Title: Because It's Fun
Sense: Very little.
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis, John, Liz, Ford, McKay and Lexington. (Who I totally made up.)
Notes: I half asleep. If this make-y no sense-y? Um. Sorry?
Summary: It just figures it would happen when they brought Elizabeth along.
She is lying, face down, panting and completely replete. If the situation they were in were anything approaching normal, he'd be doing a little internal monkey dance of joy.
It pains him that he can't think that way right now. She really didn't need this.
"Are you okay?"
Weakly, she waves a hand and pants out a 'yes' before slumping over onto her side and attempting a glare. Despite (or maybe because of) the limp, sweaty hair and flushed face, she manages a decent one. On a WeirScale of 1 to 10, it's only an 8.4, but some leeway must be given for the fact that she's just run three miles.
He sighs and swings the jumper to the left, neatly avoiding a surface to air missile. Ford, Teyla, McKay, and Lexington are conspicuously silent. He risks a quick glance over his shoulder and notices that, yes, the inner door is closed. The kids always hate it when Mom and Dad fight.
"It's not my fault you always punk out on morning runs."
His sneaking suspicion that she's made it to a 10.6 is confirmed with a quick glance down. He's perfectly aware that if Liz ever did get magical heat-vision powers, he'd be on fire within the space of fifteen minutes. John makes a quick mental note to not let her on any team expeditions in the near future.
Beckett accidentally exploding one of the water storage tanks after that jaunt to Plieggxtxhnsomethingsomething was quite enough. And frankly, Lizzie was scarier than the little hobbit-like doctor. And Ford was so going to get his ass kicked if Carson ever found out who started that joke.
"Yes. gasp IT. IS."
Okay, so he doesn't drag her out of bed kicking and screaming. Which, really, is what it takes (besides threat of impending death) to get her some physical exercise. "Can you blame me? You've got a mean right cross."
"Right, no laughing." And he's biting his lip trying not to smile. And if the lights in the cabin are glowing a lot more cheerfully. Well. She's staring at his boots.
Truth be told, even with his regular morning runs and the weight lifting and the infinite stair master that is their home, he's a little winded himself. The fact that Liz managed to keep going over three miles of rough, swampy terrain and (sort of) keep up with JackRabbitTeyla, all the while keeping roughly a quarter mile between herself and lots of pointy sticks? Rather impressive.
It figured that the trade negotiations were gonna go south. On the day they decided to be magnanimous and bring their leader along. "To stretch my legs..." she'd said.
Oh, yeah. REALLY good thing she was staring at his boots.
"Are we... home yet?" she asked, sounding marginally less dead.
"We're breaking atmo in a minute or so."
He snickered before hitting the open command on the back doors. If she could joke, she was ready for her public. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and caught sight of his rather bedraggled and muddy team.
Who were arguing.
How was it fair that they both had the breath to argue after the forced run? Oh, to be 25 again...
"...not my fault!"
"I never said that!"
McKay - who looked a lot worse than Elizabeth - was slumped over and probably unconscious on one of the padded benches. Lexington was twiddling his thumbs (damn PT fanatic) and watching as Teyla and Ford had one of their escalating flirtfights.
"You closed the door!"
"You told me to!"
It was like working with children. Especially dumb adolescent children who were entirely oblivious to the obvious. Except that they really did act more like siblings than potential dating material. Despite the fact that nearly everyone in the city had caught Ford staring at Teyla's butt.
Then again. It was a nice butt.
John coughed into his hand and guided the jumper through the upper atmosphere and towards the southern continent where the navcom told him the way home should be. Behind him, the combatants segued from the door into privacy issues and why it was important to maintain group harmony.
Children. They were all children.
Except that the woman currently snickering and panting on the floor next to him would probably point out that he wasn't exactly mature either. If she could. Y'know. Talk. More.
It should worry him more that they kept discussing his private life and dating preferences in public.
"It is SO not my turn to lock them up."
"You are so five."
"And it's your turn so there."
But Lizzie was giggling into his pant leg and the gate was active and they were going to be home in two minutes. And it sounded like he was getting locked in a closet with Liz soon. So really? He didn't mind.