"That's ridiculous," John insisted as he skidded to a halt, pressing his back against the wall and motioning for Elizabeth to do the same. "No way."

She took advantage of the moment's pause and dropped her head back, sucking in deep gasps of air. "Yes," she breathed, "way."

John shot her an incredulous look and cocked his head to the side. "Yes way?"

She waived a hand in explanation. "I'm trying to speak in a language that you'll understand."

He shook his head before raising his P90 to his shoulder. Pushing off the wall, John pivoted around the corner and fired several short bursts, incapacitating a pair of approaching Wraith guards before again taking cover next to Elizabeth. "You think I speak surfer?" He ejected his now empty clip.

"Is that surfer?" She spared a quick glance and scanned the now empty corridor. "I thought it was just universally used by people of lesser eloquence and limited intelligence."

John scoffed and dug into his vest for more ammo. "You're trying to convince me that Superman is better than Batman and you think I'm the stupid one?" He clicked a new magazine into place and gave Elizabeth a brief nod. "Let's go."

She gripped her stunner in both hands and followed after John as he made his way down the passage, picking past the downed Wraith. "I'm just calling it like I see it."

"But Superman has to rely on his alien abilities. Batman is human."

They were forced to stop when they came to a web-like door, the eerie blue backlight from the area beyond accentuating John's deep frown of frustration. He grabbed the bars and jerked but they held firm. Taking two steps back John lunged at the door, dipping his shoulder to absorb the impact. It didn't budge.

"Ouch," he winced, rubbing his shoulder.

"Serves you right for attacking inanimate objects with your body. See," Elizabeth pointed out, sweeping a stray wisp of hair from her eyes, "Superman would just use his heat vision to melt this thing open."

"Yeah, well," John trained his weapon on the wall that he guessed housed the controls, "Batman would be smart enough to reprogram this crap."

She turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. "You're telling me that you value brains over brawn?"

John stopped and pivoted to face her, his voice smooth as silk, "Brains can be a very admirable and enticing quality."

"Is that so," she breathed.

He grinned, turning to fire into the wall. When the door still didn't budge he paused to examine the area again and shrugged his shoulders. "I just think that someone who worked hard to achieve his superherodom is cooler than someone born to it or someone who had it thrust upon them by alien heritage." His next probing shots caused the web to retract. John stepped through first and covered the corridor as Elizabeth followed.

"Shakespeare's Twelfth Night?" she guessed as she brushed passed him.

John ignored the comment and trailed after her, slowing as they approached another junction. The sound of heavy boots pounding was the only warning they had before an explosion knocked them both off their feet, the momentum propelling them behind a pile of rubble.

John shook his head to clear the dust and then twisted Elizabeth to face him. "Okay?" he asked, lifting her chin to examine her. At her affirming nod he tapped her nose with his index finger and whispered, "Superman wears blue tights and red underoos."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You honestly think that Batman's suit is better?" she asked, brushing some of the rubble from her arms and bracing herself against their makeshift cover. "It has fake nipples for heaven's sake."

"Only in some of the movies," he ground out through a clenched teeth. "Damn Schumacher." John reached into his vest pocket and retrieved a flashbang. "Close your eyes and cover your ears," he instructed before removing the pin and lobbing the canister toward the guards. As the metal from the device clattered down the passage, John tugged Elizabeth to him and hugged them both to the floor, doing his best to cover her from the blast.

She winced as even through her covered ears the sound pulsed, then felt John pull away, his hand wrapping around her wrist, pulling her to her feet and into motion. "You just like the fact that Batman gets toys," she accused.

"Maybe," he admitted as they ran at a crouch, dodging the smattering of stunner blasts that tracked their progress and opening fire on the cluster of temporarily blind and deaf Wraith.

A noise from behind them caused John to turn, in one fluid motion yanking the stunner from Elizabeth's grasp and leveling it to take out the oncoming Wraith. Once he was sure that nothing in the room was moving he tossed the weapon back to Elizabeth.

"My hero," she drawled, affecting a sotto southern lilt.

He tried for a bright, innocent smile. "I was out of ammo."

"You never see Superman unarming Lois Lane."

He arched one eyebrow and grinned flirtatiously before commenting, "I'm so telling everyone back home that you think you're my love interest."

As he reloaded he took a moment to survey his surroundings. "I think the exit is just beyond this area." He nodded, indicating the point where the passageway swelled, a control consol of some sort standing prominently in the center.

"Spidey-sense tingling?" she asked with a grin, resettling her weapon and shifting her aim to secure the passage behind them.

John huffed a laugh and shook his head. "Quiet you."

On the other side of the room they found a solid black door. John ran his hands along the edges, looking for some kind of lock or catch.

"No toy for this?" she asked. "Bat-can-opener perhaps?"

"Gee," John drawled with feigned enthusiasm, "if only Superman were here to smash through this obstacle with his inhuman strength."

Elizabeth reached forward, pushing her fingers into a soft spot of wall and triggering the release mechanism.

"That would be a little excessive," she admitted as the bright light of a foreign planet spilled into the room, washing them in white.

Squinting, they stepped out onto the soil. When their eyes adjusted they found themselves in a clearing, only rocks and dirt for miles in each direction.

"Don't say it," John warned, hands fisting around the stock of his P90.

She couldn't help herself. "Superman would be able to fly us out."

John groaned.

"Sorry," she apologized, her tone belying the sentiment. "Let's head out from here and find a place to –"

In front of them the air shifted, shimmering like evaporating water, and John's shoulders slumped in relief as a jumper materialized. McKay waved from his place in the pilot's seat, his grin triumphant.

"Ten points to Wonder Woman and the invisible jet."