Elizabeth Weir sat in her quarters, the dim lighting making it difficult for her to see the book she was reading. That was the disadvantage of not having the ATA gene--nothing in Atlantis seemed to work quite as well as it did for those so privilaged. With a shake of her head she put the book aside and leaned back, stretching. She could always have Carson artificially introduce the gene, but every time she thought she would, some emergency called for her immediate attention.
She rose from her chair, wincing as her joints protested loudly. She must have been sitting there for longer than the original hour she'd alloted herself. Either that or she was getting old. She snorted in amusement. No use thinking along those lines, not now at any rate. She couldn't afford to feel sorry for herself or start worrying about a few grey hairs here and there.
Becoming aware of a persistant rumbling coming from the area of her stomach, Elizabeth decided that she needed to get something to eat, as she hadn't all day. That definitely wasn't healthy, and if she were going to appear hale and hearty in front of the people she was responsible for, she would have to remember to take better care of herself. Of course, that wasn't always so easy when every little thing seemed to want to go wrong at any given moment over the course of a day.
The empty corridors of the ancient city were dark, and Elizabeth's footsteps echoed eerily as she walked. She crossed her arms and--while trying not to appear it--hurried towards the food storage area. Memories of old palaces in countries where women weren't exactly treated as equals--and a specific time in which she had barely escaped with her life, much less than her dignity--threatened to overwhelm her. That, coupled with images of life-sucking vampiric aliens made her jumpier than she would normally. For a brief second, she allowed herself to curse President Hayes for ever getting her involved in the Stargate program in the first place.
Finally, she arrived at her destination, much to her--and her grumbling stomach's-- relief, and she allowed herself to relax ever so slightly. There really was nothing to be frightened about. Everyone here knew everyone else, and the threat from the Wraith wasn't exactly immediate.
Rummaging through the various foodstuffs, she found it difficult to decide on what she wanted. There was a wide variety to choose from, and all of it looked wonderful to her starving mind. Closing her eyes, she reached out and grabbed a package. Chocolate. Well, it wasn't a nutritional supplement, but hey, she loved it, and anyway it would tide her over until the next day.
Besides, her method of choosing never failed. She was meant to have the chocolate.
"That's my story, and I'm sticking to it," she murmured in amusement.
"What's your story?" a voice asked, startling Elizabeth.
She turned around to find Rodney McKay standing in the doorway of the storage area wearing Darkwing Duck boxers and a matching tee-shirt. His hair was mussed as though he had just woken up, and his slightly glazed eyes reinforced that conclusion.
He's kinda cute like that, the irreverant imp in Elizabeth thought idly, In fact, I'd sure like to...
No! she admonished herself in a panic, Bad thoughts. Bad bad thoughts.
Flustered, Elizabeth realized the physicist was waiting for her response, and she cast about her mind for something to say that wouldn't make her sound like some kind of crazy chocolate obsessed female. She couldn't find anything, so she shrugged and decided to tell the truth. At best, he wouldn't recall this conversation. At worst, he would and she'd just have to remind him who was the boss around here. "I was just making excuses for eating boxers...chocolate. For eating chocolate."
She felt a flush heat her cheeks as Rodney arched an eyebrow at her. The mischievous little imp that was her libido howled with laughter and urged her to continue putting her foot in her mouth. However, she wasn't a master negotiator for nothing. She knew when to shut-up and hope like hell she hadn't overstepped her bounds.
"Y'know," Rodney said, sounding indignant, "I know I'm not the coolest guy around, but you don't have to make fun of my sleeping garments."
Elizabeth's mouth opened and closed as she was unable to form a response to that. The imp was disappointed that he hadn't understood, but her normal self was relieved. She took a deep breath and smiled. "You're right. I'm sorry, I wasn't making fun of you..."
"Oh yeah right," Rodney interrupted heatedly, "I know what you guys say about me behind my back and let me tell you..."
"No let me tell you," Elizabeth interrupted just as heatedly, "That I was thinking more along the lines of edible boxers..." She stopped and gritted her teeth. She had been going to tell him to get over himself, but that damn imp changed the words at the last minute again. Damn it. She needed to get some sleep. Or chocolate. Chocolate would be nice. Hmm...chocolate covered Rodney...
Bad thoughts, bad thoughts!!
"Oh.." Rodney seemed to be at a loss for words. He blinked several times, and shook his head twice, as though he were trying to shake something loose. Then he looked back at her. "I did hear you right...you said something about edible boxers?"
"Ye--es," Elizabeth drawled, while trying to think fast. This was so embarrassing, and not very leaderlike. "I...your boxers kind of reminded me of...well this pair that...my boyfriend showed me once. Yeah." Oh yeah, that sounded convincing.
"Really?" Rodney asked sarcastically, "Because I've never heard of edible boxers. Edible underwear, yes. Boxers, no."
Standing up to her full height, she looked him in the eye. His very blue eyes. Bad!Squaring her shoulders and doing her best to ignore the imp, she told Rodney. "Yes. Really. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have some chocolate in my room. Care to join me?" Crap. Damn imp.
"In your room?" Rodney asked skeptically--and a little hopefully.
"No. I mean yes. No. Yes..."
Rodney shook his head, amusement suddenly dancing in his eyes. "I get what this is about," he gloated, "You want me."
"I do...not," Elizabeth had to force herself to say.
"Do too."
"Do not. Okay fine, I do. Are you happy?"
Rodney blinked as though he weren't expecting to have won the argument quite so quickly. "Uh...Elizabeth. Wake up."
"I'm sorry?" Elizabeth asked, "What?"
"Wake up..."
Elizabeth came awake with a start. Rodney was standing over her with a concerned expression. She pulled away from him, disoriented and a little jumpy. That had all been a dream? She blinked her eyes to clear them sleepiness from them and looked around. She was in the food storage area, with Rodney. Only he was wearing his usualy grey jumper and not Darkwing Duck pajamas.
"What?" She asked incoherently.
Apparently he understood, because he answered, "You fell asleep here. Carson wants you in the infirmary ASAP so he can check you out. You know, just in case. Personally I think you're having the same problems all the rest of us are having."
All the rest of them were having dreams of edible boxers and chocolate covered Rodney McKays? She shook her head to clear that thought. Obviously the little imp was just as bad in her conscious mind as in her subconscious. However, it was easier to keep it from influencing her speech. "And that would be?" She asked him.
"Stress," was the simple answer.
"Right. Have you ever heard of edible boxers?"
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