Title: Coworkers

Author: C.S. Williams

Pairings: Sheppard/Weir, Jack/Sam (and yes, it's a combination SGA/SG-1 story, so if you're a purist, I'll warn you now)

Spoilers: Nothing crucial, just a couple teeny references (no plot spoilers); setting is early season 3 of Atlantis, season 10 of SG-1

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or Stargate SG-1. If I did, this would probably appear in an episode or something...

Author's Note: It starts off as mostly SG-1, but later it's definitely SGA too. (In fact, I think it's primarily SGA, which is why it's only posted in the SGA section.) I know the crossover has been done to death, but I liked the idea of the two teams having just a little downtime together. I hope you enjoy!

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"And I think that concludes our meeting," closed General Landry, standing up from the briefing table. "And a special thank-you for the report from the Pegasus galaxy." He nodded at the side of the table where Elizabeth, John, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Carson had seated themselves.

"Oh, goody!" Vala exclaimed, jumping up. "It's finally over. Who knew life-sucking aliens could be so boring?"

"Daniel, weren't you supposed to do something about her?" Mitchell asked. Daniel chose to ignore the comment.

"Well, I for one am glad I stayed for this profoundly uplifting meeting," remarked Jack sarcastically. "The Pentagon will be so very pleased."

"Sorry, General," replied Elizabeth, smiling. "Just be glad it's another galaxy for you."

"Hey, this makes paperwork seem not so bad!" Mitchell proclaimed.

"Good," said Landry. "Then you won't mind being confined to the base for as long as it takes to get your last twelve mission reports in."

"Twelve?! Cam!" Sam shook her head in disbelief.

"Damn," remarked O'Neill. "That's gotta suck. We're gonna miss you."

"Yeah, tell me about—wait, 'miss me'? What's that mean?" Mitchell was suddenly alert as he fixed a partly alarmed, but mostly suspicious stare on the general.

O'Neill shrugged casually. "Y'know, the BBQ out at Carter's tonight."

It was Carter's turn to look alarmed. "'BBQ at Carter's,' sir?"

O'Neill shrugged again. "I just assumed it'd be at your place, seeing as how I no longer have a house in Colorado Springs. Do you want to disappoint our Atlantis counterparts?"

As Carter struggled to find a response that didn't qualify as insubordination, the others attempted to puzzle out just why one of the most respected generals in the Air Force had stopped making sense.

Unsurprisingly, it was Teal'c who was first to decode the cryptic Jack-speak. "Are we to join the Atlantis personnel in this 'BBQ,' O'Neill?"

"Got it in one, buddy!" O'Neill said, clapping the Jaffa on the shoulder. Teal'c merely stared at him impassively. "But don't play coy with me, Teal'c. How many bar-be-ques have you been to now?"

Teal'c's impassive stare never wavered, though it almost seemed to take on a more resigned quality. "Plenty, O'Neill."

"Great!" O'Neill exclaimed enthusiastically. "So it's settled! We're meeting at Carter's at 1700 hours."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Carter held up a hand to stop him. "Have you stopped to consider asking Carter if she's okay with that?" O'Neill opened his mouth to respond, but Carter stopped him again with a sigh. "No, of course you didn't, because if I don't agree to it you'll just make it an order and I'll have no choice but to follow it, despite the P8X-967 artifact just sitting in my lab, waiting to be examined—"

"Carter!" O'Neill interrupted. "So that's a yes?"

Looking longingly at the mission folder in front of her, Carter sighed resignedly again and nodded. "But you're doing the BBQing. Sir."

Daniel's look of horror was mirrored in Teal'c's expression. "No! Do you remember last time, Sam? I vote Teal'c does the cooking."

Teal'c began to glower at the archeologist before considering his options and nodding. "I shall accept."

"Wait," Elizabeth intervened. "Look, it's nice of you to offer, but you really don't need to—"

"Don't be silly! You've been stuck in the Pegasus galaxy for three years, deprived of one of the basic necessities of life: O'Neill's—"

"Teal'c's," interrupted Daniel.

"—infamous BBQ surprise," continued O'Neill, ignoring him.

"What is the surprise?" asked Teyla, curious.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"The surprise is how long it takes the ambulance to come save you after you eat it," replied Sam off-handedly. At the chuckles that followed, she added seriously, "I'm not kidding. The average is what? 2.4 minutes?"

"1.3 if the hospital is notified ahead of time," supplied Daniel.

O'Neill attempted to glare at both of them simultaneously, but eventually abandoned it to roll his eyes heavenward. "Fine. 1700 hours, Carter's house."

"General," began Elizabeth resolutely again, "we don't even have transportation—"

"You've got rentals topside, and everything else is taken care of, even the things I haven't thought of." O'Neill dismissed her concerns. "You're all coming."

"Even me?" asked Vala, brightening. She latched onto Daniel's arm. "Oooh, Daniel! My first barbie-cue!"

Daniel looked less enthused. "Hooray."

"Hank, you coming?" O'Neill turned to the elder general.

"Some of us do actually have jobs, you know," Landry replied teasingly.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Poor guys." O'Neill clapped his hands. "OK, kids! Four hours until rendezvous. Dismissed."

With a scattering of rolled eyes among the assembled personnel, the group left the briefing room.

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"Elizabeth?" Carson poked his head around the door to one of the SGC's translation labs. "Are you ready to go?"

Elizabeth glanced up, startled. "Carson!" She straightened some papers in front of her. "I was just looking over some Ancient writing." She tried to frown as convincingly as possible. "Ready to go where?"

Carson stared at her for a moment. "Oh, don't tell me you forgot. General O'Neill's little get-together?"

Elizabeth winced, pretending to remember suddenly. "Oh no. I'm sorry, I just got so caught up in this translation I didn't even..." she trailed off, looking at the pile of work around her. "Look, could you please tell General O'Neill I don't think I'll be able to make it after all? I still have all this—"

Carson sighed. "Elizabeth..."

Another voice sounded outside the door. "That sounded almost like an 'Elizabeth is finding some excuse to keep on working' sigh. But that can't be it, since we're dragging her if necessary." John Sheppard's head appeared in the doorway beside Carson's.

Elizabeth sighed herself this time. "I'm sorry, but I just started translating all this. It's going to take the better part of the night."

John frowned sympathetically. "That kind of sucks."

The relief at his understanding flooded Elizabeth's face. "See? So I'm just going to have to—"

"Oh, did you think I meant it sucks for us?" John asked, moving into the room to pick up one of the heavier translation tomes. He snapped it shut as Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest. "I meant for the translations that aren't going to get done until tomorrow."

"John!" Elizabeth stood up to rescue the book as the colonel held it just out of her reach. "It took me ages to find that reference! I can't believe you just did that!"

He raised his eyebrows, showing her the place where his finger had saved her page. "For now, the reference is safe. Whether or not it stays that way is up to you."

As Carson stood there, transfixed, oscillating between horror and amusement, the formerly dignified leader of Atlantis almost growled at John. "Give me the book, Colonel."

"You're coming with us, and when we get back, you get your book back. A fair trade."

"That's blackmail."

John shrugged. "Yeah. Now come on."

"But—" Perhaps sensing the futility of arguing with a crazy man, Elizabeth abandoned the attempt and nodded. "Fine. But if you lose my page, all bets are off."

"Deal. Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Weir," John said, holding out his hand for her to shake. She ignored it and stalked past him into the hallway to talk to Carson.

"Women," the colonel muttered, carefully replacing the book on the table.

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Two hours later, Elizabeth Weir had to admit she was having fun, and she was maybe even glad Colonel Sheppard was more stubborn than any man she'd ever met. Rodney had spent the evening attempting to corner Sam Carter, and it was impossible to miss the grateful looks Sam shot General O'Neill every time he "accidentally" interrupted. Hank Landry had arrived about an hour ago, and he was mediating yet another dispute between Sam and Rodney while O'Neill looked on amusedly.

John and Cam (who had been granted a reprieve from his paperwork to attend) were still discussing virtually every current sporting event known to ESPN, which Teyla, Ronon, and Vala interrupted periodically for explanation (which Teal'c then attempted to interpret). And she, Carson, and Daniel were discussing the origin of the Ancients and Ascension. Elizabeth was hard-pressed to remember the last time she'd felt this relaxed.

"Hey, who's up for a game of football?" Mitchell suddenly called from the corner of the lawn where he and the others were standing. "We thought it'd be easier to show than tell." He gestured to the assembled aliens, all displaying varying degrees of confusion.

"The American wussy sport?" McKay couldn't resist adding.

"Put your money where your mouth is, McKay," retorted Sheppard. "If it's so wussy, play it."

"Hey, let's do Earth vs. Atlantis!" Mitchell suddenly suggested. "You have to have McKay, so we'll take Daniel. That way it'll be even."

"Hey!" exclaimed Daniel and McKay in unison.

John smiled. "Sounds good to me. Carson? You up for a game?"

"Oh, I don't know," the doctor said uncertainly. "It seems a wee bit out of my league, to be honest. I haven't played in years."

"Perfect!" Mitchell proclaimed, clearly seeing his team's chances improve. "Sam?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but count me out, guys."

"You'll get to tackle McKay," Mitchell pointed out.

Sam stopped a moment to reconsider. "You know, on second thought, football sounds like fun."

"Hang on, I want to slam McKay into the ground. Why can't he be on your team? He worked at the SGC," Sheppard pointed out.

"Hey!" McKay yelped again.

"You should have thought of that before you suggested Atlantis vs. Earth." Cam said nonchalantly.

"That was you!" John reminded him. Cam merely shrugged unconcernedly. "Fine. Come on, Elizabeth; let's show them what the Pegasus galaxy is made of!"

Elizabeth smiled. "Thanks John, but I think I'll pass." She winced at the pun.

"Yeah," said O'Neill, coming to her rescue. "She already promised to help clean up. No way am I letting her out of that one." She shot him a look of surprise.

Sam stared at him in mock disbelief. "Did I just hear General Jack O'Neill say he was going to help clean up? General Landry, I think we should institute Foothold procedures immediately!"

"Agreed," Landry responded grimly as O'Neill pouted. "I'll come help you too."

"We can handle it, Hank," O'Neill replied. "Besides, these guys are definitely going to need a referee, and I can't think of a better person for the job."

Landry nodded. "OK, everybody. Huddle up!"

"Football is the sport with the merry hails, is it not?" Teyla inquired as they went about marking the boundaries of the game.

Elizabeth missed John's response as she moved to help Jack clean the trash off the picnic table in the center of the yard and take the dishes into the house. "Thanks for that, General."

He waved her gratitude away. "Jack. And trust me, I know all about wanting to distance yourself from your...coworkers."

Something about the way he said it made her stop and turn to him. He simply continued innocently clearing away debris and putting plates in the sink to soak, and she followed suit. Once most of the mess had been taken care of, O'Neill opened the fridge and asked, "Beer?"

"Hmm?" she responded, taking a moment to process the question. "Oh, no thanks. But I'll have a Diet Coke if there's any around."

Jack grimaced. "What is it with you women and Diet Coke? Of course there's some around. Carter 'likes the taste of it.' Yuck."

Elizabeth had to smile at his disgust. "My fiancé had the same reaction. I couldn't keep the stuff in the house."

She didn't miss his eyebrows raise at the mention of the word "fiancé." As he recovered, he moved to take a seat on the back porch to watch the makeshift football game. They sat in silence for awhile before he finally got the courage to ask, "So, you have a fiancé?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Ex-fiancé, I should have said. We split up last year."

"Ah. That sucks." O'Neill took a swig of his beer. "But it makes way more sense."

She cast a sidelong glance at him while she watched John explain to Ronon that his job was to tackle Daniel (Mitchell adding that "it shouldn't take too much effort"), not Teyla. Somehow Elizabeth suspected Ronon was well aware of the rules in this particular instance. "How does that make more sense? You don't see me as the marrying type?"

"Of course not." Jack stared at McKay as he tried to argue that it was perfectly legal to run out-of-bounds for a few seconds to avoid being tackled, the re-enter the game field ("Canadian rules"). "I just didn't see you as one to flaunt the rules."

"Is there some rule against the leader of Atlantis being married?" she asked teasingly.

"Y'know what I mean," he said, rolling his eyes.

She shook her head. "Honestly, I don't."

He still avoided eye contact. "Y'know...inappropriate relations with a...coworker."

Ah. So they were back to his original "coworker" comment. "If you didn't know about Simon, how did you know he was offered a job at Atlantis?"

"Simon?" Now Jack finally did look at her. "Who's Simon?"

She was equally as confused. "My ex-fiancé. Simon Wallace."

"Never heard of him." Jack's attention was once again fixed on the drama unfolding as Vala tried to accuse Sheppard of making up rules against aliens, which probably wasn't unfounded, mused Elizabeth.

"Then what on earth are you talking about—" she followed his pointed gaze toward the game. Realization dawned. "Oh, you mean...that's purely professional."

He snorted in response. "Right. You're not fooling anyone."

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. "He's sweet, but not really my type. Plus, he's dating Laura Cadman."

Now O'Neill's eyebrows flew through the roof covering the porch. "For the sake of his career, I should probably forget I heard that."

"Oh, I don't think he'd mind. Everyone in Atlantis saw McKay kiss him. It's hardly a secret." Elizabeth took another drink, oblivious to Jack's confusion.

"Wait, what does McKay have to do with Cadman and Sheppard's relationship?"

"Who mentioned John?"

"Isn't that who we were talking about?"

"I thought we were talking about Carson!"

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Between gasps of air, Elizabeth suddenly remembered something. "Wait, so you thought John—and I—" She burst out laughing almost uncontrollably, ignoring the sudden pit in her stomach.

For some reason, her laughter made Jack stop. "Look, Elizabeth." She went silent, unaccustomed to hearing such seriousness from the sarcastic military man. He was staring off into space, looking past the football game.

"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked worriedly.

"Just some...advice." He paused before continuing. "I know what it's like to...care about your coworkers. I know I'm really not the model for behavior you should imitate, but just hear me out. If you wait, one day he won't be back. Or you won't be there when he finally returns. Or you'll be separated by a force field on a ship that's about to explode, and time will be out. He should know. I know I'd want to know." He took another quick swig of beer to signal the end of his little speech, and Elizabeth felt irritation start to rise in the back of her throat.

"Why didn't you ever tell Sam then?" she asked frankly, turning away from him.

He sighed. "Same reason you won't take my advice. Fear. And there were always...other people."

She laughed wryly at that. "They call him Captain Kirk, you know."

He shot her a sympathetic look. "Sorry. That label probably applied more to me than to her, but she got a steady boyfriend. Agreed to marry him."

"Pete Shanahan, wasn't it?" Elizabeth smiled at him in empathy. "That can't have been easy, letting her go."

He fiddled with his beer label. "Yeah, I never actually got around to that." He sighed. "Look, just...don't make the same mistakes I did."

She was about to answer when a shout from John cut her off. "Come on, Elizabeth! I'm drafting you to replace McKay!"

"I am not that bad!" McKay yelled back, irritated.

"I'm really not much of a football player—" she started, but stopped when Jack put his hand on her arm.

"Stop distancing yourself. It doesn't make it any easier," he said softly.

She stared at him for a moment. Suddenly, without turning away from her, he yelled, "You can take her! She has to be the worst dishwasher I've ever seen."

"Fine then," she said in mock indignation. "I'll go tackle some big, strong military men."

"Actually," John started, jogging over to her with football outstretched, "we made it touch football. Vala thought it was unfair since she couldn't tackle Ronon."

"All the better," said Jack teasingly with a suggestive eyebrow waggle in Elizabeth's direction. She blushed slightly and rolled her eyes, grabbing the football from John's hands.

"OK, let's go." She and John started back toward the "field," but not before a look of brief jealousy passed over John's face.

As they approached the other players, Carter discreetly excused herself so McKay could have her spot (with Mitchell declaring they were already ahead by so much it wouldn't matter). Elizabeth watched her...saunter over to where the general was seated and take his hand.

She stared at Jack in astonishment, but Jack's only response was a wink.

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Another A/N: I'm thinking of doing another chapter/companion piece with John and an SG-1 member. Would anyone be interested in reading it, and if so, who would you like to see the most? Thanks!