Bothered

The door of Jumper One slapped down on the floor with a clang, echoing through the nearly empty bay. The expedition scientists gathered near the exit pressed up against one another as John pushed past them. Every one of them had the good sense to keep their mouths shut as he marched down the plank, towards the smoking hull of Jumper Two.

Somewhere behind him Rodney was remarking on his behavior; someone else with better sense than he, Teyla, more than likely, put a quick stop to it. Probably for the best; Rodney was likely to get shot, or at least stunned, if he didn't put a sock in it.

The gangplank of Jumper Two put down swiftly, though not quickly enough for John's taste, who was up the mechanism before it had come to a stop. It was enough time for the troop of marines in the back end to rise in preparation for disembarking; they now stopped in mid-action, all of them stonewalled by the unexpected appearance of their CO.

"Out. Now."

They wasted no time; good at following orders but even better at knowing when a situation warranted immediate retreat. They were gone by the time John reached the cabin door, which conveniently slid open as he approached.

"What in the hell was that?!"

The youthful features of Major Lorne flinched at the expression on John's face; expecting the reaction but unprepared for the reality.

"Colonel…"

Some of the burn faded at the sound of Elizabeth's voice; she was seated in the co-pilot chair and rose as he turned her way, motioning Lorne to exit. John didn't move; fixing the Major with a stare that defied him to try.

"Colonel," she said again, crossing her arms over her TAC vest. "The damage wasn't his fault. I was the one who gave the order. He had no choice."

"Like hell he didn't," John spat back. "He ignored a direct order from his commanding officer."

"No, he didn't." Her expression hardened. "I rescinded your authority."

"And what in god's name made you think you could do that?!"

"I am the head of this Expedition. And you were in a compromised situation."

"What?"

"Your ship was taking heavy fire from a Wraith Cruiser. You had no weapons left and your passengers were in serious danger. Your leadership was compromised."

John fixed her with a cold stare, fists clenched. He had not gotten this angry with Elizabeth for a long time. Not for a very long time.

"Major, you can go," he said, as calmly as he could manage through a set of clenched teeth.

Lorne cast a timid glance between them, hesitating for a moment. Elizabeth offered him a slight nod and after a few seconds the young man turned, eyes to the floor, and pushed past him.

"We're not finished," John called behind him.

Lorne paused at the gangplank, offering a solemn and respectful nod. "Yes, Sir."

He watched him go, turning back to Elizabeth as she shed her tactical vest and belt, an unreadable expression on her face. He recognized it; it was the face she used when dealing with someone who was being difficult. That was how she handled the tensest negotiations, with a stony demeanor and a hard hand.

She now considered him the same. And for some reason, that angered him more than the command she'd disobeyed that had started this mess in the first place.

"Don't ever do that again," he hissed, stepping forward into the cabin. "You have an issue with how I command, you take it up with me, alone, and not in front of my men. Do you understand me?"

Elizabeth studied him for a moment, frowning. "You were the one who wanted to know why we turned around. I answered you."

"I'm not talking about that! I'm talking about overriding my orders in the middle of a goddamn firefight!"

"You were in trouble, John. Every single one of them knew it. They were waiting for an excuse to turn around."

"And they were given an order not to for a reason. Which now, thanks to you, they're questioning. Along with my authority!"

"No one is going to question your authority," she replied. "Your Jumper was taking heavy fire. Your team was in danger. They understand breaking protocol to save lives."

"That is not the point!"

"Then what is the point?"

"That you do not disobey a direct order from your superior. Ever. And no one, especially not the civilian head of a scientific expedition, has the right to tell you otherwise!"

Elizabeth took a step towards him, arms crossed. "And you are the last person I ever expected to hear lecture me about obeying the chain of command."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"That you don't have the best track record as far as following orders when your people are in danger."

He could feel the blood rising in his face. "What I do—or don't do—doesn't have anything to do with what they do. They happen to be better soldiers than I am. But the minute they have a reason to doubt the way things work around here is when they become a liability and everyone else gets put in danger!"

"So, then, what? I'm supposed to stand by and watch you and the rest of your team get killed because you think only you have the right to defend your lives? I'm sorry, John, but I'm not going to do that." She started to move past him, but he stepped in her way, blocking the door. Elizabeth raised her chin, fixing him with a stare that could have melted steel.

"You don't have a choice," he replied through clenched teeth. "This was a combat situation. You had no authority to order anything or rescind my command!"

"I am still the head of this Expedition, civilian or not. And whether you like it or not, if there is a situation that endangers the lives of the people under my care, I am not going to just sit back and let them die. I am going to do everything in my power to see to it that they stay alive. You, of all people, should understand that."

"I do understand that, Elizabeth. I also understand that you're not doing anybody any favors trying to be something that you're not!"

Her eyes narrowed. "I may not be qualified as a military commander, but I have enough sense to know when you're in a situation you can't get out of. We saved your ass back there."

"Save…excuse me? You think that's what you did with that half-baked maneuver? You put yourself, my men AND my team in danger and you think you were saving my ass?"

A flicker of surprise flashed across her face. "So diverting fire and drawing them off your tail was a stupid maneuver? If we hadn't come back when we did you who knows what would have happened?!"

"You don't know that, Elizabeth! How many times do you think we get into situations like that when you're not there? You took heavy fire. You blew your damn shield and one of your engine pods! Your actions today endangered every single person on that mission, including those scientists, the marines on your jumper! Just because you happen to be personally observing does not mean you know or understand what goes on out there!"

"Don't lecture me about what happens out there!" she shouted hotly. "That was not my first firefight—and I've been on the receiving end of those situations way too many times, John! Do you think I like hearing that your or your team members have been shot down, or captured, or killed? Even when there's been a mistake? Even when you come back safe and sound? If I can do something now to prevent that happening again, even if it means getting caught up in it, then yes! I'm going to do it!"

"Protecting my team is my job. Not yours. You can be as self-righteous as you want, but in the end, you're just screwing with the system and placing everyone, including yourself, in more danger!"

"Fine," she replied, her tone suddenly icy. "Call it whatever you want. But don't pretend it didn't make a difference out there today."

"I'm not pretending anything. The only thing you managed to do today was damage a jumper and confuse a bunch of marines."

She studied him for a moment, her mouth set in a thin line. He ran a hand across his face, some of the anger waning, and turned to leave.

"If I hadn't been in that jumper, would you have had a problem with this?"

He glanced back at her in shock. "What?"

"If I hadn't been in the jumper—would you have been as upset about this?"

"If they'd disobeyed an order, you're damn right I would have!"

"But you wouldn't have given them the order to turn away in the first place, would you, John? You would have requested they do exactly what they did. Just not with me in it. That's what this is really about." She strode forward, raising her chin. "My being in that jumper should have made absolutely no difference."

"You are the head of the expedition. It's my job to…"

"SO WHAT!?" She threw her hands up, her voice ringing through the bay. "Why am I any different than members of my team? I can be replaced, John. You, your team, a number of our best scientists—why are they any less important?"

He opened his mouth, trying to find an explanation. His chest felt tight and his hands were trembling; he was furious and yet what she'd said ran in a strange loop through his head. I can be replaced…

They stood there for a moment in stony silence, staring. Elizabeth broke away first, turning to slide past him. He edged away, but as her body brushed against his something in the pit of his stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he knew he couldn't leave it like this.

He shot out a hand, grabbing her elbow. She looked back, her face a mixture of anger and irritation, and tried to shrug away. The knot in his chest tightened as he pulled her closer; he was having a difficult time catching his breath.

"Can't you let me protect your damn life just once in a while?! And keep you safe?"

She stopped struggling, her lips parting as she studied his face in surprise. He released her arm, frustrated, and moved for the doorway.

Elizabeth reached out, catching his face in her hands, an anguished expression in her eyes. And suddenly she was pressed against him, her lips finding his, a kind of desperation in her manner as she shoved herself into his arms.

He stumbled, backing into the flight net of supplies they carried with them. There was something sharp edging into his shoulder blade but he didn't care; it seemed impossible to imagine he'd wanted this and yet somehow he knew it was exactly what he wanted.

Her fingers slid into his hair, her lips soft, searching, but somehow frantic, seeking something. Everything he'd felt, watching her endanger her life, that split second of unparalleled fear before the smoke had cleared, came flooding back to him and he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him.

Something around them crashed to the ground; he spun her around, pressing her against the wall of the ship. She slid her arms around his neck, her lips still searching, only this time it was need more than desperation; desire more than fear. He softened his hold, letting her nestle against him, his hands running up the length of her back, one running through her hair.

She pulled away first, taking a deep breath; he leaned towards her, resting his forehead against hers, his hands finding the shape of her face. Elizabeth swallowed, closing her eyes.

They stayed that way for a moment, until John's breathing had almost returned to normal. Elizabeth stepped out of the embrace, leaving him feeling uncomfortable and uncertain, and moved towards the door. Her foot caught on some of the supplies littering the area around them and she stumbled; he barely managed to catch her before she fell forward.

"Thanks," she mumbled as he helped her to her feet. He released her again and swallowed, trying to think of something to say, unsure of what exactly to do. "Elizabeth, I…"

"Don't," she breathed softly, turning to look at him. Her cheeks were still flushed, though the expression on her face looked as lost and confused as he felt.

There were a lot of things he could have tried to say and in his head they sounded right, but somehow he knew they weren't as simple as he wanted to make them. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions; the anger not quite gone and yet somehow overshadowed by a feeling much more potent and strong.

Elizabeth turned, picking her way through the mess. Part of him wanted to stop her, and talk out what happened. Another part wanted to let her go; the weaker part. Because if he did, they wouldn't have to talk about it and nothing would have to change.

She paused at the gangplank, turning back as he bent down to pick up the scattered supplies. "John…"

He looked up, one arm resting on his knee, a strange, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm sorry. That was…"

He swallowed, holding up a hand. "Don't…it's…fine."

"I just…I don't want…"

"It won't."

She studied the floor for a second, twisting her hands together. "I can send out a notice—tell them I was out of line about the commands. If you're concerned…"

"Don't worry about it. Like I said, they're better soldiers than I am. They know how this works."

"I know they do." She pursed her lips, backing away, then paused. "And John?"

He raised his eyebrows in response; her expression turned serious. "You do that, you know. Every day."

John rose, confused. "Do what?"

"Keep me safe." She smiled, looking a little shy, then turned and walked away, leaving him staring behind her as she left the bay. It didn't feel as awkward as just a few minutes ago, though he had no doubt they'd be the only two who knew exactly what had happened today. And that was fine by him.

His lips were still warm and ached a little bit, and his shoulder hurt, but he smiled anyway. It had been worth it. Everything, including the argument and the mess. More than worth it.

When it was cleaned up, it wouldn't be exactly as it had been before. But, more often than not, it was better.

It certainly felt like it now.