Hey-o! How's it going, my pretties? I myself am not appreciating my chemistry class, but that's neither here nor there.

I think you're going to love this chapter. I was in a really strange mood when I wrote it, and it turned out pretty crazy and playful. I also have a little cameo of my darling Vala, whom I adore! Let's just hope that it all makes sense, because I did do this pretty late at night...

Enjoy yourselves, and PLEASE review! (One day I'm going to run out of ideas! What will you do then, hmm?)

Compromising Positions: Chapter Ten
Of Plots and Kissing

As per usual, it was a nightmare that started Elizabeth into the waking world with a light gasp, although she couldn't remember anything about it other than being afraid, this time. Blinking into the semi-darkness that surrounded her, the woman took a moment to calm her racing heart. The movie had long since ended, and the screen once again displayed the menu page, complete with brightly colored coral and bubble noises, that cast a wan light over her quarters. A quick flick of the eyes to the clock by her head told her that it was a little after five o'clock in the morning.

Now feeling considerably calmer, as well as hazily warm and not-quite-awake (She hadn't had her coffee yet.) Elizabeth attempted to stretch her sleep-stiff muscles. She was greatly surprised to find that she immediately encountered an obstacle to this motion, which happened to be John Sheppard, fast asleep. Then again, she had fallen asleep. It was unfair of her to assume that John would not. No, what really bothered her was the fact that he was spooned very tightly against her, one arm thrown possessively over her waist and the other tucked under his head: enveloping her with a pleasant warmth and the clean, musky smell that was uniquely John. Recognizing the position as a very intimate one that just-friends Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir should not be indulging in, under any circumstances, Elizabeth felt herself blush ruby red.

What was worse, it was now a time of day that people would be up and about all parts of the SGC, not just the science labs. John would be seen emerging from her quarters in the early hours of the morning.

What had she done? This was bad. Very bad. As in, 'they-already-think-I'm-compromised-so-let's-give-them-another-excuse-to-fire-me' type bad.

Well, there was nothing she could do to rectify the situation now, Elizabeth thought bitterly. As it was, the best she could do for the both of them would be to stay quiet, and let John sleep a little longer. He thought quickly on his feet, but Elizabeth knew that if he was tired enough to fall asleep in his boss' bed, he was far more exhausted than he outwardly seemed, and she would need that mind of his operating at one hundred percent if they were going to get out of this mess relatively unscathed.

Resigned, Elizabeth closed her eyes again, forcing herself to relax. Panic never induced clear thinking. Instead, she chose to work on one of the basic meditation techniques that Teyla had been gracious enough to show her, attempting to focus only on the pulse of her own heartbeat and the quiet rush of her steady breathing. Admittedly, having John still so near was very distracting, but against her better judgment, Elizabeth decided to tolerate his proximity. She would never admit it out loud, but the way in which John held her so tenderly, even in his sleep, was a balm to an ache she had never really acknowledged existed. There was little harm, she argued feebly to herself, in making the best out of a bad situation and simply enjoying the moment that she knew would come to a not-so-pretty end. For now, Elizabeth silently decided, leaning delicately into John, she was content to lie still and pretend that all of the horrible things in two galaxies did not exist.

Elizabeth wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when John began to stir, not really waking her fully, but pulling her slowly back into slow-minded awareness. Not much had changed about their respective body positions since she had last woken, although Elizabeth had somehow managed to snuggle even further into the strong, solid warmth that was supporting her back, (something that she was not pleased to discover). Somewhat mortified, Elizabeth's nerve failed her, and she pretended to still be fully unconscious and allow John to wake up on his own, rather than rouse herself and then him.

Although admittedly, she was really very curious to see how the man would handle the situation.

She didn't have to wait long. The soft hum of contentment that she could feel emanating from his chest told her that he had awakened, but the stiffening of his body in shock told her when exactly he realized where he was, and what he was doing.

All was silent in the room, aside from the soft fish-tank noises that the TV was still emitting. Elizabeth could practically hear the gears in John's head whirring, more likely than not thinking along the same lines that she had when she had first awoken. She sympathized, but was more afraid of the awkwardness that would ensure if she interrupted his thought process now than she was of letting the Colonel think, (always a dangerous pastime). It took a few minutes, but eventually, Elizabeth felt him relax against her. They remained this way for a few moments more, but much to her surprise, Elizabeth soon felt a rough hand gently ghost down the length of her arm, and she barely suppressed a shiver. He was only doing this because he thought she was asleep, but still… Self-control now spent, Elizabeth was then unable to contain the involuntary whimper that escaped her when John removed his arm and tried to pull away, exposing the bare skin of her lower back and belly, which was not protected by her comfortable sports bra or the robe she had been wearing, which was now tangled loosely around her waist, to the frigid air in the room. It was, to say the least, a very uncomfortable sensation, and she weakly attempted to scoot back into her heat source.

John was having none of this though. His hands moved with surprising speed to firmly grasp her hips and hold her away from him, although he allowed her upper body to move without resistance. "No you don't, evil little bottom," he muttered quietly enough that she almost didn't catch it. Then, raising his voice a little, he called evenly, "Hey, 'Lizabeth? 'Lizabeth, wake up."

Elizabeth groaned in defeat, and opened her eyes to face the accusatory red stare of the clock on the bedside table. Seven thirty. She didn't have another meeting scheduled until nine: didn't have to be Dr. Weir until nine. That was the only good news. The bad news? This was most likely not a dream. "John…" she asked in a voice husky with sleep, but still struck with incredulity. "Did you just call me an evil little bottom?" She would have turned over to look at him, but his hands kept her firmly in place, so she made do with blinking blearily at the wall instead.

"Well… not exactly, no," came the familiar evasive response.

Raising one eyebrow, Elizabeth waited. She knew that he could hear her cynicism in her silence.

Sure enough, the man relented. "You just have one."

"You think my bottom is evil?" she questioned, amused. Carefully, she rolled over to face him, just in time to receive his own raised eyebrow.

"At this time in the morning and in that position? Definitely," he shot back.

Understanding, Elizabeth turned a little pink. "Oh," was all she could manage.

"Yeah," came the short reply.

Awkward.

"So, any ideas on how not to get fired, at this point?" Elizabeth tried feebly.

Giving her a grateful look, which was soon replaced by a pensive one, John slowly shook his head, absently tucking the sheet higher up around Elizabeth's waist, seeing that her entire upper body had erupted into goosebumps. "Not any good ones," he confessed. "I mean, I could always try to clean myself up here, so I can leave and pretend that I was just visiting, which I actually was in the first place, making it not technically a lie." This was followed by a semi-amused lopsided grin.

Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously. "That could either work beautifully or backfire horribly, if they check the surveillance tapes," she pointed out. "How likely do you think they are to fall for it? At least until we get back to Atlantis."

John shrugged. "No idea," he pronounced.

"Very helpful," Elizabeth muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her hair.

"Hey, 'Lizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"You're good at pillow talk."

Elizabeth hit him in the arm with a slipper.

Much to Elizabeth's chagrin, she hadn't been able to come up with a better idea. It was cramped, rushed, and awkward, but they both managed to share the little adjoining bathroom, each taking a turn in the shower while the other sat awkwardly outside in the bedroom, waiting for the other to finish. Not an ideal situation, admittedly, but they made do.

John was the first to leave, a set of arbitrary files clutched in one hand as Elizabeth shooed him from the room with a none-too-subtle admonishment for him to get his paperwork done on time next time. Hearing this, a passing pair of marines chortled in amusement and sympathy, and John, rolling his eyes, joined them for the trek to the cafeteria. Just as they had planned, Elizabeth did not follow for another twenty minutes, but rather bided her time and tidied up the room. If all went well, they would return to Atlantis sometime that night, and she wanted to have her bags packed and ready. With how busy she was to be that day, she doubted she'd have much time to pack. Even less to properly digest what had happened that morning.

Fortunately for Elizabeth, her predetermined departure time arrived just as her stomach started to growl. Straightening her ruffled red blouse and black dress pants (One always tried to look their best when dealing with the IOA.) she took one last peek into the mirror before taking her leave and making a beeline for the cafeteria. She was about halfway there before she encountered a woman who she recognized as one Vala Mal Doran, whom she had briefly met when SG-1 had visited Atlantis. Smiling happily, Elizabeth opened her mouth to say hello, but her words caught in her throat as she realized how shifty the woman looked. That, and the fact that she had a red welt across one side of her face which was rapidly bruising into a black eye.

For her part, Vala appeared inordinately relieved to see her. However, having heard a few tales of her exploits, Elizabeth just narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Vala, what are you—"

With surprising strength for someone her size, the woman grabbed her shoulders and pressed her up against one of the cold grey sides of the hallway. "I'm sorry, Dr. Weir. It is very good to see you again -strange alien beauty treatments suit you, really- but there's no time to explain. I need to hide in plain sight!" she exclaimed in her pleasantly fruity accent, casting her glittering eyes around in a hunted manner.

Squirming against Vala's grip, not at all enjoying the sensation of being pinned bodily to the cold wall by a woman who was obviously very comfortable with unnecessary physical contact, Elizabeth tried again. "Vala, I—"

Again, she wasn't able to finish. Elizabeth barely had time to register the appearance of two very angry-looking marines rounding the corner before Vala pressed her body flat up against hers and kissed her full on the mouth.

Not what she was expecting. At all.

For several moments, Elizabeth was too shocked to protest. However, once she had gathered her scrambled thoughts, she found herself unable to move, as Vala had effectively trapped her, and despite the situation, Elizabeth didn't really want to hurt her. (Although, considering the fact that Vala was an incredibly accomplished fighter, and Elizabeth was not, that outcome was extremely unlikely.)

Thankfully, the uncomfortable moment didn't last long, as Vala was pulled away, rather roughly, by one of the marines. "Just what do you think you're doing?" the man demanded of the raven-haired woman, pulling her around to face him and his dark-complexioned buddy as Elizabeth stood rooted in place, not sure what was happening or how to feel about being spontaneously kissed, then ignored.

"Minding my own business, just like you should be doing. Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to interrupt a couple?" Vala shot back saucily, maneuvering herself between the men and Elizabeth in a strange show of protectiveness. "Mind telling me why you did so?"

Large fists clenching angrily at his sides, the fair-haired marine that had spoken, taller and broader than either of the girls, but slightly smaller than his friend, looked like he wanted to hit the alien woman. "You beat up Dovritsky and Shelton," he growled.

The other one clearly echoed the hostile sentiment. "No one messes with our team."

"They messed with my team first," Vala shot back quietly, drawing herself up and lifting her chin. "I do not regret defending him." It was only from the unique vantage point of being behind her and so close that Elizabeth saw the trembling in her left leg and the slight shift of weight as she favored it. Clearly, between this and the blow to her face, the tussle with these marines' teammates hadn't left Vala unscathed.

"Stand down marines," Elizabeth commanded, stepping out from behind the woman.

"No offence miss, but this doesn't concern civilian scientists," one of them said, neither of them taking their eyes off of Vala.

"Consider it a direct order from a superior," Elizabeth said coldly. "Stand. Down."

"I would listen to her, boys," came the drawl from the other end of the hall. "I don't take kindly to grunts like you threatening my friends. Neither does General Landry."

It was Cameron. "You have two days' mandatory leave to cool your heels," he told them casually. "Starting now."

Recognizing defeat, the two marines, scowling, took their leave. Vala stood strong until they rounded the corner, but sagged against the wall once they had stomped out of sight. Once again unsure of what was happening, Elizabeth just stood rooted in place.

"Vala, haven't I told you that you've got to stop fighting?" Cameron scolded, going to her side, hands on hips. "You can't keep taking on whole SG teams by yourself."

Fixing her bright eyes upon him, the woman huffed a stray strand of her wild hair out of her face. "I had to, Mitchell. They were saying cruel things about Daniel again. I... I know he can take care of himself, but he wasn't even there to hear the bloody morons and I just couldn't… I had to do it."

For a few moments, the Cameron eyed her, but eventually just sighed in acceptance. "I'm sorry you had to see this, Dr. Weir," he apologized, running a hand over his eyes.

"I understand," Elizabeth admitted, tilting her head to one side. "I was… very startled—" Vala grinned roguishly. "—but I understand."

Cameron shot her a grateful look before turning back to Vala. "You remember the deal, from last time this happened," he prompted sternly, grinning a little as she scowled at him. "Go on. Infirmary. Now."

Curiously, Elizabeth watched in fascination as the woman lurched angrily off of the wall and limped off down the hallway. "What was the deal?" she queried.

"That next time she instigated civil war between the SG teams defending Jackson's honor, she had to go be punished by Carolyn. And I get to tell Jackson all about what she's done." The impish grin that lit Cameron's face was priceless.

And Elizabeth, seeing Mitchell's diabolical plan, laughed.

"Elizabeth, we need to talk before you go in there," General Landry called from behind her, making her jump.

"I'm sorry?" she blurted, fork still loaded with the omelet she had been about to stick into her mouth. Her attention drifting elsewhere while she ate, Elizabeth hadn't quite been prepared for civilized conversation when Landry had approached.

As if sensing this, the General gave her an indulgent smile as he seated himself next to her, close enough to carry on a private conversation, shielded by the noise of the semi-crowded cafeteria. "The game's changed," he told her, seriousness returning in an instant. "We've got a new player."

Elizabeth gazed at the man, concerned. She knew exactly what game she was referring to. It was the game around which her livelihood centered. "Will we still be able to go home?" she asked urgently, fearing the answer.

"That's up to you," Landry answered. "Didn't you wonder why the IOA agreed so easily to your return?"

Elizabeth paused for a moment, and then sucked in a breath. "The military's making a push for control," she realized aloud. "I'm the best the IOA can do."

Nodding, Landry leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice. "General Nikolai Tavritsky. He's your new enemy here," he said quickly and earnestly. "He's by-the-book, new to the program, and a puppet for higher-ups of rather dubious nature to take control. He'll go after you, and go after you hard. But you can take him, if you're prepared."

Feeling ice creep through her limbs, Elizabeth took a moment to consider this new, vague bit of information before nodding determinedly. "Thank you, Hank," she said honestly, truly meaning it. After all, he was a General: and as a General, Landry's first loyalty was to the military. He was breaking several unspoken rules by helping her even this much, and she was incredibly grateful.

"Don't mention it," came his reply. He too fell into stoicism, although he did break it long enough to shoot her a small wink. "And good luck." With that, he left her to prepare.

"You have been compromised, Dr. Weir. There's no two ways about it. Would you put all of Atlantis in danger out of selfishness?" General Tavritsky hissed, palms flat against the polished table. "You're a danger to the entire Stargate Program. To be honest, it's completely unfathomable to me how you could have ever possibly been cleared for return to one of Earth's most valuable assets!" The man's craggy white eyebrows slithered over his slick brow as he stared Elizabeth down. The cowed members of the IOA sat silently in their seats, like so many lifeless black and white statues. Both General Landry and General O'Neill were present as well, but they too did not react, knowing that this was a battle that they could not fight for her.

But Elizabeth, being Elizabeth, refused to crack. Calmly, she fixed her cool green gaze on the stout General and considered him. "Are the assurances of Dr. Beckett, Dr. Keller, and Dr. Lam not enough to assure you that I pose no threat to my expedition, and by extension, Earth?" she enquired mildly.

"Our medical staff can only test for so much. You of all people should know that," the white-haired General pointed out, taking his seat again rather smugly.

"Yes, what with nothing out of the ordinary occurring in my brain chemistry or physiology (aside from the obvious), my genetic profile remaining a perfect match, and absolutely no traces of any foreign organisms or technology having been found in my body, I can see that our doctors' methods display both stunning ignorance and incompetence," Elizabeth shot back snarkily, although in a tone so even and seemingly respectful that she was certain it was maddening. "What do you theorize happened to me, General Tavritsky? You are obviously a well-informed man. I am not a clone, nor am I a za'tarc. I carry no alien viruses or bacteria in my blood, and am not symptomatic in any way of anything other than what comes naturally with youth. Pray tell, what has happened to me for which I should be condemned."

This, at least, engendered a reaction from the last-minute panel of IOA and ambassadors that had been hastily assembled to decide upon Elizabeth and John's fate. They stirred and tittered, sharing significant looks amongst themselves as they eyed Tavritsky expectantly.

Much to Elizabeth's grudging admiration, the General did not rise to the bait. "You are an intelligent woman yourself, Dr. Weir. You know as well as any of us that stranger things have happened in the two galaxies than something subtle slipping through a medical exam," he grunted.

Elizabeth dipped her head in acquiescence. "Indeed I do," she ceded. "But in my experience, which is, I remind you, far greater than yours, it is never wise to deter a potential advantage, no matter which form it may take. Like it or not, General, Atlantis is my command. Mine and Colonel Sheppard's." At this point, Elizabeth's voice was gaining more assertiveness than it had previously carried. "Atlantis isn't some military base, where everything under the sun moves back and forth like clockwork. Atlantis is a city, though more importantly, Atlantis is a way of life. We fight, we win, we assist, we protect, and we never leave our people behind. I admit that yes, there is risk, sending us back. However, you have done all you can to ensure that that risk does not exist, and on the off chance that we were compromised, I trust in my people's ability to handle and contain the situation effectively. It's my turn to now point out that you, more than anyone, should know what leadership means: especially to a coterie so close as Atlantis. Is potentially averting an unlikely mishap, the likes of which we have dealt with before, worth tearing down what we've built with the blood of our people and years of hard work? Between the two of us, who's proposing to do the most damage?"

Finally drawing an end to her long-winded tirade, of which Elizabeth personally thought Mr. Woolsey would be proud, Elizabeth sat back and regarded the room with a mild curiosity that was completely belied by the fire in her snapping green eyes. The IOA appeared both simultaneously disturbed and triumphant, Tavritsky looked about ready to strangle her, and Generals Landry and O'Neill appeared carefully neutral. (Although Elizabeth could have sworn that one or both of them had given her a quick wink.)

She knew well enough that she had just won her and John's places in Atlantis back from limbo. That fact filled her with a warm satisfaction, although she had enough tact not to show it. Later, she decided, would be the time for personal celebration. Perhaps a bar of chocolate would become involved.

However, a seed of doubt burrowed into her. It had been the right thing to do: to prevent a military takeover of Atlantis. But… what if General Tavritsky had been right?

Elizabeth didn't think that she could survive anyone else dying because of her. Not after Montega, Miller, Sean, and Beyermaltze.

God, if she really was a danger… Elizabeth didn't know what she'd do.

Her mother had always told her that she would have days that simply defied everything a normal day was supposed to be. This piece of wisdom was always accompanied by her father quipping that, "Shit happens." To her credit, Elizabeth had always believed them.

This was turning out to be one of those days.

On the trek back to the VIP quarters, not only was Elizabeth nearly crushed when trying to help a man –she vaguely remembered his face from her time in command of the SGC, and a passing 'gate technician had called him Siler—who appeared to have, somehow, trapped himself beneath several heavy crates of bananas in the middle of the hallway leading into the 'gate room, but she was also witness to some rather strange occurrences. She saw Dr. Lee being chased through an entire floor by a Dalmatian, Samantha Carter walking by in a smoking lab coat and blonde hair blown straight back from her face, looking as chipper and cheerful as if someone had just handed her a bouquet of flowers, an open door to what appeared to be a room full of assorted cell phones mounted to the walls and hooked up to a larger machine, which was painted an obnoxious yellow, and even caught a glimpse of Daniel and Vala outside of Vala's quarters. She was crying, and looked very upset, as did Daniel, although he appeared a little angry. Elizabeth was about to go ask what was wrong when he said something, Vala replied, and they both locked themselves in a passionate kiss and blundered into the room.

Elizabeth decided that they were fine.

Remarkably, after a few very long minutes of walking (How she missed transporters!) Elizabeth made it into her room unscathed. For a few minutes, she simply stood there, enjoying the quiet, before rousing herself and moving to check everything over to make sure that all of her belongings were bundled into her little duffel. They were to depart to Atlantis that evening, and Elizabeth's heart was filled with swells of quiet happiness. Her time on Earth had been well enough, but she knew that nothing this planet had to offer could compare to the wonders of her home.

Well… perhaps coffee.

The moment that Elizabeth stepped from the Milky Way Galaxy into the Pegasus Galaxy, she was assaulted by the sudden cacophony of a multitude of cheers and shouts. She froze, startled at the sight of so many people in the control room, and was rewarded by John cannoning into her from behind as he rematerialized out of the Stargate.

Rather than start bickering with him immediately, Elizabeth just shot him an irritated glare (at which he gave her his best kicked puppy expression) and studiously returned her attention to what appeared to be half the expedition gathered in the control room. Together, small carry-on bags still held loosely in their hands, they watched as small celebrations began to cascade through the crowd. Everyone was smiling; scientists from the labs, chisel-jawed marines, kitchen staff, cleaning crew, technicians, engineers, and medical staff alike. Zelenka and Teyla were there, along with Rodney, Kate Heightmeyer, Sarah Evans, Carson, Jennifer Keller, Major Lorne, little Miko, and, of course, the ever-present Chuck and Amelia. Even Mr. Woolsey had shown up, looking simultaneously both amused and irritated with the open display of hooliganry that was probably a breach of some sort of obscure protocol. In the back, a line of about thirty female military members in full dress uniform snapped to attention, then grinned raucously and lifted a series of the plastic cafeteria trays above their heads on which they each had written a letter off "Welcome Home: Col. Sheppard & Dr. Weir" with what appeared to be either dried catsup or blood. Needless to say, Elizabeth chose to assume, for the sake of her own sanity, the former.

It was exactly this sort of controlled chaos that she had missed so fiercely during her short stay on Earth.

"Welcome home, 'Lizabeth," John murmured through the smile and wave he was lavishing upon their people.

Having long since joined him in waving hello, Elizabeth simply responded, "There's no place like it," before gladly accepting the embraces of her family.

Aaaaand we're done here. For this chapter, at least. ¿Les gustan, mis queridos? Review! :D

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