milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Elizabeth Weir is in a far better mood than she has been since she found herself bound in Milliways.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it's a lovely day outside.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she didn't even think to try the main door today, to go back to her world.

Or maybe it's that she's on her third candy bar.

The options are many; the answers are few.

At any rate, she finds herself a barstool, breaking off a piece of chocolate from her newest bar and popping it into her mouth before ordering a root beer.

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"Well...not dead, not mutating into a bug, no new grey hairs...yeah, I'm okay. Doesn't mean I'm not keeping an eye out for him, though."

"Good." Quickly, and firmly.

"'Cause I don't need to -- I can't see that again."

No elaboration.

"Yeah. I'd...kinda like to avoid it."

He doesn't see any need to elaborate, either.

Sheppard's stomach rumbles, providing a handy distraction.

"You said the candy's free?"

"That I did," Elizabeth nods, and Bar provides Sheppard with a bar of his very own.

"I'd...like to avoid it too."

Watching Sheppard, and the Wraith walking into the room...

"I'm never sending you out on missions, if we get back to Atlantis."

The bar is eaten quickly-he's hungry after all, and chocolate is welcome. It tastes better than the typical powerbar, at least.

Sheppard raises an eyebrow again, but this time it's accompanied by a bit of smirk. "Then what would I do? Stay in Atlantis and make stuff explode there?"

His attention goes back to the Bar briefly. "Could I have another one of those?" Sure enough, it appears, and Sheppard mutters his thanks as he begins eating again.

Rolling her eyes, "Might make my days at the office more entertaining."

"You'd kick me back out through the gate eventually," he says, still smirking. "Or somebody else would drag me through it."

After a moment, he adds, "Y'know, this is really good candy," as he sits down on a barstool, somehow managing to slouch more than usual.

"Some days I can't even watch you people leave," and Elizabeth continues in present tense even though she hasn't been to Atlantis in weeks and may never have her city back.

"We usually come back in one piece, right? Mostly. We just kinda...blow a lot of stuff up in the process. But we get through it."

Well, most of them do, anyway. But that's not a train of thought he wants to follow.

"Usually," Weir retorts, and there's frustration where there wasn't before, "Unless I get to watch my military commander get fed on!"

That gives him pause.

"Yeah, that....wasn't exactly fun for me, either," he mutters, frowning to himself.

Technically, it was the third time he's died or come close enough to it. At this point, he'd like someone else to take over the 'miraculous recoveries from landing on death's doorstep' bit.

"Well...stop it."

She sounds childish. She even vaguely realizes it.

Elizabeth just doesn't care.

"It's not like I stand out there and yell 'hey Wraith! I'm tasty!'," he can't help but point out. "I think I have kind of...lucky-unlucky thing."

"In the way that you're lucky with random alien princesses and unlucky with keeping yourself safe."

"I was thinking I was lucky with staying alive no matter what." Although the mention of alien princess of the week thing does earn another smirk.

Elizabeth snorts incredulously and finishes her root beer.

"If you say so," she replies far too immaturely for John's experience.

Sheppard's not feeling entirely mature himself anymore. In a way, it's nice-easier to relax this way, even with say, Wraith wandering around the bar.

"Hey, it fits, right? Nothing's killed me a hundred percent yet...besides that one universe with the alternate you. Does that even count?"

"Well...no. Then of course you didn't exist except as a hallucination in the world the nanites created in my head," Elizabeth rambles.

"I meant the one with the old-you we found. You hallucinated me?"

He pauses, considering this. "Huh."

"Not like that, but my brain was tryin' to make me -- Oh, nevermind. You don't care anyway."

Sheppard holds back a snort of laughter-just barely-at her first comment. Then he raises an eyebrow, looking curious. "Who says I don't?"

"Me."

Duh?

"Hey, I'm interested. It's not like people hallucinate me everyday. ...At least I'm pretty sure they don't."

"Of course, the hallucinating you're probably hoping for doesn't involve me in and out of a mental hospital.

"I hope."

"...No? You hallucinate some weird stuf...but that's probably kinda expected, because y'know. Nanites."