in the wee hours of the morning, in plain BDU pants and black t-shirt.

"J-John! What are you doing here?" Elizabeth spluttered in surprise, suddenly very aware of her disheveled appearance. (Bedhead happened. Even to the civilian leader of Atlantis.) "Why are you still awake?"

For his part, John appeared uncomfortable, shifting a bit on his feet, but keeping firm eye contact. "I saw your light from under your door," he admitted. "I was awake, and you are too, and I didn't get a chance to see you today. Yesterday," he corrected, glancing at his watch. "So… hello, I guess," he concluded.

Despite herself, Elizabeth snorted in amusement. "Hello to you too," she replied easily, feeling newly lighthearted. Calmer after her initial surprise, she opened her door wider and stood aside. "Would you care to come in, partner in insomnia?" she offered.

Giving her a smile, John stepped inside and leaned up casually against the wall. As she closed the door, Elizabeth found herself idly wondering how bad this would look were anyone to see them, and she bit her lip nervously before deciding that no one who's opinion she valued would be up this late anyways. Carefully, she gathered all of the papers that she had scattered across her bed, stacking them neatly on the floor by its foot and unceremoniously sitting cross-legged on the newly cleared surface. "You can sit down, John. It's too late for anyone to be standing up," Elizabeth informed him, patting the cheap bedding at her side and re-gathering her wine glass, along with one she poured for John. "Whoever stocked the snacks in this room left cheap Pinot Noir instead of cheap coffee. Nice of them, but they obviously don't know me very well, do they?"

"What would you do without caffeine?" John wondered aloud, accepting the offered glass and sitting down next to her.

Elizabeth didn't dignify that with a response, simply sipping from her glass and studying him over its rim with sleepy green eyes as he mirrored her actions. Deciding to change the subject, she asked quickly, "Have you enjoyed enduring copious medical tests to see if we're infected with alien life forms?"

"Lam's worse than Carson," John whined in response, pointing to the band-aid in the crook of his elbow where the doctor had drawn blood.

"She keeps telling me to eat more too, just like Carson," Elizabeth admitted, smirking. "She and Carson seem to be sharing a brain."

Laughing quietly, John agreed with her. Sobering slightly, he then added, "It's not the same, though."

Elizabeth had to agree. It seemed that he missed Atlantis and its people just as much as she did. "No, it isn't." They sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping at the cheap wine and gazing at the beige walls, so different from their home. After a while, a grin started to quirk the edge of Elizabeth's mouth as she thought back to the last conversation she had with him.

"What?" John asked suspiciously, regarding the smile as dangerous.

"I just got the joke," Elizabeth admitted. "Captain Lattimer called you Bo Peep. Little Bo Peep was a shepherd, because she herded sheep. You're Sheppard," she giggled, in disbelief that she hadn't caught the pun sooner. It wasn't as if it were very original.

Grimacing, John ran a hand through his perpetually unruly hair. "Yeah, one of my instructors in flight school thought he was being clever," he told her. "I hated it, but that was the call sign that stuck. People still used it when I met Mimi, so she likes to tease me with it. She never lets me use it, but her call sign was Streak. Apparently, some of the other recruits stole her clothes while she was in the shower on the first day, so she walked right back into the women's bunker, buck naked, and went about her business like nothing happened until someone took pity on her and gave them back."

All right, that was pretty funny, Elizabeth had to admit, and she burst into a long peal of laughter. "How did you meet Captain Lattimer?" Elizabeth finally asked once she had recovered, downing the rest of her wine and giving John a soft smile.

Shooting her a long-suffering look, John polished off his glass as well, then reached for the bottle so he could refill the both of them. "I actually tried to pick her up in one of the bars near the base I was stationed at, years ago," he admitted, shaking his head. "She played me for free drinks for about half an hour until she finally felt bad about it, apologized, and invited me to join her and her girlfriend for dinner."

Elizabeth did a mental double-take. "I thought she was an ex-girlfriend of yours or something!" she spluttered indignantly.

John just laughed at her reaction. "Don't ask, don't tell, remember?" he prompted. "Although," he revised, "Amelia has always taken it as more of an 'Don't ask, 'cause I'll tell' kind of deal. You know she actually asked me if you were single?"

"I hope you told her that Atlantis is my one and only lesbian love," Elizabeth said stoically, tipping her glass at him threateningly but with a spark of humor in her eyes that was not lost on her companion.

John cocked his head at her. "Atlantis is a girl?"

"She's a ship, isn't she? Besides, she's far to pretty to be a boy."

"Fair enough."

Elizabeth sat back against the headboard smugly, stifling a yawn. She was tired, but enjoying herself far too much to go to sleep. "Would you like to watch a movie, John?" she suggested, plunging her hand into the drawer in the bedside table in search for the TV remote.

"Are… are you sure that's all right?" he asked hesitantly.

"No. But it's better to ask forgiveness than permission," Elizabeth quipped, pulling her robe more tightly around her as she got up and walked over to the tiny television set, beside which was a small stack of DVDs. "Uh… Men in Black, Predator, Total Recall, and… and Finding Nemo?" Shaking her head at the strange sense of humor of whoever had chosen the films (She understood the joke of the science-fiction films, but not how the inclusion of a children's animated movie was in any way relevant.) Elizabeth turned back to John, lips pursed and eyebrows raised in a question.

"Finding Nemo," he answered immediately, kicking off his shoes and sprawling himself across the bed. Seeing the disbelieving look Elizabeth had directed at him, John sat halfway up and demanded, "What? I look like I'm twelve. The least I deserve is leeway to watch kid movies."

Throwing her hands up in mock surrender, Elizabeth acquiesced and began to fumble with the DVD player, wrinkling her nose in concentration. She wasn't quite sure why it was taking more effort on her part to figure out how an Earth-made piece of simple technology worked than it did a 10,000+ year old Ancient computer, but Elizabeth decided to blame it on the combination of the late hour and the wine. However, she soon found the right buttons to hit, and padded back to the bed, one side of which John had vacated to give her her space. "I must say, I never missed the incessant commercials," she commented mildly as she curled up in her spot, frowning at the pushy advertising and punching at the menu button.

"That's one good thing about not having TV," John agreed. "No commercials, and above all, no political ads."

"Amen," Elizabeth muttered, before settling down to enjoy the movie. A sleepy contentment filled her as she watched the colorful characters flit across the grainy screen, feeling warm and safe and ready to let go of everything. She didn't last thirty minutes before she was sound asleep.

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