human behaviour

When John was told he was going on this totally cool mission as a reward for breaking both legs in Afghanistan, he thought maybe the mission was in Hawaii and he might be drinking out of a coconut while it was still being used as a bra. Instead, he was in a different galaxy, in the city of Atlantis and Sumner totally remembered him from the mission where he got shot in the butt.

"How's your ass?" Sumner asked.

"That was five years ago," John replied flatly.

Sumner laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I know. Still funny."

"That's why you recommended me for this, isn't it?"

Sumner looked serious. "I don't forget a man that took a bullet in the ass for me."

"Can't you forget the 'in the ass' part?"

Sumner was still serious. "No can do, soldier. Only a commie would forget that part. I'm no commie."

John nodded. "We're going to die here, aren't we?"

The answer came when people suddenly started spilling into the gate room with big guns and cool coats. John was aiming to fire, not distracted by the cool coats at all when something twisted past him, took his gun, elbowed him in the face and landed him on his ass.

After the twister passed and every member of the expedition lay on the ground without their weapons, a tall and muscular man strode into the room, looking sulky and morose, his hair in dreds and another one of those cool coats. From another corner, a woman approached him, short, but still attired in coolness.

"I said no casualties," she said with a bored look.

"They're not dead," the man replied as bored.

"Barely," McKay complained from somewhere.

The big man came up to John, arching an eyebrow as the woman came to his side. She said, "They have come from a long way. Eight symbols."

"Aliens," the man said, his gun making a scary sound. "I say we kill 'em'."

She sighed. "That's your answer to everything, Ronon."

"Fine, Teyla. You can teach them to meditate until they're bored to death," Ronon said.

She arched an eyebrow at him and he just smiled and leaned down to kiss her. A moment later the kiss became serious and she jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist as the other gunmen and women watched. Everyone watched in uncomfortable silence as they kissed with little panting breaths.

"Oh... get a room," McKay muttered somewhere, doing his best to get everyone killed.

"Uh...look, I hate to interrupt, it's a beautiful thing you've got going there, but we're peaceful explorers," John said, from here he was peacefully lying on the floor.

Ronon and Teyla stopped kissing to stare at John. Ronon said, "You go uninvited into people's homes?"

John scowled. "No."

"This is our city," Teyla said. "Our home. You were not invited."

"Well, we would've called ahead if we knew you were going to be in," John said slowly, offering what he thought was his most disarming smile.

Teyla stared at him, then she started to laugh. She nodded to someone and everyone was suddenly being prodded to their feet and pushed out of the gate room.

Teyla walked away with a sultry look. Ronon watched her and then watched John, stepping in front of John and mumbling. "You hitting on my wife?"

John looked horrified. "No. No, of course not."

"Isn't Sheppard gay?" someone mumbled somewhere.

"I am not gay!" Sheppard snapped at the voice, turning to see who might have made the accusation.

Ronon stepped closer. "You better be, or you might have an accident in the cells."

John swallowed nervously and grabbed Ford by the front of his visit. "Have you met my boyfriend, Ford?"

"Uh... hey," Ford said. "He's right, I'm his boyfriend." Then, quickly he added, "But I'm only gay for him!"

Ronon gave Ford a confused look and then turned back to John. He leaned forward and it looked as though he was going to scratch his head, only he pulled out a long knife and it disappeared above John's head. John heard a little swishy sound and a moment later, Ronon was showing him a lock of dark hair.

Ford gasped and said, "Oh man."

Sheppard's hand shot to his head and he felt the oddly uneven area where the hair was now flatter. He stared at Ronon.

"Next time, I'll cut off more," Ronon said, throwing the hair over his shoulder and stalking away in his stupid cool coat, with his stupid cool gun and hot wife.

John glared. This was going to be war. And he was totally hitting on the hot wife.

In Earth terms, it's November, but in Atlantis it's the middle of summer and almost everyone looks an uncomfortably flushed shade of uncomfortably flushed. The only person that seems unaffected is Teyla, so Sheppard and Rodney come to the conclusion that she's a cyborg. Ronon is extra edgy and people stay out of his way. Sheppard spends a lot of time sneaking his surf board into a jumper, teaching the Athosian kids a new way of trying to kill themselves.

Rodney does what Rodney does best. He sits in his lab and makes science happen. Sometimes he makes free cell or solitaire happen, but even scientists must succumb to the tortures inflicted by celestial bodies.

Sometimes he shouts at people, but the people have become wise. They are able to differentiate between being yelled at for being incompetent or being yelled at because Rodney can't turn the heat on the local sun down.

The Daedalus leaves at the height of summer, leaving four weeks where Atlantis only has Atlantis and the sweaty bodies that occupy her. The ice cream runs out first, followed by the variety of diet sodas and beers. By week two, it's back to using good old Earth know how and Athosian smarts to produce new and tasty cold drinks to stave off the heat.

"I think I like Athosian cocktails," Elizabeth says with a big smile one evening.

The sun has gone down and everyone is on the mainland while Atlantis is temporarily shielded in a self-diagnostic mode, or in the middle of disc de-fragmentation has Sheppard calls it.

The theme for the evening is a Luau and initially Rodney wants to shout at people, especially when he sees the Hawaiian shirts come out and hears the Beach Boys come on. Then he sees Elizabeth who is wearing a white skirt that's so... so swishy and light and shows the barest shadow of her slim legs. She's wearing a loose turquoise top with a V neck and loose sleeves, The thing that knocks him off his feet is that she has found a pink flower and stuck it in her her hair, which is soft and long, touching her shoulders. Her skin is flushed pink and she looks relaxed and happy.

Maybe everyone else looks happy too, but Elizabeth is... Rodney frowns into his punch and wonders if one drink is simply one too many.

It's the heat. It has to be the heat. Rodney and Elizabeth aren't like that. They're friends. Colleagues. Elizabeth is not allowed to be hot, or sexy, or attractive. She must only be Elizabeth.

"Rodney?"

Rodney snaps out of it fast and says, "What?"

Elizabeth laughs. "How many drinks have you had?"

"Half," Rodney says, holding up a half full cup of sweet red punch, made of god knows what. "I think someone spiked the punch."

Elizabeth just smiles, her eyes moving over the crowd where people are dancing and talking and winding down.

"You look nice," Rodney blurts out and then drains his drink in embarrassment.

Elizabeth gives a little diplomatic bow of the head, because this kind of compliment coming from Rodney doesn't warrant concern. Elizabeth doesn't see him that way and until the heat boiled his brain, he never saw her like this either, so elegant, poised and so... so Elizabeth.

"No," Rodney says emphatically. "Really. You look good."

This seems to catch her attention and she looks at Rodney for a moment before smiling, catching on that Rodney might have actually thought about this before saying it. She says, "Thank you."

Then she looks at Rodney's shirt, the one forced on him. This is what he doesn't get. The city runs out of toilet paper, yet people have enough Hawaiian shirts that there are extra for others to borrow? That's just not right.

Rodney gives her a look. "Don't say anything."

Elizabeth grins. "What? I think it suits you."

"It's blinding people," Rodney retorts. "In fact, I'm guessing the Wraith can see it."

Elizabeth laughs and then pretends to look hurt. "Well, I like it."

Rodney pretends not to care. "Well, good for you."

Sheppard gets between them just then, putting a hand on Rodney's shoulder, smile on his face and a garland of flowers around his neck. If Rodney finds out the Luau was his idea, he is going to pay.

"Great party, huh?" John asks, nodding to Elizabeth and Rodney.

Rodney stares at him. "Where the hell did you get white pants?"

Sheppard shrugs. "I know a guy who can get things."

"Well, you should give them back," Rodney says.

"Hey," John says, feelingly.

"I think they're very nice," Elizabeth says.

"I think you're lying, blind or drunk, Elizabeth," Rodney says.

Elizabeth laughs and Sheppard narrows his eyes at Rodney before spotting Ronon and running off to put flowers in his hair. Probably.

A slow song comes on and Rodney's hands break out in a sweat, which is stupid because that only ever happened when he wanted to ask Sarah Rennie to dance, but knew she'd say no because he was awkward and shy and she was hot.

Rodney mentally berates himself and puts his cup of Luau liquor down, straightens up with hands at his side. "Um, did you want to... do you... dance and the like?"

Elizabeth looks surprised. "You dance?"

"Yes I dance," Rodney says defensively. "Any idiot that can remember more than three steps can dance."

Elizabeth gives him an amused look and then puts her drink down. "Okay."

Rodney loses his nerve straight away and says, "Oh. I mean, okay. Sure."

Then he walks off ahead of Elizabeth, getting to the small space designated for dancing and then remembers his grandfather saying something about being a gentleman. Rodney turns around, expecting to find Elizabeth right there, but she's still in her spot and watching him with a curious look, like maybe she doesn't know him. Rodney hopes that maybe she can see something that's likeable. That would be... well, good.

Rodney slowly walks back towards her, watching her watching him and holds a hand out and says, just like he was taught many years ago and promptly forgot until now, when it seems to matter, "May I?"

Elizabeth is smiling, but there's a line of confusion on her forehead. She nods and says, "Yes, you may."

They get to the edge of the dance circle around the huge camp fire where a big pig type thing is roasting. They don't really dance, rather, just sway in the same spot without Rodney trampling on Elizabeth's feet. She feels light in his arms, all long elegant lines like a swan. Sure he's noticed before, but...

"What?" Elizabeth asks. "You look like you're miles away."

Rodney frowns. "I was just thinking how sometimes something is right in front of your face and you're just too stupid to see it."

Elizabeth smiles. "Is this is about Friday's incident in the labs?"

Rodney snorts. "No. That's your run of the mill incident of people who are too stupid to see how stupid they are."

Elizabeth gives him a stern look. "It's not their fault. There's still so much about this city we don't know."

"Yes," Rodney says. "Gives one the feeling of what it might be like to walk into a mine field wearing a blindfold."

Elizabeth smiles, the fire flickering in her eyes. Her eyes sparkle and how has he never noticed?

"You're looking very distracted," Elizabeth says, serious and staring at him.

"Your eyes... they're, have they always been that colour?" Rodney asks, frowning.

Elizabeth seems clearly taken aback, but then smiles slowly. "As fas as I know. Maybe you just never noticed before, Rodney."

Rodney stops dancing for a moment and really looks at Elizabeth. He's pretty sure that somehow Elizabeth looks new. Like... well, new.

Rodney gives her a small smile. "I guess I'm not such a big genius."

Rodney could be making this up in his head, but something about the way Elizabeth breathes seems different, measured. She steps a little closer and says, "Don't sell yourself so short, Rodney."

Rodney laughs. "I think you might be the only person who would say that."

She nods. "That's because I know you."

Rodney nods thoughtfully and swallows down something like fear or relief. "Well, someone ought to."

Then he tightens his hold on Elizabeth and starts swaying again, like she might fly away somewhere. Elizabeth surprises him by moving closer, making them cheek to cheek and Rodney breathes in her scent, closing his eyes.

"So, Luaus," he says. "Good idea. We should probably make this an annual thing."

Lorne was lying in an infirmary bed, doped to the gills, bruised and battered when Sheppard said, "I think you should see Heightmeyer."

Lorne had nodded and said, "Sure. Okay."

At the time, it did see an odd kind of suggestion. Lorne was just coming out of a bad mission and Sheppard was suggesting women to date. The guy's timing really sucked.

Still, a few days later, Lorne limped into the mess and remembered the suggestion when he saw Kate Heightmeyer frowning at some pudding cups, obviously trying to decide whether she wanted to go for lemon or chocolate. After great deliberation, she picked the chocolate pudding.

Lorne limped over and gave her a nod and smile, noticing her eyes travelling over the bruises on his face. He stood up just that bit straighter, using them the bruises to their fullest effect.

"Hey," he said.

"Major," she said amiably with that warm smile of hers.

"Look, uh, I was wondering if we could," Lorne said, tailing off and waving his hand when he couldn't find the right words.

She smiled and placed a hand on his arm, making him hold back a groan. Jeez, wasn't there a single place that didn't hurt?

"Why don't you come by my office on Friday? Seventeen hundred hours?" she said.

Lorne nodded and smiled. Maybe Sheppard had already gotten to her. "Colonel Sheppard talk to you, right?"

She gave a nod. "He said you might ask... or at least try."

Lorne smiled. "Yeah. Uh... okay, Friday then. Well... good. I'll see you then."

She smiled and left with her pudding cup and coffee. Lorne stood there until he remembered he had come by for food.

Friday came quick, way too quick for a week where he didn't do much besides sketch and paint. He might have done a few sketches of Kate without realising he was doing so, but he'd allow himself to be beaten to death before admitting that.

Friday, he turned up at Kate's office with a bottle of Athosian ale and some wild flowers he had gotten one of the Marines to steal from the labs. They were kind of pink and yellow and... well, flowery.

She looked surprised when the door slid back and he said, "Hi. These are for you."

She blinked and took them and said, "Um... thank you. I don't think anyone's ever brought me flowers before."

Lorne stared. "Are you kidding? They must be nuts."

Kate gave him a look and then seemed to have great difficulty in not trying to smile.

Lorne said, "Uh... I didn't mean... I just mean they'd have to be crazy to... no wait, that's not right."

"It's okay," Kate said. "Why don't you come inside?"

Lorne shook his head at himself and followed her in.

"Sit down, please," she said, gesturing to the small couch opposite her chair.

Lorne sat down and put the ale on a nearby table, watching her sit down. With a notepad in her hand. Okay... sure, he'd had weird dates before. Maybe it was just a bad habit.

"You look good," Kate said with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

Lorne shrugged. "Great. You know, not like a tenderised piece of steak at anymore," he said with a grin. "You look good too."

Kate seemed startled. No flowers, no compliments. Something was wrong with this picture. "Um... thank you. It's nice of you to... you know, let's just," she said, stopping and scratching her head with a frown. She looked up then, smile in place. "Is there anything-"

"Hey, should we open this first?" Lorne asked, picking up the bottle.

Kate stared at it. "What is it?"

"Athosian Ale. Though, I think it tastes like beer."

Kate looked slightly alarmed. "Major, have you been drinking a lot lately?"

"Come on, you can call me Evan, considering the circumstances," Lorne said. "And to answer your question, a guy's got to grab that drink when he can, you know, especially in this place."

Kate wrote something down. Lorne frowned. Habit or not, that was weird.

"You don't consider it to be a problem?" Kate asked.

Lorne shrugged and scratched his chin. "Well, you know, some stuff is harder to get in this place. You just have to want it enough. You have any glasses or anything?"

"I really don't think it's appropriate to be drinking right now," Kate said, looking at him like he was an alien.

Lorne stilled, nodding slowly. "Um...sure. Okay." Maybe she was Amish. That was weirdly hot.

"Why don't we talk about this last mission?" Kate asked gently.

Lorne smiled and waved a hand. "You know what, let's not talk about it. You must get tired of listening to everyone's problems. Why don't we talk about you? I hardly know anything about you." Like if she was Amish.

Kate sat back. "Well... Major."

"Look, Kate-"

"Doctor," Kate said tersely.

Lorne frowned. "You want me to call you Doctor?"

"I think it would be better," Kate said.

Lorne gave her an understanding look. "You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Major, exactly how much alcohol have you already consumed tonight?"

"Well, Doctor, not enough I'm beginning to guess," Lorne said, eyeing her carefully.

Kate wrote something down and Lorne finally got up and snatched the notepad from her hands. "Look, I get it, a person can develop some weird habits because of the day job, but seriously, taking notes on a date? That's kind of crazy."

"I think you'll find it's quite stand-" Kate started, obviously annoyed and then stopped. She blinked and said, "I'm sorry, date?"

Lorne narrowed his eyes at her. Looked at the notepad. He looked around the office. "I... I was asking you out on a date. I don't, I mean, oh god."

Kate stood up and looked a little embarrassed. "Oh."

"I'm not nuts," Lorne said, waving the notepad at her. "And I am not an alcoholic. Look, smell my breath."

Kate evaded his look, her mouth opening to protest and then she stepped back and said, "Well... have you ever actually been on a date before?"

Lorne raised his brows at her. "Yeah. Have you?"

Kate smiled. "Not recently. It's hard to remember what they are."

Lorne showed her the notepad and then pointed at a doodle. "That doesn't even look like me."

Kate grabbed the notepad. "I made that before you got here. It's not you." She smiled, a slight flush on her cheeks, one that made Lorne warm all over. "Look, you should still talk about what happened on that mission-"

Lorne shook his head and said quietly, "No. You should go out with me."

"Evan-"

"Look, we're already half way there," he said with a smile. "You even called me Evan, though usually I wish people wouldn't."

Kate looked apprehensive, like she was weighing him up as if he were a pudding cup.

Lorne held his hand out. "Come on. Have dinner with me. Please?"

She laughed a little and Lorne might have flushed all over. She somewhat tentatively put her hand in his and said, "Okay, One date."

Lorne nodded. "One date, Doctor."

Kate rolled her eyes. "You can call me Kate."

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter is standing in John's quarters. Her team of wild and wacky bandits is here chasing after the Ori and he's been pretending he hardly knows this woman. Now she's in his quarters and she calls him John and he calls her Sam and it's weird. Really weird.

"So... this is weird," John says.

Sam nods. "Yeah."

John looks around his quarters, avoiding Sam's gaze. He looks at her again and says, "Did I mention the part where this is pretty weird?"

Sam smiles, a smile he knows as well as his own fake smiles. "I think you might have."

John nods and goes to sit down on his bed, rubbing the back of his neck. When he looks up, Sam is closer and her hands are stuffed in her pockets. She hasn't changed that much over the years. She still looks like herself, maybe a little older, just like him.

"I never thought we'd actually end up working together," John says. "I mean, even after I joined up for the expedition."

"You knew I where I was," Sam says.

John slowly nods. "Yeah. I knew. Everyone knows SG-1. You guys are like heroes or something."

Sam smiles a warm smile. "Everyone knows John Sheppard too. Trust me."

"Yeah. For killing his C.O to get his job. That's right up there with the black mark," John says with a smile that feels uncomfortable.

"It's not like you to feel sorry for yourself," Sam says.

"A guy changes a lot in fifteen years," John says.

Sam sits down on the bed next to him and the hair on his arms is ready to spring to attention, a cool finger sliding up his spine and making him shiver. He gives her a wary look, but she's watching him like he needs a band aid. It makes him want to close his eyes and will her away.

"They shouldn't have sent you to-"

"It's history," John says. "I did what I had to do, they did what they had to do and now I'm here."

Sam grins. It's something that completely changes her face. Something that makes her years younger and into that eager kid he knew long ago. She says, "And now you're here."

John smiles and looks away. "So, McKay's got a thing for you. I might have to break his legs."

Sam laughs. "You're not allowed to break his legs. We're not married anymore."

John makes a face. "What about you? You have a thing for him?"

Sam shrugs, her face somewhere between a smile and a scowl. Her non-committal face where she could be either way. Then she smiles, eyes full of mischief.

John throws his head back and groans, falling back on the bed, covering his face with his hands. "You have got to be kidding me." His hands flop to his sides and he looks up at her. "Stick a knife in my chest, why don't you?"

Sam gives him a look, arched eyebrow. "No thanks. You're pretty good at doing that all by yourself."

John gives her a lazy smile and pretends to stab himself in the heart with a knife, moving the invisible weapon side to side.

"Do you even tell people you were married?" Sam asks, sounding curious more than anything else.

John shrugs. "What's the point?"

"No point, I guess," she says flatly.

John looks at her and says, "I suppose you tell everyone you meet."

The corner of Sam's mouth goes up in a smile. "No. You're my dirty little secret."

John chuckles at that. "Yeah. So... what are you doing here?"

Sam shrugs. "I don't know. Having that talk we never had?"

"Forget it," John says with a sigh. "Let's just forget the whole sorry thing."

"It wasn't all bad," Sam says, staring ahead. She looks around the room, spots the Johnny Cash poster and says. "Dad warned me, you know?"

John sits up and frowns. "About what?"

"About getting hooked up with a man that loves a man that hates The Man," Sam says.

John smiles. "Sounds like something he'd say."

She nods slowly. John says quietly, "I heard about Jacob. I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "It's okay. I'm pretty sure he disliked you right until the end."

John smiles and nods as Sam gets up. "Well, I better go. See if McKay's ready."

John slowly gets up too and gives her a nod.

"See you later?" Sam asks and John knows she doesn't really expect him to turn up to say 'goodbye, have a safe trip to Earth'.

"Sure," he says.

They stand there for a moment and John figures that Sam is having the same problem of whether ex-spouses should hug, kiss or shake hands when they part.

They both stumble between some kind of odd cheek-kiss, hand-shake hug and before he knows it, he's holding Sam steady by her arms and her hands are around his waist. It's not any kind of heat or lust. It's something remembered and old. Something achingly familiar. His arms automatically close around hers and she's pressing her body against his. They're falling back on the bed and kissing like they might have forgotten to do so all those years ago. Like an idiot, he's opening up her jacket and pulling her T-shirt out, while Sam's balancing on one hand and her other hand is crawling up under his T-shirt, her hot fingers stroking starved skin.

He tilts his mouth and drinks in kisses from her mouth, panting into it, his hands under her clothes, palming her warm back, fingers feeling the edge of the bra strap which is asking to be snapped open. In the haze of all this sensation, John can't remember why they broke up and hopes she forgives him, because right now, he'd probably forgive her anything.

He pulls his mouth away, sucking in a breath, her lips so soft and so close. She's on top of him, breathing hard and closing her eyes, probably already berating herself.

"Yeah," John whispers. "Probably a bad idea."

Yet, his hands are so comfortable on her skin, still sliding up and down. Sam nods and leans back on her knees, slowly getting off the bed, leaving his hands bereft, dead by his side. He lies still and watches her readjust her clothes, looking a little glazed over. He remembers it all too. All the hurt rushes back in one crushing wave. It doesn't make sense how they could have loved and hated each other at the same time. But for a while, they managed it pretty well.

"I'll see you later," Sam says, not looking him in the eyes and swiftly walking away as John stares at the ceiling.

Later, when Sam is gone, he lies on the covers, fingers linked behind his head, listening to the low sound of music from his laptop. He can still smell that she was here. A soft lingering fragrance. He closes his eyes and breathes it in like he used to on the days where he taught himself she wasn't coming home.

- the end -