Wrong Kind Of Guy

It was all John's fault. It usually was.

Not that he could have had any inkling of what would happen that afternoon.

Not that she could have guessed the way things would change in a single afternoon.

The day finished more or less the same as always. The final bell rang and Elizabeth Weir headed to her locker to dump the textbooks she wouldn't need that night.

Teyla Emmagen was already at her locker when Elizabeth came up. "You survived to the end of the day."

"Barely just," Elizabeth sighed. "Thank God it was Ancient History last and not Trig. I couldn't have handled Mr. Felger at this hour."

"He is...enthusiastic," Teyla noted with dry understatement. "And sometimes difficult to follow."

Elizabeth arched a brow at her friend. "Sometimes?"

A smile quirked the other girl's mouth, but all she said was, "You have heard about the dance?"

"It's hard not to."

"There is a great deal of interest in it," Teyla noted to Elizabeth as she closed her locker door after the final bell had rung. Rather than leaving immediately, the other girl leaned against her locker, her expression slightly puzzled. "Several girls have been asking who I wish to go with."

Elizabeth regarded the other girl with some curiosity. Teyla had arrived at the school halfway through their sophomore year, a reserved, quiet student who'd mostly gone her own way and did her own thing. While Elizabeth had become friends with the distinctive girl, she wasn't sure she could say what was on Teyla's mind at any given moment. "What did you tell them?"

"I did not know what to say," admitted Teyla with a shrug of the shoulders that seemed to be her way of describing so many of the customs of Shermer High. "So I said I did not know. They told me that I should get my act together or all the nice boys would be gone."

There was a certain truth to the other girls' words, Elizabeth reflected as she shut her locker door. There were quite a few nice guys at Shermer High - although the definition of 'nice' varied depending on your tolerance for all the quirks and foibles of the student body - but it would take most of the guys the full four weeks to get the courage to ask a girl to the dance.

Most girls weren't willing to wait four weeks for an invitation.

"Well, you could always try asking one of the football team," Elizabeth began, teasingly.

"Like me," interrupted a new voice from the side. "Hey, girls." John Sheppard jogged up, his black hair unruly as ever as he put his hands on his hips and regarded the two girls. "What's happening? What's Teyla supposed to ask me?"

Elizabeth had known John Sheppard most of her life - since his family had moved in down the block from hers when she was eight and he was nine. Between pulled pigtails and kicked shins, popsicles sneaked from his freezer, and handlebar bike-rides on her bicycle, they'd been friends for a long time.

She could barely remember a time when he hadn't irritated the heck out of her.

Right now, he was doing it by so casually interrupting her conversation with Teyla without so much as an 'excuse me' or a 'by your leave'.

"We are discussing the Founder's Dance," Teyla said. "Interest was expressed in who I was taking and Elizabeth suggested I ask a member of the football team to go with me." The dark eyes glanced at Elizabeth.

John leaned against the wall opposite their lockers and smirked. "Yeah," he said, hazel eyes gleaming, "sure I'll go with you, Teyla."

Both girls stared at him.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what was going through Teyla's mind but she was fighting the urge to slap John one. Okay, so they weren't dating and never had, but they were good friends and if there was any guy whom she'd expected to ask her, it would have been John.

And he'd just glibly agreed to go to the dance with Teyla.

A glance at Teyla showed the other girl utterly astonished at the acceptance, and Elizabeth scrambled for a grip on her anger. Teyla was nice - really nice - not one of the 'lipstick and squee' crowd at the school. If John had to go with anyone else, Elizabeth was glad it was Teyla - although it did sting a little.

Of course, Teyla being Teyla, didn't remain astonished for very long.

And, being Teyla, she didn't let John sit smugly on his laurels either. "If you recall, John," she said pointedly, "I did not ask you come with me to the dance."

It was John's turn to look poleaxed, and Elizabeth bit back a laugh and wished desperately for a camera.

"I am sorry," Teyla continued, her voice sweet and gently mischievous, "if you are disappointed that I have not asked, but I wish to keep my options open. There are, as Mr. O'Neill reminds us, many good fish in the lake."

John was a very pleasing shade of salmon by this stage, and Elizabeth started giggling. She couldn't help herself. He just looked so horrified and embarrassed and furious and shocked... The next minute Teyla had joined her, and the two girls laughed themselves to tears while John sulked at them from the wall opposite their lockers.

"Okay, all right," he said at last. "Very funny, Teyla. Ha-ha." He rolled his eyes as the girls wiped theirs. "See if I ever ask you to anything again!"

Teyla was still giggling madly. "You have not asked me the first time, John," she managed. "So there is no 'again' to it."

Elizabeth was gasping for breath, holding onto her locker to keep herself upright. She pulled some tissues from the stash inside her locker and handed a bunch over to Teyla as John scowled.

"Fine. Whatever. What I came to tell you - both of you - before being so rudely made fun of, was that there's a team meet happening out on the bleachers in fifteen. Teyla, that includes you. Try to be there." His tone of voice was sardonic as he turned to Elizabeth. "Liz, I won't be heading home for another hour. Try not to miss me too much!"

Clearly pissed off with them, he stalked off down the corridor

"I won't," Elizabeth called after him.

He flipped her the bird without looking back.

Teyla giggled again, dabbing at her eyes. Then sobered a little, although her smile stayed. "Oh, that was most satisfying! The look on his face--!"

Considering the corners of her mouth kept pulling up at the memory, Elizabeth had to agree. "You know he's just going to take it out of you during the next practice, though."

"Probably," the other girl admitted. "But that is nothing new," she said mildly. "They are guys. They like testing me. And I have not broken yet." With a slight smile, she picked up her satchel again. "I had better go or John will have his revenge for my comment. Be safe."

"You, too," Elizabeth said as she closed her locker.

The other girl walked away, and Elizabeth smiled all the way out to the school gate.

--
NOTES: Yes, this is the first part of a reasonably big crackfic. Another one. *stabbities the muse*
ETA: Part Two. TITLE: Wrong Kind Of Guy - Part Two
AUTHOR: Tielan
SUMMARY: He wasn't Elizabeth's choice of knight in shining armour, but he'd do. In a pinch, she wasn't going to be picky.
CATEGORY: crackfic, AU
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: This is another WIP, about 8,000 words short of finishing. I'm hoping that getting it out will produce a little encouragement to keep writing the story, because the muse is slightly stalled. I can't quite work out what to call the story, it was either this or 'Knitting Orangutangs' - and that seemed a little esoteric.
Part One was initially titled 'Invitation' and is the snowball that starts off the whole series. It's probably best to read that chapter first before getting into this one.

"sugargroupie"> can consider this her birthday present. And possibly muse inspiration? *g*

She wasn't smiling when she turned the corner into the street and nearly bumped into someone coming into the alleyway.

Her first instinct was to apologise.

Her second was to run.

"Hello, Elizabeth." Aaron Kolya regarded her with a predator's smile, one hand resting on her arm where he'd grabbed to stabilise them both after the initial collision. "How nice to see you here."

"Kolya," she said, making a curse of his name. "Can't say the same."

Kolya was the leader of gang of guys who'd attended the other high school in the region. He held a long-standing enmity for John that went back several years, and somehow Elizabeth had gotten caught up in it. It probably was some stupid macho thing to do with possession and ownership - not that she was owned by John in any case.

But she was careful never to show fear around him.

He eyed her, the handsome, heavy features of his face shifting into a subtle smile that chilled her to the marrow. He made a show of looking up and down the empty alley. "What? No Sheppard?"

Elizabeth pulled her arm from his grasp. "We're not joined at the hip!"

"Too bad for him," murmured Kolya as he looked her over. Her skin crawled like spiders were walking over it. "Headed home alone, then?"

"I don't want your company!"

She turned and began walking again, only to gasp when he caught her arm. A tingling pain began in her forearm as he dug his fingers into a nerve cluster with ruthless pleasure. Elizabeth looked up at him. There were tears forming in her eyes but rage formed her lips about her words. "Let. Me. Go."

He loosened his grasp on her, but didn't completely let her go. Instead, his fingers stroked down her arm in a parody of a caress. "Too good for anyone but Sheppard, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth jerked away. "Get your hands off me." She started to walk away, only to stop when the older boy slipped around her, blocking her exit. "Kolya..."

His smile was a study. "Elizabeth?"

Right. Her diplomacy class with Ms. Johnson was studying negotiation tactics right now. When in a position of weakness, concede a few of the things they want, play for time, keep your advantages close and look for the crucial turnpoint in negotiations. "I'd like to go home," she said, adrenaline fuelling her thoughts.

"Oh, you'll go home," he replied, "eventually."

She didn't like the sound of that 'eventually' but it wasn't as though she had a choice. "Talk while you walk," she said, working at keeping her voice calm. "I want to get home now."

"We don't always get what we want," said Kolya. At least he wasn't smiling now, although his expression was almost worse than the slight smile he'd worn before. "Although sometimes we do."

Elizabeth slapped his hand away as he ran his fingers down her face. "Don't touch me!"

"Is there a problem?"

They'd been facing each other across the width of the alley and failed to notice the approach of a third party.

To say they were surprised was an understatement.

Ronon Dex wasn't one of the cool kids at school - or even one of the uncool kids. He was new to the area, and was in senior year, a johnny-come-lately to the cliques and groups of Shermer. There were all kinds of rumours about him, ranging from him being part of a street gang where the initiation ceremonies required you to carve your initials in someone's butt - deep enough to scar them forever, to his being a drug dealer, to his being brought up by natives in Africa.

The last was definitely untrue. Elizabeth had seen his record and he'd been born in Hawaii, a citizen of the United States.

Whatever the truth, the dreadlocked boy had kept his lips firmly closed about it. He also kept to himself, making no particular friends, although John had tried recruiting him for the football team, and Mark Lorne had tried recruiting him for track. Neither had any success.

He even shared a class with her - the senior English Lit. class. Although what he was doing in that class was questionable. Elizabeth had heard someone snigger that it would be like teaching an orangutang to knit.

In the two weeks since the start of school, Ronon's reputation had been established as someone not to cross. The consequences of such defiance included being bitten, stabbed, or possibly tied up and dragged along behind the motorbike he was reputed to own.

He wasn't Elizabeth's choice of knight in shining armour, but he'd do. In a pinch, she wasn't going to be picky.

And she was definitely feeling the pinch.

Ronon looked from Elizabeth to Kolya, then back to Elizabeth, then back to Kolya. "She doesn't seem too interested in you."

It was mildly observed, but Kolya's expression took on a slight edge.

"Looks can deceive," he replied, but his hand had dropped away from her, hovering by his pocket. No bullying, no blustering, just the preparation for a fight.

"They can," Ronon agreed, nonchalantly amiable. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his scruffy jeans, casually pushing back the edges of his jacket to show the hilt of the knife tucked into his belt.

Kolya was older and meaner, but Ronon had the muscle and the attitude down.

And he looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't fight by the rules.

She knew the thoughts that were running through Kolya's head. None of it showed on his face, but she knew.

Elizabeth flinched as Kolya leaned towards her. "There's always a next time," he murmured. And the look he shot her was a warning and a promise. He arched a mocking eyebrow at Ronon, who turned to watch him go, his hands staying near his knife as Kolya sauntered past him, down the alleyway and out into the street at the other end.

She let out a long breath and pushed her hair out of her face, resting her hands on her cheeks in an attempt to cool down the flushed skin. "Thanks."

"I'm guessing you didn't want him breathing down your throat." His hands were still stuck in his pockets, but he shifted slightly so the coat dropped back over the hilt of the knife.

"Good guess," she said. "He's a jerk."

"I can tell," he said. Somehow, he managed to smile while saying it, yet seem perfectly serious. And the way he looked at her made her blush all over again. It wasn't dirty or measuring, just...intent. "You okay?"

"He didn't get anywhere if that's what you're asking."

"I wasn't, but it's good to hear." He glanced down the alley. "Is he going to cause you trouble later?"

The shiver ran down her spine as she followed his look. "Probably. He doesn't like John."

"Has taste, then."

Elizabeth turned on him, ready to defend her friend, only to realise the gleam in his eye meant he was laughing at her. She flushed again - this time from embarrassment. "That's not funny."

He kicked at a drink can, making it spin across the alley in a dizzying twirl. "Made you look, though," he said as his mouth quirked even further. Then he glanced at her and pulled one hand from his pocket, gesturing towards the mouth of the alley and the street beyond. "I'll walk you home."

Elizabeth looked at him, then at his hand and rolled her eyes. If he thought she was going to be patronised, he had another think coming! "I'll be fine," she said and stalked out of the alleyway.

This time she didn't bump into anyone coming the other way.

However, she did have one Ronon Dex following her with a long-legged lope that easily kept alongside her. "Are you mad because I insulted your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" It was a common assumption among people - and one which she and John did nothing to encourage and nothing to discourage.

"Okay," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, but continued to keep pace with her.

Elizabeth turned on her heel outside the Wilsons' house and glared at him. He correspondingly stopped, tucking his hands back into his jacket pockets as she asked, "Why are you following me?"

He seemed surprised at her question. "I'm seeing you home."

As if she'd asked! "Shouldn't you ask me if I want you to see me home?"

"Did you want to run into that guy again?"

Her skin chilled. "He wouldn't."

"He might."

She glared at him. "Are you trying to intimidate me?"

He smirked at that. "Weir, if I was trying to intimidate you, you'd know it."

Fine. He'd set himself to be her guard dog. Whatever. If she wasn't going to get rid of him easily, then she might as well let him walk her home - although what her mom would say about him, Elizabeth couldn't imagine.

And she wasn't going to have him call her 'Weir' either.

"My name," she said pointedly, "is Elizabeth."

"And mine's Ronon," he replied. And when she set off again, he bounded into step beside her, like nothing so much as an oversized dog.

She didn't say anything to him for a whole block of shops, annoyed by his high-handed assumption of authority. She wasn't some fainting heroine who needed rescuing by the big hero!

Except that she had needed help to get away from Kolya, who was bigger, stronger, and a fighter besides.

"Thanks," she muttered as they waited at the street kerb for a car to go past.

"For?"

"The...the rescue."

He glanced at her. "See, that wasn't so hard."

Elizabeth felt her cheeks go hot again. "Was it so obvious?"

The large shoulders - he was really broad across the shoulders - lifted and fell as he stepped out onto the road. "You didn't like being helpless. Most girls don't."

She let the 'most girls' comment pass for the moment.

"So you think I should learn self-defence?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

"Teyla taught me some."

"She should have taught you better."

Elizabeth stopped to confront him, annoyed by his arrogance. "Do you always make judgement calls on people you don't know?"

"Do you always defend your friends this well?"

There was only one answer to that. "Yes."

"If she was a good teacher, maybe you weren't such a good student."

Elizabeth flushed. She hadn't really put any effort into learning the moves her friend had shown her, let alone practising them. There'd been other things to do, and she'd never had to defend herself before. Besides, she'd always felt violence should be a last resort.

Looking up at Ronon Dex, she reflected that she hadn't had anything else to resort to with Kolya. "Fine," she muttered. "I wasn't paying that much attention."

"You should pay a little more."

She didn't answer that.

Some junior high kids were running towards them in a whirl of sneakers and bag straps. Familiar with this crowd, Elizabeth knew that they wouldn't think twice about bowling her and Ronon over. She moved to the side of the path, flattening herself against the bole of a tree that had been planted back when the development was new. When Ronon didn't look like he was going to move out of the way, she reached out, snagged his jacket and hauled him out of the way.

The good thing was that she managed to get him out of the way in time before the kids pelted through.

The bad thing was that she found herself in really close proximity to a guy who was seriously built. And smelled male. Really male.

Wow.

Ronon frowned at her. "They would have moved."

Boys! "No," she said. "They'd have run you over."

She'd never seen a guy bare his teeth before, but, when Ronon Dex did, she could imagine that he really was part-wild like the rumours said. "They'd have tried."

"You're not that much muscle," she told him shortly. "That much ego, yes."

The only sign of his annoyance was the way his eyes narrowed, but when he spoke it was with the note of amusement she was rapidly becoming used to from him. "Do you always make judgement calls on people you don't know?"

Oh, this was great. Not that Elizabeth was a helpless heroine, but if she'd had to be saved by someone, couldn't it have been someone...reasonable? Even John would have been better than this. Possibly.

She ignored him and kept walking. After a moment he followed.

Elizabeth was grateful for the help in getting rid of Kolya, but the tailing? Not so much. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Following me around?"

"I'm seeing you home," he said. If there was a more reasonable tone with which he could annoy her, Elizabeth couldn't imagine it.

"You don't live in this area anyway."

"Nope."

"So what were you doing here in the first place?"

"Following you?"

She turned, caught his grin and just glared. The boy had a talent for getting her flustered - even John's glib cockiness had a different tenor to this. She could tell when John was trying to get her goat, Ronon seemed to have the ability to confound her without even trying.

She really wasn't usually like this with guys.

Then again, she didn't usually hang around with guys like Ronon Dex.

"How are you finding the school?"

"It's fine."

"Not much like your old school?" Not that anyone knew anything about his old school. Not that anyone knew all that much about Ronon Dex.

"Not really."

It was like getting a conversation out of Rodney when he was working on one of his projects. Worse, actually. At least you could get conversation out of Rodney that was related to the project in question, although anything else would be forgotten, dismissed, or only recalled three hours later with a, "What do you mean you're four months pregnant?"

Of course, since he'd blurted that out in front of his mom and sister, Elizabeth had been required to do some very fast explaining before Jeannie got on the phone and told all her college friends that her little brother had knocked up the girl across the road.

And she'd only said it to see if he was listening, anyway.

Ronon, on the other hand, was definitely listening. He just wasn't...interfacing.

And Elizabeth was getting tired of it. "Are you going to actually talk to me, or just grunt?"

He gave a shout of laughter, deep and exultant. "I used words," he protested.

"Not a lot of them."

"Not enough for you?"

"You could at least talk to me!"

"Walking you home is one thing, carrying on a conversation is another." But he was still laughing at her, and Elizabeth stormed past the last two houses without so much as a word.

The garage door was shut which meant her mom wasn't home. Just as well. Elizabeth didn't want to explain why this strange guy was walking her home to her mother, who was a barrister with one of the town's major law firms and cross-examined her daughter in exactly the same manner that she did witnesses. God only knew what she'd make of Ronon.

At the door, her conscience reminded her about being polite and she made a face at the glass pane and shoved her key in the lock. Then she turned and was surprised to find him waiting by the letterbox, taking in the house and garden with some wariness.

So he wasn't coming in, then? Well, that was one less thing to worry about. "Thanks for the help."

He glanced up at her. "You're welcome." His smile was quiet and warm and gave her a similarly quiet and warm feeling in her stomach. For all his teasing on the way home, Elizabeth got the feeling he had depths that nobody at Shermer had seen.

A guy that helped out a girl he didn't even know, then walked her home and didn't expect to be invited in?

Definitely depths.

It was a change from the guys she was used to, most of whom were about as subtle as sledgehammers on her grandmother's bone china. Even if he wasn't quite presentable. The phrase 'scruffy-looking' came to mind.

It was weird that Elizabeth felt oddly shy as she searched for something else to say - something to finish the conversation.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Not that they were going to hang out or anything, she was just being polite.

Ronon shrugged, his jacket making a soft huffing noise. "It's school," he said. Then he winked once and strode off the way he'd come, his hands back in his pockets.

Elizabeth watched him go.

--

By the next day, she'd put the incident with Kolya in the back of her mind and wasn't thinking about Ronon Dex at all.

And then Rodney cancelled lunch on her.

It was a nice day for autumn. Cooling but not cold, with a blue sky offset by the reds and golds of the dying maple leaves. Elizabeth was glad to be at a school with nice grounds and not some cold, grey block in the middle of one of the bigger cities.

She'd found a nice place out on the terrace - a bit of sun but not too much, and not the corner where the wind eddied - and was waiting for Rodney to turn up while picking through the questionable contents of her own lunch.

When he did, he sat down and wrinkled his nose at her lunch.

"That looks awful."

"Tastes it, too," she said lightly. Then she noticed he didn't have his bag or any lunch himself and her good mood fled. "Rodney..."

He saw her expression change and hurried on. "Ms. Carter agreed to let us set up the generator project in one of the labs! She's going to supervise us during the lunch hour." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "You can come and watch if you want."

Elizabeth wasn't minded to watch him fawn and fluster over Ms. Carter, who was really rather gorgeous as well as being intelligent. But it was his way of being generous and sharing his time. Never mind that she'd hoped to just hang out with him for a change. "I think I'll pass," she said.

"Okay. Your funeral." And off he went, taking her good mood with him.

It would figure, she supposed as she chased her lunch around the plate with her plastic fork, that Rodney would have to be absent on the one day when she felt like talking to someone and none of her friends were available.

She stuck her chin in her hand and glared at her lunch, then sighed. There were few things worse than eating lunch alone at this school. And after Rodney had so obviously stood her up...

Across the terrace, she angled to catch Ben Maroney's eye. She shared a few classes with him, and he wasn't bad company...

Her view across the room was cut off as a tray was set down on the table, and Ronon Dex flung himself into the seat across from her.

"Hey."

Elizabeth blinked. "Shouldn't you ask first? I might be meeting someone."

"Are you meeting someone?"

"I was."

"But you're not now?"

"I might have been."

"But you're not," he repeated, looking across at her. "Unless I'm ruining your image."

Elizabeth scowled at him, offended that he could think that of her. She'd never hesitated to associate with the people she thought were interesting, whatever their social status. If other people didn't understand, then she considered that their problem, not hers.

"I don't have an image to ruin," she retorted.

His fork paused over his food. "You think so?"

"I know so."

The expression on his face was disbelieving, but he plunged the fork in and began eating with about as much gusto as she would have expected from Rodney.

Oh, well, she thought to herself as he spun the spaghetti on his fork. At least he doesn't talk with his mouth full of food. She hadn't yet been able to break Rodney of that habit. And she'd been trying for at least two years now.

"So," she said. "Good day?"

"Only halfway through," he said. "Yours?"

"Only halfway through," she replied, and watched him check, then smile. "Trigonometry with Mr. Felger, and Ancient History with Dr. Jackson."

"Sounds tricky," he said.

"It's quite interesting," she defended. "Did you know the Ancient Romans used to place their right hand on their testicles when taking an oath? And that it's where we get the term 'testimony' from?"

Ronon paused in his eating. "I didn't need to know that."

"It's still interesting."

"Difficult for women to give an oath, though."

"Well, they couldn't," she said shortly. "A woman's word wasn't considered valid." She was still slightly pissed off about that. Dr. Jackson had tried to explain it as delicately as possible, but the girls in the class had still been horrified, and the boys had been raucously amused until Dr. Jackson shushed them.

"Because she didn't have balls?" Ronon looked like he was trying to hide a smile, and Elizabeth glared at him.

"You're angling for a kick under the table, you know."

He shifted, but the smile stayed. "I find it funny."

"Well, I don't! If you'd been a secondary citizen at any time in your life--"

Ronon gave her a long, hard look and she stuttered into silence.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said after a moment. "Do you need an escort home this afternoon?" The change of topic was unsubtle, but the question caught her by surprise. Of all the things she would have expected him to say, that definitely wasn't on the list.

"Are you offering?"

He watched her for a moment, as though deciding how to answer her.

"Only if you need one," he said.

She was in two minds about it. John had football practise on after school today, which meant she'd be walking home alone again. On one hand, she didn't want it to look like she needed Ronon's protection. On the other, she didn't really want to run into Kolya again.

And there was no way in hell that she was even going to vaguely mention her encounter with Kolya to John. For starters, he'd tease the heck out of her for needing to be rescued; then he'd go all caveman-protective of her. Not her idea of fun by a long shot.

"I'd like..." Elizabeth paused, feeling her heart pound in her chest again. It was just a friendly request. "I'd like it if you would. If it's not too far out of your way."

He shrugged. That seemed to be a 'yes' as far as she could tell. It wasn't an outright 'no' anyway.

For the rest of the lunch period, she chattered about classes and people, and he commented, or occasionally said something trying to get a rise out of her. She got better at realising when he was teasing, and although there were a couple of points where she wondered if she'd said something wrong, it was only a momentary pause before he had a comeback.

By the time the bell rang and they headed off to their classes, Elizabeth was glad Rodney had cancelled after all.

--

Compared with his behaviour at lunchtime, Ronon was terse in his answers on the walk home. Elizabeth found herself wondering if she'd done something wrong,

Or maybe it was just a guy-mood. John had them. Rodney had them. Hell, even her dad had them from time to time. It wasn't PMS, but it was just as terse.

They were coming out of the alleyway before she finally scraped up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering her for most of the afternoon.

"Why did you react about the 'secondary citizen' thing at lunch?"

He was quiet for a while, and she almost repeated the question. Then she caught the look he gave her, like he was measuring his words. Finally, he said, "Have you ever been a secondary citizen?"

"I'm a girl."

The sidelong glance he gave her was both appreciative and amused. "I can see that."

Elizabeth flushed. "Women are the unmentioned secondary citizens of America."

"Nobody mentions you?"

"We're disadvantaged because we're female," she said. "I mean, they tell us that we can do anything, but what they mean is we can do anything that the guys let us do."

"Like defend yourself from attackers?" Ronon kept walking.

"That's just me. Have you seen Teyla in gym class?"

"I've fought her in gym class," Ronon said. "She's good."

"She is, isn't she?" Elizabeth had little or no skill in sports, while Teyla seemed to have enough for the two of them. On the other hand, Teyla didn't have the academic ability that came easy to Elizabeth. "But that still doesn't answer why you got so huffy when I mentioned secondary citizens."

"I didn't get huffy," he said. "You don't think it's ironic that you should talk about privilege as a middle-class, white girl?"

She wasn't liking where this was going. "It's not like I asked to be born as I am!"

"Nobody does. It's still ironic."

"So you're saying that I can't talk about being a secondary citizen just because I happened to be born middle-class and white?" Elizabeth felt slapped.

"Now who's getting huffy?"

"Answer the question!"

"I'm saying you're a pretty, admired honours student at Shermer, whose not-boyfriend is the Captain of the football team. You're not the first person anyone would choose to talk about disadvantage."

"Anyone can experience disadvantage," she said, angrily. "It's not all about race!"

"Didn't say it was."

He kept walking, so she did, too. But resentment bubbled within her at his easy dismissal of her background.

You're a pretty, admired honours student at Shermer...

Elizabeth stopped. Ronon kept walking. She stared at his retreating back, her cheeks flushed.

About a half-dozen yards ahead of her, he paused and turned back. "You okay?"

You called me pretty.

She knew she was pretty. Hearing a guy say it, though - and so off-handedly - that was different. John never gave her compliments. Other girls, yes - her, no. And Rodney wouldn't know about compliments if they smacked him in the face.

Ronon certainly didn't have the faintest idea of how those words affected her - a warm glow in her stomach.

Not that it made her any less angry about his dismissal.

"Fine," she said, a little shortly.

Ronon picked up on it and tilted his head as she came alongside him. "Still mad?"

"Yes."

"Because I don't think you're disadvantaged?"

Elizabeth saw the Roxtons drive past and lifted a hand to wave at Mrs. Roxton. "Because you dismissed my opinion just because I don't fit your idea of disadvantaged!"

"I never said I dismissed your opinion," he said.

"You just don't think I know what I'm talking about."

"Have you ever experienced disadvantage for the way you look or who you are? Seriously?"

"Yes."

"When?"

She paused. Okay, so the example she had in mind wasn't about her specifically, but it still worked. "Teyla had all kinds of difficulties getting on the football team."

Ronon made a dismissive noise. "I wasn't asking about Teyla. I was asking about you."

"Kolya - the guy from yesterday."

"You said he disliked Sheppard."

"But he thought he could pick on me because I'm a girl."

"He thought he could pick on you because you can't defend yourself."

Elizabeth closed her teeth around her initial retort and just managed to get out, "I never had to defend myself before."

"Thought about learning?"

"Teyla doesn't have time."

He gave her an odd look. "I do."

"So you're offering again?"

"If you like." He was pretty cool about it, all things considered. It was like something he'd have offered anyone, not just Elizabeth.

But he'd called her pretty.

She considered the offer for a couple of houses. On one hand, it was nice to have company walking home; on the other, she didn't want to need company simply because she was afraid of meeting Kolya and his gang on the way. And, knowing Kolya, he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

There was no way she was going to mention this to John unless she absolutely had to. That went the same for her parents, or Rodney and his family, because Rodney was almost incapable of keeping secrets since his mind didn't work in the same timezone as anything else that happened around him.

Teyla knew how to keep secrets, but she'd be concerned. She might even mention her concerns to John. Another no-go. Besides, between keeping up her grades while holding her place on the Varsity team, Teyla had more than enough to do.

Elizabeth wasn't going to add to that.

"Okay," she said as they stopped outside her house.

Ronon looked at her. "I promise to be nice."

"I'm sure." She kept most of the sarcasm out of her voice, at least. "You're the right size, anyway."

"For what?"

"An attacker." The words were deliberately provocative, and she felt the thrill of nerves as she waited for his response.

It came completely without warning. One moment he was walking beside her, within arm's reach, the next instant, she was pressed up against his side with one of his hands pulling her arm behind her back - firm, but gentle - and the other at her throat.

Elizabeth gasped in surprise, but no terror, and after a second, he let her go and stepped away. "You have no idea," he said and his eyes were very dark and very intent in his face. If Elizabeth had been asked at that moment if any of the rumours about Ronon Dex were true, then she would have replied, 'All of them.'

"Are you crazy? If anyone had seen you..." If her dad had seen that...or if the neighbours saw it and reported it to her dad...

"Come on," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along towards her house. "I can't believe you did that out in the street," she berated him. "Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do..."

He let her drag him up to the front door and waited as she unlocked it and hauled him inside.

"I don't see what was so stupid about it," he said shortly. "You wanted to learn self-defence--"

"And if anyone in the neighbourhood had seen you doing that, then you'd be in such trouble with my dad," Elizabeth said. "Come out the back."

The backyard was warm and sunny at this time in the afternoon, with the oak tree providing just enough shade to make the outdoors table and chairs a comfortable place to do homework in autumn and spring.

She got them lemonades - it was a relief not to have to go downstairs to the other fridge for a pepsi the way she had to with Rodney - some home-made cookies, and brought them out on a tray as he looked about the yard, taking in her mom's roses, her own miserable attempt at a vegetable garden, and the garden gnomes that dotted the landscape.

He looked startled when she set the tray on the table. "Wasn't I going to teach you how to defend yourself?"

Elizabeth looked up. "Don't you want something to eat?" She eyed him. "Rodney doesn't do anything without eating first."

"Do I look like Rodney McKay?"

She had to concede that one. "You're not hungry?"

He took a cookie - one of the choc-chips, not the snickerdoodles - and sat at the outdoor table. "I never said that."

"Have you done Mr. O'Neill's homework?" At his blank look, she elaborated. "The poems we were supposed to read?"

"Haven't got around to them yet."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but nibbled on her snickerdoodle. "Why'd you take English Lit. anyway?" Of all the senior guys who might have taken such a subject, she couldn't imagine why Ronon had chosen it. If she recalled correctly, he was doing an eclectic mix of subjects, no specific leanings - certainly not what would be expected of someone like him.

He grinned. "My mom told me to."

Her glass paused, halfway to her mouth. "Your mom told you to?" So not an answer she'd expected! "Do you always do what your mom says?"

"Nope," he said. "But neither do you."

"You don't know that."

"Don't need to," he replied. "I was short a subject, she said English Lit. And I can even read," he added, somewhat facetiously.

"I never said--" She bit off her words when she realised he was teasing her. Again. "You shouldn't do that."

The gleam in his eyes was distinctly mischievous. "It's fun."

His easy reply reminded her that she was supposed to be mad at him for his behaviour before, and she took a drink of lemonade and stood up. "Well, let's get on with it."

Ronon arched one brow as he finished his cookie and brushed himself off. "I can't teach you everything about self-defence in an hour, you know. I can show you how to get away from an attacker."

"That's what Teyla did."

"Why didn't you listen?"

"I didn't think I'd need it," she said, defensively. And at the time Teyla had started teaching her, she hadn't figured that she'd be attacked by anyone in or around Shermer. It wasn't as though this was downtown Chicago, after all.

She saw his expression, and scowled. "Are you going to teach me or not?"

Half an hour later, Ronon had showed her how to break free of a grip from behind, from the side, from the front, and was obligingly playing attacker for her - and taking her hits.

Okay, so Elizabeth was enjoying hitting him. There was a certain amount of satisfaction in the small jabs and attacks she landed on him, and she had the feeling he knew it - and allowed it.

"You're never going to be a fighter," he said when they paused a break. He'd flopped down in the grassy shade and she handed him his drink. "You're not direct enough."

"That's not a bad thing."

"Did I say it was?" He shrugged. "Sometimes fighting is needed."

"And sometimes it's not," Elizabeth pointed out.

Ronon propped himself up on his elbow. "You're a pacifist?"

"No, I just don't think that the first answer to every situation should be a fist in the face."

"Oh." He settled back down.

She climbed to her feet to get the plate of cookies. "Not your philosophy?"

"Sometimes a fist in the face is all they understand."

She was too nettled to really listen to his answer as she came back over to the grass. "Is that something you learned at Pegassus High?"

The stillness registered loudly in the quiet of the afternoon. A few houses down, the Carrington kids squealed and splashed about in their pool. And when Elizabeth looked at him, Ronon was watching her, something like resentment in his eyes.

He stood up, took his glass over to the table and put it onto the tray. "I should be getting home."

Elizabeth wasn't such an idiot that she couldn't recognise when someone was offended. And she wasn't so spineless as to just let him leave without having some idea of how she'd gotten him mad - again. "Was it because I mentioned your old high school?"

"No."

"Look, so you're not the usual kind of student at Shermer," she said impatiently. "That doesn't mean you have to get all huffy every time someone mentions it. It's not all about you."

"I know that."

"You're not behaving like it."

She had time for a squeak before he had her down on the grass, straddling her with one hand planted just below her throat. "You'd prefer I behaved like this?"

He hadn't taught her how to deal with that attack.

The grass was prickling her neck and the backs of her arms, but she looked up into the fierce, tanned features backlit by the autumn blue sky. "If you're trying to scare me, it's not working."

They probably weren't the best words to say - a challenge to him to try to scare her - but she wasn't afraid. She was startled, yes, but for all his size and speed, there was none of the menace Kolya had exuded. A dangerous competence, yes, but she could see his face, the darkly amused gleam of his eyes, and he didn't mean her harm.

Elizabeth was certain of it.

Okay, well, mostly certain.

She was right.

Ronon sat back on his haunches, effortlessly holding his weight off her body. "And Kolya thinks you're a lamb for the slaughter," he muttered.

She felt a little vulnerable as she brought herself up on her elbows. "I bite." The words were thrown out, not intended to be provocative. It took her a moment to realise what she'd said and how it could be taken - given that he was straddling her on the back lawn.

His laughter rang out as she flushed, biting her lip, and he swung his leg over her body so he landed on the grass beside her, tossing back dreadlocks. "Not too hard, I hope."

She'd just opened her mouth to make a quick retort at him when a new voice came from the house. "Lizzie?"

Crap.

Quickly, she jerked to a sitting position and glanced around the yard. "Mom?" Everything looked reasonable. Okay, so she had some leaves in her hair, and Ronon's knees were a little grassy, but...

The flyscreen door slid back, and her mom emerged, dressed as though she'd just gotten home from work. "Lizzie, I thought I asked you to fold up the washing this morning."

"Sorry, mom, but I had company." In fact, she'd forgotten about that chore entirely. "Mom, this is Ronon; Ronon, my mother."

"Hi, Mrs Weir," Ronon sat up, pushing back his dreads and climbing to his feet.

It was a relief to discover that if he could tease Elizabeth with impunity, he wasn't as comfortable at being found lounging about on the lawn by her mother.

"Hello, Ronon. It's nice to meet another of Elizabeth's friends from school." The slightest of emphasis on 'friend' said that Elizabeth's mom thought Ronon was nothing of the sort, but was going to allow the term to stand for the moment. "You're working with Elizabeth on a project?"

To give him his due, he picked up the thread better than John or Rodney would have. "Yes. We have English Lit. together."

"Oh, so you're a senior? Transferred from another school?"

"Just this year." Ronon shuffled his feet and glanced at Elizabeth. "I should be getting home."

At least he didn't sound like he was in the middle of a sulk anymore.

"Thanks for the study partnering," she said brightly - not that her mom would be one bit fooled.

"Yeah," he said as he swung his bag up on his shoulder. "See you tomorrow. Nice to meet you Mrs Weir."

If he was trying for 'harmless', Elizabeth didn't think he managed it. Her mom eyed him, not suspiciously so much as with her own private amusement. Elizabeth was in so much trouble once Ronon left.

"She doesn't believe it, does she?" Ronon muttered when they were in the hallway.

Elizabeth didn't glance back. Her mom wouldn't stoop to watching anyway - at least, not watching when Elizabeth could catch her. "No."

"Will you get into trouble?"

Her mom would probably fret and ask a few questions, but that wasn't 'trouble' per se. "No."

"Good." He gave her a quick, brief grin and a wink before he turned and walked away.

Elizabeth shut the door very carefully behind her before she went outside to bring in the drinks and cookies. Her mom was probably changing out of her work suit and thinking up all the questions she could ask her daughter about this guy who'd been stretched out on their lawn, casual as a cat.

When she came back inside with her books, her mom was waiting for her.

"I thought you and John were seeing each other."

"No, we're just friends." Although she wouldn't have minded if John asked her out, but he didn't seem to think of her that way. And he annoyed her enough as it was. If she was dating him, he'd probably annoy her a lot more.

"And are you 'just friends' with Ronon, too?"

Elizabeth had planned to do her homework at the dining room table, but dismissed it. She didn't want to sit through a grilling from her mother. "Yes," she said, crossly. "You can be 'just friends' with more than one person at a time, you know, mom."

Her mother opened the fridge. "Uhuh. Would you rather spaghetti for dinner, or chicken casserole?"

There was no way the conversation was going to just stop there. Her mother would start dinner - and the food wouldn't be the only thing getting a grilling. "Spaghetti," Elizabeth swung her bag up onto her back. Better not to tempt fate - or her mom's wrath. "I'm going to my room."

But the look she got from her mother indicated that she wasn't out of the danger zone yet.

Dinner was going to be fun.

--

Senior English Lit. was her last class of what had been a long day.

Elizabeth usually sat up the front of the class. It was easier to see, and Mr. O'Neill was one of her favourite teachers. It helped that he was good-looking in a mature kind of way - not the movie-star cute of Mr. Jackson or the guy-next-door adorability of Mr. Quinn - and had a great sense of humour. He liked Elizabeth, too, mostly because she paid attention and got good grades.

But when she entered the room, not all the students had arrived, and Ronon was sitting three quarters of the way up the back of the class.

She slipped into the desk in front of his, sitting sideways so she could easily talk to him. "You weren't at lunch today."

If he had been, she would have sat with him. As it was, she'd been mobbed by three girls who wanted to get all the summer gossip about John - not exactly her idea of a peaceful lunchtime.

He was sketching on a sheet of paper. "I ate elsewhere." The glance he gave her was both amused and challenging. "Miss me?"

A flush rose in her cheeks and she turned around and began unpacking her things.

"Did you get into trouble with your parents?"

"No," she dismissed. "Just the usual questions over dinner."

"And what did you tell them?" He muttered as their teacher walked into the room.

She glanced at Mr. O'Neill as he put down a folder of notes, and took out a box of chalks.

"I told them that we shared a class, and you were teaching me some self-defence stuff, of course," she muttered back before she paid attention to the lesson.

Mr. O'Neill wasn't as strict as some of the teachers who required the class' silence the instant they walked into the room. He was generally a nice, easygoing guy unless he thought you were wasting his time or wasting your potential. Either would get you the sarcastic side of his personality, instead of the dryly witty - and while Elizabeth could and had taken both, she preferred the dryly witty.

"Now," he said, tossing his chalk in the air and catching without even looking at where it fell, "I'm fairly sure that most of you won't have actually read the poems I set you, let alone made notes on them. So let's see a show of hands. Who read the poems?"

Elizabeth raised her hand along with about three quarters of the class.

"Keep your hand up if you made notes on the poems." Only about a quarter of the people who'd put their hands up kept them up. "Put your hand down if making notes involved writing, 'This is boring, I can't believe O'Neill is going to make us study this.'"

One girl put down her hand, grinning. Mr. O'Neill waved a finger at her. "Very funny, Erica. All right then. For those of you who didn't read any of the poems, you can take out Rupert Brooke's The Soldier and read it now. Those of you who read but didn't take notes, you can use this time to take notes on that one poem. And those of you who read and took notes can bask in the glory of self-satisfaction and think of questions to ask me, keeping in mind that I will probably turf the question out to the class in general. So if you want to be mean and nasty to your fellow students, you'll never have a better time. Elizabeth?"

She'd left her hand up when the others put theirs down. "Why did you get us to read The Soldier, Mr O'Neill?"

Dark eyes were mild and astonished, but good-humour lurked in the back of them. "Are you accusing me of nefarious intent, Miss Weir?"

"Well, he's an English poet."

"So is Shakespeare. And Milton, Barrett-Browning, and Tennyson, all of whom I assigned for homework." Mr. O'Neill spoke very mildly, but she could sense his amusement. It gave her pause because she had the feeling she was walking right into the parlour of the spider. And everyone was staring at her. "America doesn't have a monopoly on good anything, Miss Weir, and most especially not on good literature."

"I never said we do." Elizabeth replied steadily. "But The Soldier is talking about an English soldier who's saying that when he dies, some part of a field in another country is always going to be England because he's buried there."

"So it does," said Mr. O'Neill. "And?"

Her cheeks were flushing because she could feel that she was about to be taken down a peg, but she really did want to know the answer. "What's that got to do with us? I mean," she added hastily when he arched one of his eyebrows at her, "we're not English."

"But they're generally our allies," said Katerina Bishop.

"That doesn't mean we study their poetry."

"What about 'knowing thy enemy'?"

"Well, they're not our enemies for a start," said Chad Rollins. "But I'm with Liz. It's nice poetry, sure, but the guy dies away from home in a war and goes on about how he's forever English. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have gone to fight."

"So you're saying that only the people who are willing to fight for their country really love their country?" Elizabeth demanded.

"No," Chad retorted. "I'm saying that it's obvious he loved his country since he was willing to die for it. Not anything else. And I'm on your side about him being English and what it has to do with us?"

One of the reasons Elizabeth liked English Lit. was precisely this: because the dicussion often turned into a free-for-all. In spite of that, Mr. O'Neill never lost control of the class or lost track of where they were, and he had an ability to let the topic run its course, gently steering it in the directions he wanted.

"Patriotism."

Elizabeth turned around as silence descended on the class. She wasn't the only one surprised that Ronon had said anything in class.

Teaching orangutans to knit, she thought, both hiding her chagrin at the thought and her grin at the astonished expressions of the other kids.

"Yes, Ronon?"

"It's not about England or the English," Ronon said after a moment. "It's about patriotism." He didn't quite squirm with all the eyes on him, but Elizabeth figured it came pretty close.

"And?"

"Patriotism isn't limited to a single nation, any more than poetry is."

"Thank you, Mr. Dex, for that insight," said Mr. O'Neill, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice. "Patriotism isn't unique to the United States, any more than it was to the Englishman who wrote this poem. But the ideas this guy had are the same for a lot of people in and out of our armed forces." He looked around the room. "Last week, when I gave the introduction to this class, I asked you to consider what makes good poetry."

"The themes," someone said across the room. "Like Shakespeare and human nature."

Mr. O'Neill pointed at Brianne. "Exactly. Themes that transcend race and nation, and if we had aliens, hopefully them, too - Star Trek and emotionless races, notwithstanding. It's the themes you're going to read about in these poems that make them worth studying, decades and centuries after they were written. Styles change, the human race doesn't. Remember that."

The rest of the lesson was mostly spent reading the poems, sometimes silently, sometimes out loud. Mr. O'Neill generally liked to throw ideas out and see who took them up, or set people up to debate against each other. His only rule was no name-calling and no insults to anyone's intelligence.

At the end of the class, they were assigned partnered work for the whole semester. "Find someone in the class that you can work with for at least two weeks. I want the pair of you to each find a poem that contains the same themes as the poem we're studying that week."

Elizabeth sighed quietly to herself while others grumbled at the extra work.

"One poem per week," Mr. O'Neill said, firmly. "There are whole shelves in the library dedicated to poetry, and you should be able to pick a book off any shelf and find something suitable if you've come up with the correct theme." The dark eyes gleamed with amusement.

"So what are we doing with the extra poems?" John Charlwood demanded.

"We'll have one period each week where you discuss all three poems with your assignment partner and study the themes and ideas that each poem represents and how the poet conveys it." The lazy smile tugged to one side of his mouth. "And I expect you to surprise me with your wit and brilliance in dissecting these ideas."

Yeah, like that was going to happen.

Then again, Ronon had come up with an answer for Mr. O'Neill, quite beyond anyone's expectation. The orangutang had not only managed the basic knit-and purl, but done some complex cable-stitch into the bargain.

And if she took this simile too much further, it was going to get ridiculous.

While the other students all started catching each other's eyes and leaning over to try to arrange partnering with the people they liked, Elizabeth turned around to look at Ronon and arched an eyebrow.

"Okay," he said, half-smiling, although whether he was smiling at himself or at her, she didn't know.

She was a little surprised to discover she didn't really care, either.

And she ignored both the incredulous look of her usual study partner, Kate Heightmeyer, and Mr. O'Neill's amused glance when she turned back around.

--

When the final bell rang, she headed for her locker, passing Teyla on the way. The other girl seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere, because she didn't stop to talk and moved on with nothing more than a wave.

Elizabeth took her time sorting through her books. John would wait. He'd probably be flirting with all the sophs and juniors who passed by. And there were more than a few who thought that 'bed head John Sheppard' was pretty cute.

Then again, Elizabeth thought 'bed head John' was pretty cute. She just had access to his less charming nature.

Like the scowl he turned on her when she finally reached the gate. "Took you long enough," he grumbled. "I was about to go and look for you."

"Temper, temper," Elizabeth retorted, pausing next to him. "I'm ready to go now."

They started off down the street, John ambling along with his bag hanging off one shoulder while Elizabeth strolled along, wondering why he was so grumpy.

"What's with you?" She asked at last, irked by his sullen behaviour. "Didn't Chaya want to talk to you today?"

His scowl only intensified. "I'd just like to get home sometime before midnight. And you can't say anything about Chaya. I've heard about you and Ronon Dex!"

Mischief pricked her. "He's not bad in bed, actually," she said offhandedly, then smirked to herself as John stopped dead and she kept walking.

"You slept with him?"

She turned, saw his expression and giggled, leaning against the fence of a nearby house.

John made a face at her, unimpressed. "Very funny," he said. "You know, I was all ready to go dig out my dad's Sig."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and pushed off, continuing home. "As if you have the right!"

After a few steps, he caught up with her again as they angled through the nearby park. Kids from the local middle school screamed and squealed on the play equipment, and several girls were holding some kind of 'club meeting' in the shade of a big oak, and she kept off the path, preferring the feel of the grass beneath the soles of her shoes

He scuffed along in the grass, hands in his pockets as he asked, "So what is the deal with you and Dex?"

She shrugged. "He walked me home twice and we're working on a project in English Lit," she said with a sideways glance. Was he jealous?

"So you're not dating?"

Elizabeth felt a warm glow go through her. Yeah, he was jealous. "It's a project," she said, dismissively. "Not rings and vows and happily-ever-after."

He grunted something unintelligible, and while she was a bit disconcerted by this response - she'd thought that maybe he might finally ask her out - she didn't bother asking for clarification. When he wanted to talk, John could be quite erudite. And when he didn't want, he could be downright dour.

This afternoon, he seemed to be leaning towards untalkative, because nothing was said all the way through the park and down the alley. Whether he was thinking about Ronon Dex and Elizabeth's interaction with him, or something else entirely, Elizabeth didn't know.

And then, as they stepped out into the street again, they met Kolya going the other way.

Kolya and two of his thugs.

"Sheppard."

"Kolya."

"And Elizabeth."

Elizabeth met him gaze for gaze and told herself she wasn't going to be intimidated by him. "Kolya."

The older guy eyed them both. "Very cute," he said dryly. "Sheppard and girlfriend, out for a walk on a lovely autumn day. Picturesque."

John had shifted around, subtly putting himself between Elizabeth and Kolya. She appreciated the protectiveness, but after the lesson from Ronan the other afternoon, she didn't figure it was necessary. She might not be able to take Kolya on the way he could, but she could break a hold, or give him something to think about at least until she'd run a long way away.

At the least, she could try.

"What do you want, Kolya?"

Elizabeth took John's arm, urging him to leave. "John." They could walk away if John didn't take offence. And he would. If they stayed around, Kolya would say something to get John angry, and John would retaliate, ignoring the fact that there were three of them against John and her.

He shook her off. "You don't own this town, Kolya."

The older guy smirked. "Neither do you, Sheppard. We're a lot alike, you know," he said. John opened his mouth to protest, "Oh, we are," he said. "We're possessive and dominant and we take care of our own." The dark eyes flickered to Elizabeth. "Some of us better than others."

John's whole body tensed, he took on that edgy look he got when it came to a fight.

"What do you mean?"

"John," she hissed. Of course, he ignored her.

Kolya smirked.

"I heard she had a different guy on Monday," said one of Kolya's sidekicks. Neither were as tall as Kolya, but one watched them with the calculating expression of a politician, and the other's gaze was flat and hostile. The one who spoke was the hostile one, tall and solid, without Kolya's feline grace. "Needed a strong arm to cling to."

She moved out from behind John in spite of it. There was no way she was going to let him fight her battles for her - and no way she was going to let that pass. "I did not need--"

Kolya hadn't taken his eyes from John's face. "Guess she likes things with a bit more...texture than a white prettyboy..."

"Shut up," John snapped, his face flaming. "We're not--"

The politician smirked, but muttered, "You know, Aaron, he mightn't know about the other guy."

"Like hell," Kolya replied. "He knows. Can't keep his girl. It's why he's so edgy."

Screw this. Elizabeth knew a bad situation when she was in the middle of one. And this was bad. She dug her nails into John's arm, hauling him away while Kolya and the others laughed.

Of course, they didn't get any further than a few steps out of the alleyway before John yanked himself from her grasp and glared at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm stopping us from getting further in trouble with them!" Elizabeth retorted. "Keep walking."

"Why should I?"

"Because I said so! They're still watching us."

John glanced back. Elizabeth didn't. She didn't need to. Instead, she grabbed for John's arm and continued to haul him along. She would have grabbed for his hand if Kolya hadn't made the crack about her being 'John's girl'. Elizabeth Weir wasn't any guy's girl - least of all John Sheppard's.

"What? Stop that!"

"Keep walking," she insisted. "They're just trying to provoke you into a fight, John!"

"Well, it's working!"

"I can see that!"

He glared at her. "What was all that about Monday? Another guy?" His eyes widened. "Ronon?"

Elizabeth kept walking. "If you keep walking, I'll tell you," she said. Of course, if he didn't keep walking, then he'd probably work it out for himself - not that there was anything to tell, she added mentally.

They were past the shops and just at the edge of their section of suburbia, cutting through the local development park, when John spoke again, grabbing her bag and pulling her to a stop. "Okay, spill."

Elizabeth turned. "There's nothing to spill," she snapped. "Ronon walked me home the other day."

"And you met Kolya." John's eyes narrowed as he folded his arms across his chest. A second later, he dropped them. "Wait, the other day? I heard he walked you home yesterday!"

"He did both days."

"You asked him to?"

"I didn't ask him the first time," Elizabeth retorted, remembering storming along the line of shops while Ronon followed her like a big puppy. "He just...came along. And I couldn't persuade him otherwise!"

"But you asked him back!"

"He offered!"

"And you accepted," John sneered.

"Of course I accepted! I don't refuse assistance when it's offered!"

"Even from strange guys!"

Great. Of all the times he had to start getting jealous - and of all the people - he'd pick the guy that she'd only really met a couple of days ago. And all Ronon had done was walk her home and taught her some self-defence.

"He's not a strange guy," she said. "He goes to our school!"

"Nobody knows anything about him - he might be a killer or something!"

Elizabeth couldn't believe he'd just said that. "God, you're melodramatic, John!" She pushed past him, irritated with his behaviour.

"I'm just looking out for you!"

"You didn't do such a great job the other day!"

"What?"

Damn. She kept walking, waiting for him to catch up before she explained. But she wasn't going to stop walking. "Kolya caught me just coming out of the alley on Monday. Ronon interrupted him. He walked me home. That's all."

"And yesterday?"

"Yesterday, we had lunch when Rodney cancelled on me because he wanted to flirt with Ms. Carter. And he asked if I wanted to be walked home again."

"And you accepted? He might have been trying to take advantage of you."

Again with the melodramatic. He was usually scathing of the guys who had obvious crushes on her - Radek Zelenka and Ben Maroney were particular favourites - but this was a new angle of attack.

"Oddly enough, he didn't," she said with more than a touch of sarcasm. "And he offered to teach me how to defend myself--"

"Does it occur to you that he's offering a lot of stuff? What's he want in return?"

They'd reached the edge of the development park, before they crossed the road that would lead them into suburbia.

She glared at him. "Maybe he was just being nice!"

"And maybe he's trying to get into your pants!" John snapped. "Did you think about that?"

"Of course I did," she said. "But they're my pants and I get to choose who gets into them!"

Later, she reflected that saying that was probably the last straw for John. He scowled. "So you are dating him?"

"Are you listening to anything I'm saying? I'm not dating him, but if I did it wouldn't be any of your business! You don't run my life, you know, John!"

"I'm the one who Kolya's implying can't look after his people!"

Elizabeth saw red. A bright scarlet haze dropped down over her face and she gritted her teeth. "I am not one of your possessions, John! We're friends! That doesn't mean you get any say in my life - and this is not about your ego! You were at football practise, so I walked home myself the way I usually do, and it just so happened that I ran into Kolya!"

"And Ronon Dex rescued you?"

Heaven save her from touchy boys. "Look, he helped me out of a bad situation! You wouldn't be so stupid about this if it was Rodney!"

"Rodney couldn't save you from getting wet in a thunderstorm if he had an umbrella and a raincoat," John said, scathingly.

Elizabeth slapped him without even thinking. Not hard, and not with any kind of viciousness behind it, but a firm slap nevertheless.

"I can't believe you said that," she said, appalled that he could talk about Rodney so cuttingly.

No, Rodney wasn't sporty or physical the way John was, but he had brains enough to be aceing senior year when he was only junior age. And she'd thought John respected that - even if he was the captain and star quarterback of the football team.

John's hands fisted by his sides. "You slapped me." He sounded both shocked and angry, but if his first instinct was to hit back, at least he wasn't giving in to it.

"For being an idiot!" Elizabeth said. She was furious with him, both for his willful blindness over her friendship with Ronon and his arrogant words about Rodney.

"Look, it's not that I don't like Rodney, but you have to admit, the guy gets self-involved at times--"

"Rodney gets self-involved?" She couldn't help her snort as she glared at him. "And what do you think you're doing now? Get over yourself, John! None of this has to do with you except where Kolya is making it about you! I am not your property, I am not your responsibility, and I'm certainly not going to stand here and listen to you make an even bigger mountain out of a molehill!"

She pushed past him, fuming.

Stupid boys and the stupid egos! First, Kolya and his assumption that he could harass her, just because he thought she was John's girl; then John's possessive behaviour - which she might have enjoyed under other circumstances - but which was completely pissing her off right now.

John trailed behind her, probably still angry that she'd slapped him. Either that or sulking.

Whichever it was, it hadn't abated by the time they reached her house. "Bye," she said, feeling she owed him that much.

He didn't even respond, mooching along like some kid in a comic strip, all despondent.

Fine.

Elizabeth went into her house in an entirely bad mood. She was more than relieved to discover her mom wasn't home yet, and dumped her bag on the table and herself in a chair to stare at the table, tears stinging her eyes.

Why were boys such pricks?

Elizabeth Weir didn't belong to John Sheppard, whatever Kolya - or even John - thought. She wasn't some possession to be protected and fussed over and only thought about when he wanted to think about her. And she wasn't one of his little clique of admirers from the cheerleading squad - or Chaya Sar who was all big eyes and sultry looks when John was around.

If John thought he could snap his fingers and find her waiting there patiently and faithfully, he had another think coming, no matter how cute he might be!

For some reason, as she got herself an afternoon snack, Elizabeth found herself thinking of the last couple of days and the walk back with Ronon. Okay, so he postured a bit, too - the knife in his belt? What was with that, anyway? And the mock-fight out in the backyard where he'd taken her down with barely the blink of an eye.

But there was definitely something to be said for a guy who knew when to speak up and when to shut up.

As she pulled out her English lit. textbook and flipped through to the poem she was supposed to go through tonight, Elizabeth fumed.

Fine. Screw John and his stupid macho image. Screw him and his arrogance. Cute did not entitle a guy to walk all over her and she wasn't going to put up with it.

John Sheppard could go to hell.

--

By Monday it was publically known that John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir weren't on speaking terms with each other. The number of girls taking an overt interest in John skyrocketed, and he could be found basking in the admiration.

Elizabeth kept her head high, ignored the tentative interest of a few guys who'd been too intimidated by John to make any moves while he was looking over her shoulder, and spent time with her other friends. Fortunately, her friends were either oblivious to her fight with John - such as Rodney and Radek - or too considerate to mention it - such Teyla, Kate, and Carson.

Fighting with John was nothing new.

Fighting with John for more than a few days was.

Previously, their fights ended pretty quickly, usually because Elizabeth gave in and made up with him after a couple of days. She hated fighting with her friends.

This time, pure stubbornness held her to her course. She wasn't going to give in. He'd been the idiot, getting all worked up about Ronon and Kolya, and then not even asking her to go to the dance with him, let alone asking her out. If he wanted to get possessive, then he could ask for the privilege!

Besides, Ronon Dex turned out to be good company. Not exactly talkative, but then, neither was Rodney when he was involved in one of his projects. And Ronon actually listened, which was more than could be said of Rodney most days.

"You like him," Teyla observed one lunchtime when Elizabeth turned up to see the fight club meet. It was better than sitting in the cafeteria listening to a handful of 'lipstick and squee' sophomores cooing over John and the other football players he was sitting with.

"What?" Elizabeth's attention was startled away from where Ronon and another guy were circling each other under the watchful eye of the gym teacher. "No!"

Teyla just looked at her, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks going red.

"He is good looking," the other girl said, a smile hovering about her lips.

Nettled, Elizabeth snapped, "Then why don't you date him yourself?"

"Because I am not interested in him," Teyla returned serenely.

"You think he's good looking."

"I think many boys at the school are good looking," replied the other girl. "And yet I am not interested in all of them."

There were moments when Elizabeth experienced the very un-junior-like desire to pull Teyla's hair, if only to see what the other girl would do. How could she be so serene about everything? It wasn't natural, let alone normal!

"So who are you interested in?"

She'd tossed off the question without thinking the other girl would actually answer. But Teyla went a dusky pink colour. Glee filled Elizabeth's heart. She edged over to the other girl, nudging Teyla with avid interest. "So there is someone! Spill."

"No." The other girl's lips pressed together.

"Oh, come on - you know about Ronon." The words left her lips before her brain had a chance to censor them, and it was Teyla's turn to look mischievous.

"So you are interested in Ronon?"

Damn! "No," Elizabeth said. "I'm not! But you're interested in someone. Tell me who!"

Teyla huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "You'll laugh."

"It's not John is it?" Teyla's look disabused her of that idea. "Not John? One of the football team?"

Okay, so she was shooting blind. A lot of guys admired Teyla, but she tended to intimidate them. Then again, Elizabeth reflected, Teyla tended to intimidate most people. But a guy that Teyla was interested in? Pure gold.

"It's my turn on the mat," the other girl said suddenly, getting up.

Elizabeth was put out at having no name to pore over. "I'll get it out of you later," she threatened.

Teyla turned around mid-step, stuck out her tongue, then tripped as she caught her heel on the matting and fell over backwards.

As comebacks went, it wasn't the most successful one ever.

She ran over, hauling the other girl up, but laughing anyway. Teyla looked offended, but after a moment, a slow smile crept across her face. Still, she stuck out her tongue again and flounced off to the mat, to fight against a smirking guy who looked at least half-again her weight.

Elizabeth grinned as she watched Teyla and the boy prepare for the fight, then looked for Ronon.

Ronon was still talking to the guy she'd been fighting against, and Elizabeth watched him.

He moved, showing the other boy how to position himself, how to use the muscles of his body. There was no self-consciousness as he repositioned the other guy's limbs, any more than there'd been when he moved her about, trying to show her how to distract an attacker.

Okay, so she was interested in Ronon Dex, and not just because he'd happened to be there while she was fighting with John. When it came to tall, dark, and handsome, he had it down. He might not be honour roll but he wasn't stupid, he refused to join any of the sports teams in spite of his pretty good physical shape, and the fact that he was a little wild didn't hurt his general reputation among the student body.

Not that Elizabeth was after a guy for his reputation.

She liked spending time with him. Oh, he exasperated her from time to time, but she didn't think it was his personality the way it was with Rodney and John, it was just that she didn't know how to read him, how to react to him.

He was friendly, but not pushy, holding himself apart rather than invading her personal space the way John and Rodney frequently did.

And was she going to spend the rest of her life comparing every guy she knew to those two?

"You do not usually attend this club, Elizabeth Weir."

Elizabeth jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of the gym teacher - the man could move like a cat for all his size. "No, sir."

Upon arrival at the school, students were advised not to laugh at the gym teacher's name. After meeting Mr. T, very few did.

Mr. T was best described as a dormant volcano. He was nice and pleasant and quiet and gave you the feeling that he really was listening to you; but you didn't want to ever get him mad, because when he blew, things would get very bad.

He was also slightly formal in his mannerisms. His nod of the head had all the gravity of a potentate granting an audience. "Then to what do we owe this visit?"

Somehow she doubted the answer, I came to escape listening to John Sheppard's fan club, would be acceptable.

"I just came to watch. Is that okay?"

"There is nothing wrong with that." They watched as Teyla neatly used her lower centre-of-gravity to tip her opponent over. "Have you ever considered learning some moves of self-defence?"

"Oh, I already have," she said, never looking away from the mat. In the periphery of her vision, she could see Ronon making his way over to them.

The attack caught her by surprise, a broad, strong arm around her throat. She leaned back against her attacker, jabbed her elbow into his stomach with as much force as she could muster and slipped out of the grasp, turning with a gasp to face Mr. T.

Although his hand was pressed to his stomach, the smile on the gym teacher's face was satisfied. "So I see." He took a deep breath to steady himself, then straightened from his hunch as Ronon as he came up alongside them. "Well taught, Ronon Dex." With a nod of the head that was something like a bow, Mr. T smiled and made his way along the edge of the mat, calling instruction to Teyla and Teyla's opponent.

The smug look on Ronon's face made Elizabeth want to elbow him in the gut. How did Mr. T know that Ronon had taught her anyway?

Ronon seemed pleased by the praise anyway - although he was behaving like she was a pet that had just done a very cool trick. "You've been practising."

"I didn't want to be caught out again," she said as he flung himself down to the wooden benches and rubbed a towel across his face and shoulders.

"You should have seen his expression."

"I'm pleased to have provided amusement."

He shrugged. "Although Teyla falling on her ass was pretty funny, too."

Elizabeth felt a bit bad about that. Teyla was usually rather graceful, and to fall over while making faces... It was funny, it just probably wasn't all that pleasant. "Well, I hope it didn't embarrass her too much."

"Not as much as the first time she got laid out in a fight." Ronon smirked.

That was new. Last Elizabeth heard, Teyla was more or less undefeated unless she was feeling sick - or her opponent was on steroids. That event had made the city news last year - a student from another school who'd used steroids to beat Teyla in an inter-school competition.

Then again, there was something slightly triumphant about Ronon's expression. She hazarded a guess.

"You?"

"Yeah," he said, still grinning. "She made the mistake of getting distracted. But she's pretty good, all things considered."

From Ronon that was probably the highest of compliments. Still, Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. All things considered? "Such as her being a girl?"

Ronon snorted. "No. That's got nothing to do with it. Teyla's more than capable of defending herself."

"So am I!"

He glanced at her, but he was smiling. "So I saw."

She prodded him in the ribs and watched him squirm away. "Don't be so smug about it!"

"Why not? I taught you."

"I surprised Mr. T," she reminded him.

Ronon's broad shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug, although his lips kept the smile. "Details."

Turning up her nose at him, Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the fight taking place on the mat. Teyla was definitely keeping the guy at bay, her movements fluid and graceful even in the speed and pace of the fight.

There was no question who was going to win.

As Teyla finished off her opponent, Ronon shifted, almost restlessly. She glanced at him, and noted that his expression was pensive. "You okay?"

He glanced at her, then leaned back, elbows on the wood. "Yeah." There was a moment's silence, then a deep breath. "Are you going to the Founder's Dance?"

Elizabeth was surprised. Really surprised. Of all the guys she would have imagined might ask her... Well, Ronon had been way off the list.

"I...hadn't thought about it," she lied.

"Would you think about it?"

"Are you asking me to go with you?" She looked at him, meeting his eyes and noting the way he stubbornly held her gaze.

"Yes." No copouts for Ronon Dex. He might have been uncertain about asking her, but he stuck to his guns. And Elizabeth admired him for it.

"Okay," she said. It didn't take a lot of thought.

"Okay?" He seemed almost surprised by that answer.

"Didn't I just say that?"

There was a moment's hesitation, then he smiled and looked away. "Cool."

Nothing more was said about it. Teyla came up to them, collecting her towel and water bottle, and firing off retorts at Ronon as he teased her. Elizabeth listened a little bit, but she had glow inside her for the rest of the day - and the start of an idea.

She mused over it in History, only half-listening to Dr. Jackson's lesson, and decided that she could. After all, she didn't really want to be seen going all by herself. And while he didn't seem that enthused about the players, he'd never said he didn't like the game.

So it was last period English Lit. when she paused over their books of poems, tilted her head at him and asked, "Ronon, what do you know about football?"

--

She was having second thoughts when she saw the looks she was getting from her classmates as she and Ronon climbed into the bleachers.

Elizabeth ignored them. She also ignored the speculative looks of the sophomores who whispered and giggled behind their hands, Ben Maroney's hurt look, and the guys with him who eyed Ronon with something like amusement. She caught Mark Lorne's quirked eyebrow as she and Ronon took their seats, and quirked one back. He wasn't a big football fan - what was he doing here?

They probably made quite a sight with Elizabeth all rugged up in school colours, and Ronon casually dressed in a long, camel-coloured jacket and leg-hugging black jeans: the fervently supportive and the completely unsupportive.

And then there was the fact that most of the people here knew that she'd been coming to the games to support John and Teyla - as well as the school team generally - and had considered her and John practically an 'item'.

Elizabeth Weir was going to show them.

"You've honestly never been to a football game before?"

"Not at Shermer," he told her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Why not?"

Ronon sat down beside her with a smirk. "Didn't have anyone to go with."

Elizabeth noticed that he sat close enough that their thighs rested side by side, and stifled the urge to lean against him. He was a furnace of body heat in the rapidly-chilling night. And it was nice to be out with a guy who was actually interested in her instead of just going along with her because she happened to be an old friend.

She never realised just how tired she was of being John's default.

Ronon was cool - even if he hadn't quite been her first choice of partner to the Founder's Dance. And in the two days since he'd asked her, he'd been just the same as ever. No possessiveness, no posturing, no fuss, no bother - just a guy friend, like Rodney or Carson. Except cute and attractive and a little bit more forward in teasing her.

Elizabeth was finding it a nice change.

They had a bit of time before the game actually began, and she'd bought a cup of cocoa to sip while Ronon had a coke and a hotdog. Tonight, the concession stand was selling slices of pizza, and enough people had bought them that the smell wafted through the crowd, tantalising Elizabeth's tastebuds.

"God, that smells nice," she said.

Ronon sniffed, shrugged and unwrapped his hotdog with a smile and an arch of his brow. "Want some?"

She was a bit hungry. Dinner had been early because of the game, and she was still feeling a bit peckish.

But when she leaned over to take the bite Ronon offered, he drew the hotdog away, smirking. Mindful of her cocoa, Elizabeth smacked him on the thigh and grabbed his wrist. This time, he held still, although the gleam in his eyes indicated that he wasn't finished yet.

Too much mustard and onions for her taste, but she didn't much care - he wasn't going to be kissing her tonight, so she wasn't going to worry about any bad breath.

"Good?" There was a knowing smirk in his eyes.

The mustard was bringing tears to her eyes. "God, it's a bit spicy!"

"You can cry on my shoulder if you need to."

His smirk was distracting. And very cute.

She slapped his thigh again and took a sip of her cocoa, hoping that the smooth flavours of the milk would soothe the tanginess stinging her tongue. "Not likely!"

"Liz?"

Later, Elizabeth told herself that if it hadn't been for the sheer incredulity of his voice, she might have forgiven him. Her eyes narrowed. "John."

He looked like he'd come straight from the locker rooms, because he had most of the padding on beneath his letterman's jacket, but what Coach Caldwell thought of his star quarterback coming out before the game, she couldn't imagine. Still, she kept her voice calm as she looked out over the field as though she didn't care that he'd come out to see her. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for tonight's game?"

"I'll be doing that in a moment. In the meantime, do you mind if I have a word?" She was familiar with the slightly clipped, forceful tones of his voice - John in a 'mood'.

She glanced at Ronon. He shrugged, looking neutral. "Game's not going to start for a few."

Handing him her cocoa, she gave him a brief smile. "I'll be back in a minute." And just to spite John, she used Ronon's knee as a prop to help her rise, then followed John off to one side of the bleachers where they stood out of the way of the main traffic, gaining more than a few interested looks from passing parties. "What is it?"

"What is it?" John seemed astonished that she had to ask. "You came to a game with Ronon Dex!"

"And?" Elizabeth demanded. "I'm going to the dance with him."

Something tensed in John's face. "You don't know anything about him!"

"Oh, and you know much more about Chaya Sar?" It was a line tossed out in the dark based on rumours she'd heard around the school.

It didn't bring her the catch she'd hoped for. His face darkened like a storm. "I know she doesn't have a rap sheet!"

Elizabeth caught her breath. "And you know that Ronon does?"

It was nothing more than a moment's hesitation, but it was enough. "Come on, Liz," said John in disbelief. "Look at the guy! He's got 'trouble' written all over him!"

Which meant that John was just being a bastard. Fury ignited in the pit of her stomach. Fine. He could be like this. She wasn't going to play. "I haven't seen any writing anywhere that I've looked," she said, choosing to misterpret his words in the most literal sense.

"Well, if you're not careful, you might find it written elsewhere!" John retorted.

In spite of the fact that their conversation had been barely above a hiss in the flow of general chatter in the bleachers, they were getting more than enough looks from the people in the chairs nearby.

Elizabeth was relieved to see that Ronon hadn't turned around - she didn't want him to see this. For one, it wasn't something you particularly wanted aired in public, and for two, whatever people thought of him, Elizabeth found him pleasant company. Maybe she didn't know him that well, but what he'd shown her so far was pretty interesting.

"Look," she told him, out of patience. "Who I go with to the Founder's Dance is none of your business! We're friends. You have no claims on me. None. Not. One."

He opened his mouth to make a retort to which Elizabeth wasn't going to listen. Right now, she was so mad at him - for this scene, for his accusations against Ronon, for his behaviour - she frankly didn't care if he was desperately in love with her and jealous of Ronon.

She was through with this thing between them - whatever it was.

And the football game hadn't even begun.

There was a firm footstep behind him.

"Elizabeth, John."

He glared at Elizabeth and turned around. "Teyla."

Teyla stood there in her gear with her letterman's jacket on her shoulders, a football in her hand, her slim form incongruous against the larger forms of the people moving behind her. Once again, it struck Elizabeth just how difficult Teyla's position on the team must be - up against stronger, heavier, faster kids. Yet her friend held herself with a watchful dignity that warned people not to get in her way. And, right now, her exasperation with John Sheppard was plain enough.

"Coach Caldwell told me to come fetch you," she said with all the precise dignity of which she was capable. "I am not to return without your sorry ass, or else he will have your head and balls on a platter."

John glared. "I'm talking to Liz."

"So I see," Teyla said. "And if you are talking about what I suspect, then I believe that it is none of your business, and you should leave Elizabeth with her company for the evening."

"It's none of your damned business either!"

"No," she agreed with composure. "But it is my damned business to get you back to the locker rooms before the Coach substitutes Bates in as quarterback."

That got him. Steven Bates was a good solid quarterback, but he didn't have John's leadership abilities among the team. Shermer played well when Bates led the offence, but they played brilliantly when John was quarterback - which was why Caldwell had positioned him as quarterback - and captain - for the last two years.

John wasn't about to risk that for anything.

Still, he turned back to Elizabeth. "We haven't finished this conversation," he said.

"I think we have," she said coolly. "Good luck in the game, John, Teyla." And she moved past John without a further word.

There was a moment when she thought he'd try to catch her arm and haul her around. It passed, thankfully. They'd made enough gossip for the night; she didn't really want to get accused of putting an elbow in the belly of the star quarterback twenty minutes before the beginning of a game.

She caught Teyla's eye as she passed and mouthed, 'Thank you.' Teyla nodded briefly before her head tilted demandingly at John.

Elizabeth was two steps down when she heard the smack of something hitting flesh and turned.

Teyla was just catching the ball which she appeared to have bounced off John's shoulder - at any rate, he was rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"For being an idiot," she replied tersely. "Be grateful it wasn't your head." And with that she turned and started down the stairs out of the stadium.

John glared after her. "You should be grateful I'm leaving you on the team after that!"

Teyla gave something like a huff of disdain or amusement. "The only thing bruised is your ego, John. You wear padding."

"I'm surprised you didn't bounce it off my head." They were out of view, and their voices were fading beneath the tread of the people coming up into the stands.

"I considered it," Elizabeth could just hear Teyla's words. "However, I concluded that you are in need of every brain cell you have in that thick skull of yours."

Elizabeth didn't bother to hide a smile as she went back over to Ronon.

"It's all sorted out," she said, omitting to explain exactly what had needed sorting out.

He arched a brow at her. "You okay?"

It was better than an inquisition. Elizabeth nodded. "Sure." And this time, when she sat down, she leaned against him, just a little. It was cold, after all.

He glanced down at her, apparently surprised, but handed over her cocoa. "Yours."

"Thanks," she took a sip and let the sweet, smooth flavour calm her a little. She was still angry at John - as much for making a scene as for his accusations. So Ronon wasn't the usual kind of student at Shermer. He was still a very cool guy.

Ronon offered her the hotdog again. "Want another bite?"

And gentlemanly into the bargain.

Although, maybe not so much. When Elizabeth held out her hand for the hotdog, Ronon promptly retracted it. "No hands."

"You'll just move it away."

The teasing smile he gave her left a tingly feeling in her chest. "Maybe."

In the end, they found a compromise with Elizabeth putting her fingers on his wrist so he didn't move the hotdog away. Her fingers rested for a few seconds on hot flesh beneath which she could feel the steady beat of the pulse in his right arm. And when she leaned back and chewed, she caught his gaze and grinned back at him.

It had been a while since a guy had flirted with her like this. And it was a nice feeling to be flirted with.

Down on the field, the band was all set up with their instruments, and the cacophony of their tuning up was a background hum amidst the noise of the people crowding into the bleachers. It would be a little while longer before the game began, and the crowd was filling up nicely.

"Why didn't you join the football team when you first came here?"

"I've only been here three weeks."

"You still could have joined."

He shrugged and took another bite, then chewed his way through before speaking. "Not much of a team player."

"No kidding," she muttered. "Track?"

"That team player thing again." He stared out over the field, apparently nonchalant. "If you wanted whitebread, Weir, you shouldn't have said yes."

Fine. She leaned towards him, laying a hand halfway up his thigh. Her shoulder pressed against his arm as she tilted her head archly. "Maybe I didn't want whitebread, Dex."

He coughed once, nearly choking on his hotdog and she felt the muscles beneath her hand tense while the muscles in his throat worked. Elizabeth grinned to herself as she drew back, even as her cheeks flushed.

A quick glance at Ronon showed a pinkish cast to his cheeks, but all he said was, "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep." Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort that she did keep her promises, and that what she'd said to him hadn't been a promise by any stretch of the imagination, but he spoke before she could get the words out - almost as if he wanted to change the topic. "Do you sing?"

"Sing?"

"National Anthem."

"Not very well."

There was the smirk again. "So I'll have to block my ears?"

Her elbow landed in his side and he shied away. "What about you? Do you sing?"

He grinned at her. "You'll find out."

Elizabeth whacked him on the knee, and got a shoulder-jostle in return. She nudged him back, and it turned into a poke-and-tickle contest that was only stopped by the emergence of the cheerleaders onto the field.

And it turned out that Ronon had a good singing voice.

But as they sat back and began to watch the game - and the way the star quarterback ignored the slim figure of his most accurate receiver - Elizabeth reminded herself to thank Teyla on Monday.

--

"It was nothing," Teyla whispered during Monday morning Trig, while Mr. Felger scribbled all over the board with great enthusiasm. "Better that John is mad with me than you."

Elizabeth wasn't so sure of that, especially since it seemed that John was presently mad at both her and Teyla and didn't look like he was going to forgive either of them anytime soon. "You did good on Friday night."

John's pique had only lasted to the end of the first quarter. During the break, Elizabeth could see Coach Caldwell giving the team a stern talking-to, and when the game resumed, the passes flowed to Teyla as much as to any other receiver on the team.

The change in tactics had taken their opponents by surprise. Shermer had ended up winning the game by a significant margin, much to the delight of the crowd. At least one touchdown had been scored by Teyla, and she'd passed another to one of her team-mates, resulting in another score.

The other girl flashed her a brief smile. "It was a good game. I enjoyed it."

Mr. Felger still had his back to the class so Elizabeth didn't feel too bad about talking. "So did I."

Of course, when Teyla glanced at her and asked her next question, Elizabeth wished she'd ended the conversation and finished the problem on the board. "How are you?"

That morning, the news had slipped out that John had asked Chaya Sar to the Founder's Dance. There was a lot of speculation as to whether or not this had anything to do with the fight he'd had with Elizabeth on Friday night before the game.

For her part, Elizabeth ignored as much of the gossip as she was able, and kept her mouth shut. She trusted that John was doing the same. As for her other friends, Rodney and Radek probably wouldn't even notice the gossip, and she could count on Teyla, Carson, and Kate to say nothing and turn the conversation to other routes.

It was odd to discover that her supposed 'rejection' by John didn't hurt as much as she'd expected.

Oh, there was a dull ache when she thought about it, but the other thing she felt right now was mostly relief. It was over. She wasn't going to go out with John Sheppard, she wasn't going to eat her heart out, and she wasn't going to cry over him.

It was over.

And she felt good.

"I'm fine," she said, and was pleased to find she meant it.

Teyla studied her a moment, the dark eyes seeing more than Elizabeth was quite comfortable with, but holding her own observations secret. After a moment, the dusky face broke into a genuine smile. "I am glad for your sake."

So was Elizabeth.

"Teyla! Elizabeth!" Mr. Felger was regarding them with undisguised impatience. "Do you have an answer to the problem on the board?"

Teyla sat up, looking abashed. "No."

"Elizabeth?"

"No, sir."

"Then hurry up!"

Since Mr. Felger had a habit of keeping students in for five minutes if they hadn't finished the problem he set on the board at the start of the lesson, they hurried up. So far, Elizabeth had never been stuck inside, but Teyla had. Once was enough.

Later, as they sat out in the autumn morning, Elizabeth noted more than one set of faces turned towards her and Teyla as they set down their bags in their usual spot on the grass. Of course, when she actually looked at any given group, they looked quickly away.

"Is it just me," she asked as she pulled out her morning snack, "or are there people watching us?"

"It is not your imagination," Teyla confirmed.

"I guess I'm quite the item of gossip," she said, trying not to sound bitter.

"Your argument with John was very public," Teyla said lightly. "And you are both well-known in the school." She nibbled at her cookie.

Elizabeth grimaced to herself, then paused as she caught sight of a pretty, auburn-haired girl making her way across the grass to her clique of friends. "Teyla?"

"Yes?"

"When did John ask Chaya to the Founder's Dance?"

It was a second before Teyla answered, and when Elizabeth turned, her friend looked slightly cagey. "Teyla."

"I believe it was Thursday," said Teyla reluctantly, "during lunch."

Even before he confronted me about Ronon, she realised with a touch of anger. Her eyes narrowed and she bit into her apple with a vicious snap. He wasn't mad because he wanted to go to the dance with me, he just didn't want anyone else to have me.

There was a moment of silence before Teyla spoke again. "I believe he cares about you in his own way."

"In his own way," Elizabeth echoed. Some declaration of love that was! "Not much of a way," she said with a touch of cynicism, "as a backup in case his other invites didn't work out."

"That is not so."

The statement, meant to be comforting, only came across as chiding. Elizabeth snorted. "And you know John so well that you're so sure about that?"

Another girl might have backed off, but whatever people thought of Teyla, she didn't lack for courage. "I know him well enough to say that he thinks well of you."

"I don't want to be 'well thought' of!" Elizabeth snapped, sulkily.

Teyla simply regarded her, refusing to give way before her anger. "Then it is too bad for you," she said. "And too bad for Ronon."

"Ronon?"

"He might not have been your first choice, but you were his," said Teyla complacently, stretching out her arms. "For a boy such as Ronon in Shermer High, that is no small thing." She stood, picking up her bag.

"You're going?"

"I have someone to see."

In another girl, it might have been avoidance of Elizabeth's temper. In Teyla, she probably did have someone she wanted to see. Besides, there was something slightly furtive about the way the other girl was avoiding her eyes. Anger turned to curiosity and she arched a brow. "Someone such as...?"

"Someone." The deliberately vague answer only sparked Elizabeth's interest further.

She kept her eyes on Teyla's face. "I've heard a thing or two about Mark Lorne." Her watchfulness was rewarded with a roll of the eyes and a faint blush. "So they were right?"

Teyla glared for a second before she smiled. "Maybe."

Elizabeth laughed. So that was the reason Mark had started attending the football matches after three years of not caring about the sport! "Are you going to be at lunch so I can get all the details out of you then?"

"I will be at lunch," Teyla said as she walked away. "Whether you can get details out of me is not for you to decide!"

Cheered by the prospect of teasing her friend, she was in a good mood for two periods of Ancient History and was still feeling reasonably good when she got lunch and sat down at a table.

Then John slid into the seat opposite her and her good mood fled. "Hi."

"Hi."

"You're mad at me."

"Like that takes a Mensa-level intelligence to work out," she told him. "What do you want?"

"Uh, well, I guess I wanted to say... 'Hi.'"

"You already said that." Elizabeth was aware she wasn't being nice and she didn't care. She didn't need him, she didn't want him, and she was waiting for Teyla to come along so she could get the interesting gossip out of her instead of rehashing the last week of cold shoulders and stubborn silences.

John's eyes narrowed as he leaned forwards. "There's no need to be prickly, you know."

"Oh, no," she said quietly. "No need to be angry at all after you made a scene on Friday night, and were a bastard all last week."

He glared at her. "Look, I was angry. I said some things that were...uncharacteristic of me."

"And you're expecting a free pass home?"

"I'm not expecting anything!"

"Which is why you sit down, just start talking and think everything is going to be fine."

"I'm being friendly," he hissed. "Which I thought was what you wanted!"

Which wasn't the point at all. "You're behaving as though nothing happened." And if he said, 'Nothing did' then she was never going to speak to him again.

"Look, I understand that you're annoyed with me."

"I'm annoyed with you?" The arrogance of the guy! "John, you practically accused Ronon of being a criminal! Without evidence!"

"Well, he could be!"

"That's not an argument designed to convince me otherwise!"

He scowled at her. "So you're in love with him?"

Elizabeth stared at him for a full five seconds, speechless with fury. "Where did that come from?"

"You wouldn't be defending him if you didn't like him!"

"I wouldn't be defending him if you hadn't been an idiot about him on Friday night!" Which brought her to another point. "And don't ever think our friendship gives you the right to tell me who I'm going to date!"

John opened his mouth to make a retort, but was neatly interrupted when a tray was set down on the table. "Anyone sitting here, or is this is a private argument?"

Ronon certainly had an impeccable sense of timing.

"It's a private argument," John said at the same time as Elizabeth said, "No, you can sit here."

They glared at each other. Then John pushed himself up, his chair squealing against the linoleum floor. "Fine. I wish you many fat babies." And with one last, scathing look at her, he stalked away.

Elizabeth pasted a smile on her face, although she really wanted to scream after John. Bastard!

Ronon took the seat, although not without a long, measuring look at the other boy's retreating back. "I don't want to know." It was almost a question, but not quite.

"You don't want to know," she agreed, scraping her fork around her plate. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately..."

His hands paused in the middle of arranging his tray. "You don't?"

When she looked up, the dark eyes were measuring her, and she flushed. "We're just friends."

Ronon shrugged. "If you say so."

"You don't believe me."

He took a few moments to answer, stirring his food for a moment. When he did answer, it was with a quick glance up. "I know you agreed to go with me because Sheppard's taking the Venezuelan girl."

"I didn't!" His expression turned skeptical and she tried to defend her actions. "I fought with John before you asked - not right before - but he was being an idiot anyway--"

"Nothing new there."

"--and I wasn't going to go to with him even if he asked--"

"But you wanted him to ask."

Elizabeth made a face. "Not that he would." She stopped. Ronon didn't look exactly resentful, but she could tell he wasn't very pleased by her words. She sighed and reached one hand out over the table to touch his hand. "Ronon, I--"

He shook off her touch, shrugging. "It's okay," he said. One corner of his mouth tilted in a smile that looked suspiciously self-mocking. "I didn't expect anything."

Great. Now he was mad at her.

Or not.

His silence wasn't the usual stiff silence she'd come to associate with him being angry or annoyed with her. It was just...regular silence.

Around them, the voices of the students ebbed and flowed with the tides of conversation and Elizabeth dared a question. "How was Modern History?"

He shrugged. "Quinn teaches a very...unusual view of World War II."

"Oh?"

Dark eyes glanced up and his mouth tilted slightly. "Apparently, it began before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour."

Elizabeth grinned. "Really?"

"Yep. Apparently Europe fought the war for three years before America got involved." Ronon smirked.

"Who knew?" While the curriculum was state standard, the somewhat eclectic mix of teachers at Shermer High resulted in a broader range of topics and views than Elizabeth understood was usually seen in American high school.

Like Mr. O'Neill's assertion that the United States didn't have a monopoly on anything good - not least of all poetry.

A thought struck her. He'd been born in Hawaii after all. "Was your family in Hawaii at the time?"

He gave her an odd look. "My gramps," he said.

"Any stories?"

Ronon arched a brow at her. "You're not taking Modern."

"Not yet," she said. Elizabeth had only taken Ancient History due to a limit on the number of subjects she could manage at one time, but she planned to take Modern next year if it was available. "But stories are always interesting."

"Depends who's telling them."

"Sometimes the story itself is enough."

"You've never heard my gramps going off," Ronon told her, but there was a slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes that meant he was hiding a laugh.

Elizabeth grinned back. "Then you'll have to introduce me so I can."

He paused, then shrugged, with something like a grin touching his face as he looked back at her. "Maybe I will."

As they ate their way through lunch and argued with each other about their various subjects - including English Lit and the poems they'd found - Elizabeth caught Ronon watching her a number of times. She wasn't sure what to make of it - especially after he'd said he wasn't expecting anything.

Elizabeth had never been on a date with someone who she thought wanted to be with someone else. She couldn't imagine it was all that nice a feeling.

She really wanted to explain to Ronon that she did want to go to the dance with him, and not just to spite John. But how did you explain something like that without making it more than just words?

For the duration of lunchtime, words sufficed; but when the bell rang, Elizabeth still had no answer to the question.

--

Friday night after the school game was a good time to do social stuff, and since most of her friends weren't old enough to drink, they met a local coffee shop after the game and chatted until the owners threw them out or their parents called, wanting to know where they were.

Elizabeth usually sat with Carson, and sometimes Rodney, and waited for John to join them. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't. Tonight, Elizabeth was quietly hoping he wouldn't.

Tonight, not only Carson and Rodney were here, but also Ronon and a new junior student by the name of Laura Cadman who'd taken an active interest in Carson and developed a sideline of bickering with Rodney.

Rodney was waxing forth on one of his projects when Elizabeth excused herself from the table, saying she'd be back in a few minutes. However, rather than heading for the restrooms, she headed out to the street where she'd seen someone that she very much wanted to talk to.

If Mark Lorne was surprised when she confronted him on the pavement outside the coffee shop, he didn't appear it. "Liz."

"Mark." Okay, now where to start? "Waiting for Teyla?"

He regarded her for a moment, slightly amused. "Yeah. What of it?"

"It's about John," she blurted, then winced. "Well, not exactly. It's more about..." She was making a hash of this. "You know Teyla had a crush on John when she first arrived at the school?" She winced again. Not exactly the most graceful way to bring up the topic. She really was making a hash of this.

The large blue eyes narrowed, but he shrugged, apparently nonchalant. "Most girls have a crush on Sheppard at some stage or another. She got over it."

"I know." Elizabeth took a deep breath. Teyla's old crush on John wasn't the issue, here; her old crush on John was. "How do you know she got over it?"

Mark eyed her with a great deal of disbelief. "What?"

"You're going out with Teyla," she said. "How do you know she's over John?"

A couple of cars drove by as Mark stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. He seemed bemused by her question, but at least he wasn't looking at her as though she'd just escaped from an asylum. "I don't know. I...just do."

Singularly unhelpful to Elizabeth. "But how?"

His face was a puzzle. "Why's it so important?"

Automatically, her eyes were drawn to the group sitting inside the coffee shop. Ronon was saying something to Rodney that was making the younger guy splutter, while Laura Cadman looked on with smug amusement and Carson shook his head ruefully. While Carson's lips moved, speaking to Rodney, Ronon glanced up, and his gaze met hers, a good humoured affection in them.

She smiled back, an instinctive response, and saw his mouth quirk before he returned to the conversation.

"Ah." Mark had followed her gaze inside. "Can't help you there, Liz," he said, somewhat apologetically. "Teyla's been over Sheppard for months now, so it's different."

Elizabeth nodded, barely holding back a sigh. It wasn't that Ronon was jealous or anything - in fact, she would have preferred it if he'd shown just a little jealousy about her and John. It was just that she felt like she'd let him down somehow.

I didn't expect anything.

She thought that was wrong. She didn't know why she thought that, it was just wrong.

Worse still, she couldn't seem to do anything about it. It wasn't like she could explain to Ronon that her going to the dance with him didn't have all that much to do with John not wanting to go with her and a lot more to do with Ronon himself. He probably wouldn't believe her anyway - Elizabeth wasn't so sure she believed it herself.

What she was sure of was that she liked Ronon Dex. However their friendship had started off, she was more than glad of it now, and John Sheppard had no more to do with that than he had to do with her friendships with Rodney, Teyla, Carson, or Kate.

"We all have to play second fiddle to Sheppard sooner or later," Mark said. Elizabeth regarded him with surprise at the cynicism that layered his voice. "Look at it this way: at least it came up now rather than later."

That wasn't a comforting thought and Elizabeth opened her mouth to say as much.

"I see you're going through the guys like a hot knife through butter, Elizabeth," Kolya said from behind her. Elizabeth whirled, taking a step back in alarm as the older guy paused a few feet away from her, dark eyes studying her with mocking amusement. Beyond him loomed a half-dozen other figures, tall and menacing at his shoulder. "Got tired of Sheppard's replacement already?"

"He's not a replacement," she snapped, instinctively going to Ronon's defence. Then she cursed herself for even taking that moment to answer Kolya as she saw the shadows shift around her and Mark, encircling them.

"Really?" Kolya smirked. "Does he know that?"

"Hey," Mark said, coming to stand beside Elizabeth and confronting Kolya. "Back off. Leave her alone."

Kolya sneered. "Or you'll do what?"

"Mark--"

"Is there a problem?"

The door of the coffee shop closed behind Ronon with a definite click as he emerged into the street. Elizabeth met his gaze with a surge of something suspiciously like relief. This was way past her ability to deal with - although she was sure as hell going to try - and she didn't like the look in Kolya's eyes.

Beyond him, in the shop, Carson, Rodney and Laura were conferring, their eyes on the people outside. Even as Elizabeth watched, Rodney pulled out his cellphone and began talking.

Her eyes were jerked back as one of the guys off to the side snickered. "And the knight in shining armour appears." He was one of the two who'd been with Kolya days before. "You know, you have to wonder what she does for them that makes them so loyal..."

Outrage had time to blossom before Mark planted a fist in the guy's belly and followed it up with one to the jaw.

"Mark!" She knew why he'd done it, of course. They weren't friends exactly, but they were friendly, and Mark was an old-fashioned kind of guy in a lot of respects.

Elizabeth wondered briefly if old-fashioned also meant 'stupid' - which was what she considered hitting someone who was obviously part of a gang when that gang was present. Then she saw Kolya stepping forward, his face convulsed in anger as he reached out to punch Mark.

She got in the way, lifting one arm to stop the hit. Kolya's fist glanced off her wrist and struck her cheekbone instead and she stumbled back against someone who pinned her arms painfully behind her back. "Got her!"

Like hell. A quick glance told her she couldn't count on being rescued this time: the guys were being attacked by Kolya's goons. Giving a good account of themselves from the look of it, but not able to help her.

Looked like it was up to her to save herself.

She stomped down on his instep, hard as she could in her sandals, then kicked at his shin. The hands holding her arms loosened a touch and she tried to jerk away. No luck. The guy had too strong a grip to be easily broken - and with her attack, his hands on her arms tightened unbearably. Elizabeth cried out, a throaty yelp before she kicked out again, this time aiming for the knee.

Then a body crashed into her and the guy, sending them reeling backwards. He let go of her arms to catch himself as he landed, then she landed on him.

Quickly, Elizabeth slammed an elbow in his belly before she climbed to her feet and was satisfied to see him jacknife up, gurgling in pain.

She saw Kolya coming for her, and started to dodge. Even as she took the first step to turn and run, she knew it was futile. There was no way she was going to be able to evade him entirely. And he caught her around the waist in a grip of iron, hauling her away from the coffee shop and her friends.

"Ronon!"

Elizabeth saw him turn towards her, even as two of Kolya's guys leaped back on him again. Mark was fighting against another couple of guys, and she glimpsed a long blonde ponytail in the fray which suggested that Laura had waded in, too. And if Laura was in the fight, then Carson and Rodney wouldn't be sitting it out.

It was one thing to attack her because of John or Ronon. It was another to drag her friends into this.

And Kolya was pulling her away from the coffee shop while her friends tried to fight his thugs.

"Stop it," she hissed at Kolya, then yelped in pain as his fingers dug into her forearm, inciting nerves to unbearable agony. In the back of her mind, she could hear a car horn honking, but the only thing she could really see was the cold, dark of his eyes watching her struggle against him in futile rebellion. "Kolya--"

She got no further.

Someone barrelled into him, knocking him over. Elizabeth was jerked from his grasp, and half-turned to see Teyla blocking Kolya's return strike, and dodging the kick he swung at her, furious.

She grabbed Elizabeth's arm. "Car," she said briskly, heading for the road where John's Taurus sat idling. Carson, Rodney, and Laura were already on their way towards it, someone else ushering them towards it - was that Aiden Ford?

Elizabeth turned, pulling against Teyla, looking for Ronon. "What about--?"

He stepped into her vision. "I'm here."

She rolled her eyes at the unmitigated satisfaction in his voice. "Come on!"

It was more than a little crammed in the car, but Laura had squirmed onto Carson's lap, and Rodney was squeezed back against them as Aiden Ford scrambled in and perched on the edge. Ronon flung himself in and dragged Elizabeth onto his lap. Teyla neatly slipped into the front passenger seat next to Mark, and slammed the door shut behind her. "Drive!"

"Bossy," said John as he kicked the car into gear.

A glance out the window showed Kolya picking himself slowly up the sidewalk, surrounded by his goons. Elizabeth's gaze locked with his as the car moved off, and an atavistic shiver shimmied down her spine. He wasn't finished with her - not now, not ever. In time, he might move on to easier prey, but he'd never give up the chance to needle her - if only because he considered her one of the ways to get to John.

"You guys sure know how to make enemies," commented John as he turned the corner.

"Says John Sheppard," Rodney sneered. "Who is it that Kolya's got the vendetta against?"

"That would be Liz," John said without so much as a break. "She seems to be the one he's targeting these days."

Elizabeth glared at him in the rearview mirror. "Only because of you!" The car turned a corner, and she slid a little on Ronon's lap. The arm around her waist tightened and she gave him a quick, reassuring smile and received a studying look in return.

"Kolya's probably got a dartboard with your face stuck to it," Rodney was saying to John. They turned another corner, and Elizabeth shuffled a little and slipped an arm around Ronon's shoulders the better to balance herself. She caught Laura's little grin at her across the cabin of the car and flushed, but lifted her chin proudly.

"Hell with a dartboard," Aiden said dryly. "He'd have a shooting bale." He turned to Elizabeth, "How'd it start?"

She grimaced. "I came out of the coffee shop to...to talk with Mark, and the next thing I knew, Kolya and his gang were all over us."

"They were pretty bold," Mark noted from the front. "I doubt that's the last time we'll be seeing them."

"So don't wander around alone," John said, glancing at Mark and Teyla. "Although," he added bitingly, "it doesn't look like that's going to be a problem for you."

There was a pause in the car. Elizabeth caught her breath, and opened her mouth to give him a blistering answer. Then Teyla spoke, her voice clear and low and even. "John, sometimes you are a prick."

"Only sometimes?" Rodney muttered. Carson bit back a smile and Laura let out a shout of laughter.

"Hey!" John snapped. "Remember who's driving the rescue vehicle!"

Teyla let loose a breath that seemed to calm her, then turned so she could see into the back. "Is anyone injured?"

"Not I," Laura sang out.

"I'm fine."

"Me, too."

"Bruises," Ronon said. "Nothing that won't heal." His eyes studied Elizabeth for a moment, his fingers brushing her Elizabeth's cheek. She flinched from the slight pain his touch evoked and he pulled his hand back. "Sorry," he told her, more softly as the others chimed in with their injuries, real and imagined. "Tomorrow, you're going to look like someone punched you in the face."

She lifted one hand to prod the bruised skin, wincing. "Which is what happened."

"You okay?"

"Fine," she replied, almost automatically.

Ronon eyed her a moment longer, then nodded, accepting her word.

"You know, I'm surprised they didn't pull knives," Mark was saying in the front.

"Not the only one," Aiden chimed in.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm grateful they didn't," Carson said, speaking up for the first time, his broadly Scottish accents contrasting with the rest of their voices. Even Rodney's Canadian vowels became nearly indistinguishable by comparison.

In all the conversation, Elizabeth hadn't been keeping track of where John was taking them. Laura, however, glanced out the window on her side and asked, "Uh, Sheppard, where are we going?"

"Elizabeth's house."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "And did it occur to you to ask me first?"

"We need somewhere to regroup," John said.

"You're only a few houses down," Rodney pointed out. "Isn't that a more logical place to go?"

"And you're across the road," said John with a hard edge to his voice. "We could always crash at your place."

Rodney paused, probably thinking of his father's reaction to having his house invaded by a group of his son's friends. "Right. Elizabeth's house it is."

She opened her mouth to object, more out of habit than anything else, then closed it. Rodney was watching her with a slightly pleading expression on his face, and she could see John's wary glances in the rearview mirror. All she had to do was say, 'No,' and one or the other of them would be screwed.

They could be irritating, annoying, immature and arrogant when they weren't thinking about anything but themselves, and she hated it when they assumed she was going to be there for them because 'that's what Elizabeth does' as Rodney had once said when he didn't know she could hear him.

But they were also her friends.

She sighed, more than a little apprehensively. "God, I hope my parents aren't having one of their dinners."

--

Luckily, when they got out of John's car, it seemed that it was just her parents, no clients or guests. That was one less thing to worry about anyway.

"Elizabeth?" Her father stood up as the people began coming in. "I see you've brought a few friends over." There was an implied censure to his voice, and she opened her mouth to explain.

"Hey, Michael," John said, sunnily. "Hi, Megan!"

"John!" Elizabeth's mom called from the kitchen, poking her head out. "How'd your game go?" Then she saw all the people in her living room and paused on all the people. "Rodney, Teyla, Carson, Ronon..." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Ronon before she nodded at Mark, Aiden and Laura and turned back to her daughter.

"Elizabeth? Is there a party on or something?"

"Uh, not quite, mom..."

"What happened to your face?" Her mom came out and set down the glasses of wine she'd been bringing out. Sharp eyes studied Elizabeth's face, particularly the aching cheekbone. "Have you been in a fight?"

"Not exactly," she began.

"Some gang members attacked her outside the coffee shop," John said, interrupting her explanation. She glared at him. Of all the lame explanations, he'd picked the one most likely to get her into big trouble.

Her father turned as he closed the door behind Ronon, alarmed. "Gang members?"

"Nothing so bad as that," Rodney said hastily. "Some former students of a rival school holding a grudge."

"Against Liz?"

Oh God, this was going from bad to worse. "I'll explain later," she said. "We'll be in the upstairs den."

Her father's expression darkened and he opened his mouth to say something to the effect of, 'You're not leaving here without an explanation, young lady!'

Thankfully, her mother interrupted. "Do you want an ice pack for that cheekbone?" She glanced around the group and her gaze lighted on Mark. "And you'll probably want something for that eye."

"Uh..." Mark glanced at Elizabeth, and she saw the slightly swollen flesh beside his eye. She nodded and he turned back to her mom. "Yes, please, Mrs. Weir."

"Elizabeth?"

"Mom?"

"Rodney or John can show them to the upstairs den," her mom said. "I would like you to carry some refreshments up."

Which meant she was going to get a grilling.

Ronon hesitated as the others headed off to the den. "Need help?"

She appreciated the offer. It was thoughtful of him, but his presence was not going to help either her parents' curiosity or her own state of mind. "No. You go up. I'll be up in a minute."

Her father closed the kitchen door behind him as he followed Elizabeth in. "So," he said, his voice casual but his eyes hard. "Gangs?"

"Dad, it's not what it seems," she said, busying herself collecting glasses for drinks so she didn't have to meet his gaze. "They've been making threats at us for a while--"

"Us?"

"John, mostly," she said, shuffling glasses across the tray. A glance at her parents showed them exchanging a look. "Look, Mom, Dad, this guy called Kolya started a vendetta with John. I got caught up in that, and so did Ronon, Rodney and the others. It's just...shit."

"Elizabeth!"

"Well, it is," she insisted, ignoring the reprimand. "Look, it's nothing to worry about."

Her mother put two cold packs down on the tray. "You come home with bruises - and bringing friends with bruises - tell us you've been in a fight, and you expect us not to worry?"

Put that way, it sounded a little far-fetched. Elizabeth sighed as she pulled out the jugs of iced tea and lemonade. "Can you at least not ground me or something? The Founder's Dance is coming up..."

Her parents exchanged a look. "Who are you going with?" Her father asked.

"Ronon."

Another look. "Not John?"

Elizabeth bit back an expletive. She was never going to live this down - not at school, not at home, not among her friends... "John's dating someone else," she said. "I'm going with Ronon."

So maybe she said it a little more fiercely than she needed to, because her parents exchanged another of those looks.

"Okay," her father said, holding up his hands. "But if anything more happens with this gang, then I want you to tell us. If they're roaming around targeting high school students then your principal should at least know what's going on."

She wasn't so sure that there was anything that could be done about Kolya and his gang, but she agreed to it to get them off her back. At least for the moment.

When she got to the upstairs den with the tray, Rodney was speaking.

"...not going to be much help if they start targeting other people who hang around you!"

Elizabeth set down the tray and began pouring drinks as John swivelled in the computer chair and mocked, "Worried about your safety, Rodney?"

Teyla was perched on the desk, between John on the chair and Mark leaning against the desk. She casually reached over and smacked John on the shoulder. Elizabeth hid a grin as John glared at Teyla. But he turned back to Rodney. "Look, you don't have anything to worry about. Kolya's not going to come after you."

"After tonight, I don't know if that can be said," Carson murmured. "I don't know Kolya, but I've heard of him, and the guy doesn't seem like the kind to forgive and forget."

"Ah, see, I told you that getting involved was bad!"

"Yeah, and watching Kolya and his goons beat up Liz and Mark would have been worse," retorted Laura, hopping up from her place next to Carson and helping Elizabeth with the drinks. Elizabeth handed her the ice-pack indicating Mark and his eye. She'd put a pack on her cheek when she'd finished serving everyone.

Rodney scowled at Laura's comment. "I wouldn't have left them to be beaten up!" He accepted the iced tea that Elizabeth gave him. "No lemon, right?" Her exasperated look shut him up and he sipped it cautiously at first, then with a greater thirst.

"Is there anything that can be done about Kolya and his gang?" Ronon interrupted. His faint lean on the verb made it clear that he wasn't willing to just sit and discuss the situation.

"Well, we can't report them," Aiden Ford said bluntly as Laura and Elizabeth handed out the drinks and she placed the cookies on a footstool. "They're not criminals..."

"Yet," John interposed.

"Yet," amended the younger guy. "They're just bullies."

"And they're not subject to a school," Teyla said.

"If the school authority even mattered to them," said Mark dryly, taking the ice pack away from his cheek for a minute so he could sip the iced tea Teyla was holding for him. "Aaron Kolya doesn't strike me as the type of guy who'd let a 'D' on his report card stop him from doing anything he wanted."

"So how do we deal with them?" Elizabeth asked, choosing to perch on the armrest of the chair in which Ronon was sitting. She received various amused and calculating looks from the others, but ignored them. The most important matter right now was the question of what they were going to do about Kolya and his group.

There was a moment of silence.

"We've already established the authorities can't do anything about them," Carson began.

"So we stay in groups," Aiden said after a moment.

"Oh, and that worked so well this evening!"

Aiden scowled at Rodney. "Well, you think of something!"

"They're pretty bold if they're attacking us in public places," Mark murmured. "Is there that much that we can do?"

"Staying in groups is better than wandering alone," John said with a glance at Elizabeth.

"But hardly the perfect solution."

"Rodney, this isn't physics," said John bluntly. "Not everything is going to have a nice, neat answer."

"Well, not everything in physics has a--"

"Rodney," Elizabeth interposed before Rodney could go into one of his diatribes. "Shush."

That stopped him. He stared incredulously at her. "Shush?"

"Rodney," John said pointedly, "Shush!"

"I will not--"

"Rodney." Teyla's voice was quieter, appealing rather than ordering. "Please."

He scowled at her, mumbling something about not being eight, but subsided.

Ronon cleared his throat. "I have an offer if you're interested in hearing it."

That got everyone's attention. Not a 'suggestion', but an 'offer'.

"What kind of an offer?" Elizabeth spoke, both cautious and worried by the way he glanced up at her, then back down at his lemonade.

"Assistance," he said. "Sort of."

"Do you want to be more clear about this 'assistance'?" John demanded.

Ronon lifted his gaze to meet John's suspicious stare. "I know people who know Kolya," he said simply. "They have a vendetta against Kolya - the way Kolya has a vendetta against you." His lips quirked slightly, amused by something that he wasn't going to share with the rest of them. "These people--"

"A gang?"

Ronon paused and looked over at Aiden. "You'd consider them that," was all he said. "These people have even more reason to dislike Kolya as you do. I know they'd be happy to...distract Kolya and his group."

"And you think this would stop Kolya from bothering us?" John was clearly sceptical, while the others were considering.

Ronon's shrug brushed Elizabeth's leg. "It's just a distraction."

"Even a distraction might be useful," Laura said mildly.

"How long?"

"Maybe a week, maybe a month."

Teyla was the one to ask the question preying on Elizabeth's mind. "And when the distraction ends?"

"A lot of things can happen in a week," Ronon said simply.

Elizabeth watched his profile and wondered if he was talking about more than just the distraction for Kolya and his gang. If he was, it wasn't a relevant point to bring up now, although she could ask him about it later. Maybe.

"How exactly would you get these people to turn the heat up on Kolya and his gang?" Mark asked.

Ronon's expression was closed and cautious. "A word here and there."

"A word here and there?"

"Yes." Ronon held John's gaze, meeting the skepticism with his own grim calm. "That's all I can tell you."

"Is this legal?" Aiden asked, half-amused, half-wary.

"I think the necessary question is 'will it work?'" It was, of course, Teyla who posed that question. "Although I also would prefer it if this course of action was legal." Humour lurked in her voice, and both John and Mark gave her wry looks as several people bit back smiles.

Laura shrugged. "We won't know until it's tried. I'm for it." She looked at Ronon with a smile, her head slightly tilted so her reddish-blonde hair swung over her shoulder. "Is it legal?"

He bared his teeth in a brief grin of easy complicity. "Absolutely."

Elizabeth couldn't tell if he was kidding or not. But if something wasn't done about Kolya soon... The look in Kolya's eyes earlier tonight still gave her the chills. Whatever she'd told her parents, she couldn't quite convince herself that it would all be okay; not after tonight.

"Do it," she said.

Ronon met her gaze, once again solemn. Then he nodded. "Okay."

"Excuse me?" John interrupted. "It's me that Kolya has the vendetta against!"

"And it's Elizabeth that's being targeted by Kolya," Ronon said, his voice holding a slight edge. "She should have a say in whatever's done to stop it."

"That makes sense," Carson said.

"Logical," Rodney concurred.

Between the two of them and the varying agreement of the others, there wasn't much John could say to that.

"And until Dex gets all this working?" Mark asked. "After tonight, Kolya will probably have an APB out on all our heads."

Teyla set her glass down on the desktop and rested her hands on the table edge. Elizabeth noted that her friend's arm just brushed Mark's shoulder. "As Aiden says, we can avoid being caught alone."

"It's not going to be enough," John said.

"It is all that we have," she replied coolly, holding his gaze. "Would you have us allow Kolya and his friends to intimidate us?"

"No!" The answer was instant and grim. "But that's not going to stop Kolya from picking on us."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "John, all it needs to do is give them a reason to be wary until Ronon can get this...rival gang onto Kolya."

"Assuming that this rival gang can sufficiently occupy Kolya--"

"They can." Ronon's words were so definite, there was a moment of silence as they all glanced at him, then looked away. He seemed a little tense, and Elizabeth automatically reached out to touch his shoulder. He didn't quite flinch, but she could feel the way his shoulder lowered slightly so their contact was minimised.

Dark eyes met hers for a moment, wary and unreadable, before he turned to where Rodney was talking.

Elizabeth took a moment to remove her hand, but she felt achingly conscious of the rejection as she folded her fingers in her lap and listened to what Rodney was saying.

"...we finished here? Fun as it's been, I was going to head around to Radek's this evening."

"And we'd hate to be disrupting your busy social life," Carson muttered. Rodney glared at him as Laura covered her giggle with her hand.

"I do not believe there is much else to be discussed." Teyla looked to Elizabeth, then to John. "And Mark and I also had plans for the evening." She shared a brief grin with the guy beside her. Beyond them, John rolled his eyes.

"Okay, okay," he grumbled. "Meeting's over. You're not the only ones with social lives, you know."

"Aw, relax, Sheppard," Laura said. "Chaya won't mind if you're late. She's usually running late herself." Blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

Elizabeth caught the slightly concerned look from Carson and shook her head the slightest bit. She wasn't hurt by the mention of John and Chaya anymore; a week of hearing it every time she turned around at school had effectively gotten her over any hurt she might have felt. And John's pissiness had helped.

"Ha-ha," said John, his voice flat. It didn't get much more positive as he turned to Ronon. "You'll have a word with your friends, then?"

"They're not my friends." There was no more tone to Ronon's voice than there had been to John's. "But I'll speak with them."

Elizabeth wanted to ask Ronon why he was so cagey about these people, who they were, what kind of connections he had with them. But now wasn't the time. She wasn't even sure he'd answer them for her - his expression was completely closed right now, and he wasn't looking at her.

She closed up the hurt and started seeing to the people who were leaving.

Rodney, Carson, and Laura were the first to leave. Rodney mumbled something then stumped off across the road, not seeing the faces Carson made behind his back.

"You're sure you'll be okay getting back to the coffee shop?" Elizabeth asked, mindful of the trek through suburbia and the park.

"Kolya and his group have tried once tonight," said Laura, "they won't be game to try again."

Carson didn't seem quite as sure of that as Laura, but he shrugged. "We've got a mobile if we need help."

There was a moment when Elizabeth wasn't sure what he was saying. "Cellphone," Laura supplied, elbowing Carson in the ribs. "It's a cellphone."

He shook his head in exasperation, and the pair of them headed out into the street, arguing over the differences between the two variants of the English language.

Elizabeth turned to go inside and found Ronon standing in the doorway. "Hey."

"I'm leaving."

Nothing more. Just the announcement that he was going. He stepped out of the doorway and began to move past her.

She caught his arm, halting him. "Wait, Ronon." Did her voice sound breathless? She hoped not. "You don't have to go right now. Can't you stay a little longer?"

There was something in his expression, like resentment or bitterness, only harsher - and directed at himself, not at her. "I don't think that's such a good idea right now."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't."

"Is this about the gang you're going to set on Kolya?" He hesitated a moment too long. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth held his gaze, willing him to understand, to share whatever was making him so terse. "You don't have to protect me, you know."

He didn't look entirely convinced, but give her a few minutes and she was pretty sure she could persuade him to talk to her.

"Liz?"

She cursed John's timing. "What?"

"Your mom wants to talk to you inside."

"Can it wait?" If she went inside then Ronon would leave and she wouldn't talk to him until Monday.

John sighed. "You know your mom. Look, I want a word with Ronon anyway. Privately."

When she glanced back at Ronon, he seemed as surprised as she. "Don't you dare leave without saying bye," she warned. "I'll be back out in a minute."

He didn't give a response to that, which she hoped meant assent. She gave John a hard glare to let him know he'd better behave himself, and looked back at Ronon. His brief smile reassured her enough that he wasn't going to just vanish on her. She hoped.

In the kitchen, her mom was looking through the fridge. "This had better be good," she said.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to invite Ronon around for Sunday lunch," her mom said. "Seeing as he's going to the dance with you, it would be nice for your father and I to meet him."

Elizabeth stared at her mom. Then she bit back the urge to ask her mom if she was crazy. Then she bit back the urge to give a flat-out 'no'. The last thing she wanted was for Ronon to end up before the Spanish Inquisition of her mom and dad, especially right now when things seemed kinda rocky.

Finally, she said the only thing she could think to say that didn't involve questioning her parents' sanity. "I'll ask."

At the front door, Elizabeth paused, hearing the guys' voices outside but not the words they were using. From the sound of it, they weren't yelling at each other. John actually sounded reasonable, while Ronon sounded more amused than anything else. Of course, amused seemed to be his default tone of voice, so that could mean anything or nothing.

With a deep breath, she stepped out of the house and watched as they turned towards her. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine," John said. He turned back to Ronon. "Think about it, okay? And if you need backup, then call."

It was quite a turnaround from earlier in the week - or even a week ago. Elizabeth couldn't help staring as Ronon's mouth curved just a little. "Okay."

"Great." John clapped Ronon on the shoulder and headed up the path towards Elizabeth. "I should be getting Aiden home."

She nodded, but waited until the door had shut behind him before she turned to face Ronon. "You're not going to tell me about this gang thing, are you?"

"No."

"But you told John."

"Yes."

Great. Not only was this a guy conspiracy thing, but they'd gone back to monosyllabic answers. Elizabeth didn't know how she was going to deal with this, but there was no way she was letting him retreat. "Mom asked if you want to come for lunch on Sunday."

He stared. "Your mom asked me to lunch on Sunday?"

"Yeah." She watched him. "So...will you?"

Ronon hesitated and looked away. "Not this weekend."

On one hand, she was relieved. Her parents wouldn't have the chance to pester him - and her - with questions. On the other, she was getting the feeling he was pulling away from her - and she didn't like that at all. "Are you busy or don't you want to?"

He hesitated again. "Busy."

The worst thing was that even with the hesitation, she didn't know if he was lying or not.

"Fine," she said, shortly, feeling more than a little hurt as she turned away to go inside. "I'll see you on Monday, then."

It would figure, she supposed as she opened the door. No sooner did she discover she liked a guy then everything would go bad.

Ronon's hand caught her arm. "Elizabeth."

She turned, still angry with him. "What?"

His face was surprisingly close, and she only realised what he was about to do when she felt the touch of his lips against her cheek in a warm caress, soft and sensual.

"Be careful this weekend." The words were low and gentle, and he drew back enough to see her eyes, then bent to kiss her lightly on the cheek again, before he turned away and walked to the letterbox.

Elizabeth's brain scrambled for words but couldn't come up with any. Her mind wasn't working, and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, incapable of forming any words at all. She watched him as he paused at the letterbox, looking back towards her as though expecting a reaction from her. Then he shook his head and jogged off into the night.

--

She didn't hear from Ronon all weekend.

It bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

Most of all, she worried over his desire for secrecy about whatever he was doing, as well as his admission of being involved with gangs. Elizabeth's imagination could paint all kinds of situations, few of them good. And the rumours she'd heard about Ronon, combined with what he'd said on Friday night, only made things worse.

By Monday morning, she was looking anxiously for him among the sea of her fellow students.

"Liz?" Kate Heightmeyer paused by her as she was trying to see down the senior locker corridor. "What happened to your cheek?"

The bruise had gone a lovely purplish-green colour, and no amount of make-up was going to hide it. "I got caught in a fight on Friday night," she said. "Have you seen Ronon today?"

Kate seemed surprised. "We haven't even had homeroom, yet."

Elizabeth turned away from the corridor as the bell rung. She'd hunt Ronon down later. Maybe during morning break?

At morning break, however, she was cornered by not one, but four of her classmates who wanted to know the story about her cheek. In reality, they wanted an excuse to air their theories about how she'd gotten the bruise.

"I heard that you got it in a fight!"

"Was it true that Mark Lorne and Ronon Dex were fighting over you?"

"Was it Teyla? I've heard she knows how to kill someone in less than a minute!"

"Didn't you have any make-up to cover it? It looks really awful, you know."

Elizabeth managed to get away from them through a combination of put-offs and promises that she hardly heard, citing that she had to speak with Teyla and, no, her cheek had nothing to do with Mark Lorne, and she did have makeup, she just didn't want to wear it...

"God," she exclaimed when she finally dumped her bag next to Teyla. "I should have stayed home sick!"

"It is noticeable," the other girl observed as she peeled her orange. "Perhaps I should not have hit you so hard." An impish smile flashed briefly on the tanned features, and Elizabeth groaned.

"The grapevine around here is horrible," she said. "This is worse than when John and I were fighting!" Pulling out her snack, she glanced around the lawn. "Have you seen Ronon today?"

Teyla shook her head. "Not yet," she admitted. "Although I have not been looking for him as you have." She regarded Elizabeth solemnly. "You have not spoken to him this weekend?"

"No. I left a message on his cellphone on Sunday, but I haven't heard back."

"Perhaps you should ask Mark or John if he was at homeroom today?"

"If I can find them," Elizabeth murmured. "Teyla, do you have any idea what Ronon was going to do?"

"No," said Teyla as she stripped the fruit of the white pith with neat, economical movements. "But he considered it dangerous enough to wish us well away from it."

Elizabeth shot her a flat look. "That's not encouraging."

Her friend's answer was even less salutory as she tried to shake a strand of pith from her finger. "I did not mean it to be." Teyla broke the orange into segments over the grass, letting the juices drip away, then offered a wedge to Elizabeth.

She declined, focused on other things. "Do you know where I could find Mark?"

"Somewhere in the school grounds?" Elizabeth mock-scowled at Teyla, who just laughed. "I would suggest that you try the seniors' lawn."

"Fine. I will!"

Mark wasn't on the seniors lawn, although John was in the middle of an argument with someone over a ruling in a football game.

"...no way that should have been a forward pass. Did you see the angle of it?" He glanced up. "Hey, Liz, what's up?"

She ignored the nudges and smirks of John's crowd and the long, hard look Chaya Sar gave her from where the exchange student sat with her cheek next to John's shoulder. Instead, she went straight to the point. "John, have you seen Ronon?"

Someone choked. John just gave them a long stare, then turned back to her. "Not since Friday."

Damn. "Do you know if he was in homeroom?"

John shrugged, apparently unconcerned. He could have shown a little worry! "We don't share homeroom."

"He wasn't in Shop class," Chad Rollins offered. "Probably off sick today."

The news didn't seem to bother John, and she met his eyes for a few seconds, then nodded. Her smile was brief and felt more than a little fake. "Thanks." Elizabeth turned and began to walk away.

She didn't get much further than the edge of the lawn before she heard someone calling after her. "Hey, Liz, wait!"

John jogged up to her. "I said wait!"

"I'm waiting," she said. "What is it?"

If he'd been insouciant before with all his hangers-on around him, he was serious now. "Look, on Friday, Ronon said he might be away for a day or two this week to get things sorted out."

"He didn't tell me." That hurt.

"Well, maybe he thought you were better off out of it."

Elizabeth wondered whether Ronon had thought she'd be better out of it, or whether John had thought she'd be better out of it.

"John, whatever he's doing involves gangs that are tough enough to take on Kolya and his friends," she said. "It's dangerous."

"Yeah," John said. "But he can handle himself."

Elizabeth couldn't help a cynical snort. "A week ago, you were sure he had a criminal record."

"A week ago, I was angry," John retorted. A slight flush tinged his cheeks - it seemed he was at least a little embarrassed by his stupidity of last week, which was something. "Look, he doesn't want you involved in what he's doing."

"And that's why he told you?"

"Well, I actually demanded he tell me."

'Demanded' implied that he'd used some kind of force or leverage to get Ronon to comply. "Or what?"

John looked sheepish. "Or I said I'd set your parents against him."

"You what?" Her exclamation drew the attention of most of the seniors on the lawn, but Elizabeth was beyond caring. Even after she told him that he had no say in her personal life, he continued to interfere. "John Sheppard, you are the most arrogant, egotistical, self-centred idiot I have ever had the misfortune to know!"

His eyes narrowed, although he almost looked amused. "Is that including Rodney or not?"

Exasperation lifted her hand to slap him, but John held up his hand ready to catch her if she tried. "Okay, okay - look, I needed to know and he didn't need much persuasion--"

"You mean blackmail!"

"--persuasion to tell me."

Right now, her palm was persuasively itching to slap him. "God, you're a bastard sometimes, John."

He took the insult with more calm than she'd expected. "It takes more effort than most people think," he told her. "Look, Ronon's probably just away sick today. You can message him or something if you want to check up on him."

"I already have."

"And?"

"Nothing."

John didn't seem to have any issues with the silence on that front. "So he's probably fine."

"Fine?"

"Yep."

Elizabeth gave him a scathing look and stalked away, privately wishing she could be half so positive about it.

--

She sent Ronon an SMS at lunch and waited for an answer. By dinner, she still didn't have a response.

Elizabeth sat in her room that night and fretted as she did her homework.

It was more than not being told what he was doing. It was the lack of contact - she'd heard nothing from him in four days. That was unprecedented.

And you have so much precedent when it comes to Ronon Dex!

Elizabeth squashed her misgivings, forcing herself to work through her Ancient History notes as the evening passed, but when it came to English Lit, she stared, unseeing, at the pages of the book for nearly half an hour.

Tuesday began as a repeat of Monday, except that Elizabeth trudged through her morning classes, the world of academia a chore instead of the joy it usually was.

Then she got to English Lit.

She sat down at her desk and turned to him. "Where've you been all weekend?"

Ronon glanced up from the drawing on his notepaper, met her gaze for a second, hovered on the multicoloured bruise on her cheek, then looked back down again. "Busy. Like I said." And he went back to drawing.

Irked by the terse answer, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "You didn't answer any of my messages."

Dark eyes flickered up to her again. "I know. I said I was busy."

"Yesterday, too?"

There was the slightest of hesitations. "Yesterday, too."

Something was wrong. He was reticent, withdrawn as he hadn't been since the second day he walked her home. Then, it had been something she'd said. Now... Now, she had no idea what was wrong.

"Are you okay?"

Another glance. "Fine."

And that was all.

Confused, Elizabeth turned back to her desk as Mr. O'Neill sauntered in for the class. She'd just opened up her folder when Ronon asked, "Are you okay? After Friday?"

Since Mr. O'Neill had halted at the door and was talking with Ms. Carter, Elizabeth turned around to answer the question, pleased that he was inquiring. But she found Ronon watching her, his gaze lingering on her cheekbone before moving back up to her eyes. There was no smile, no warmth from him at all - none of the teasing of the last month's friendship. It was as though she was talking to a stranger.

Her answer was short and piqued, and came with a shrug. "I'm fine." He wasn't the only one who could play nonchalant. "Thanks for asking." It sounded light and careless to her ears - exactly the kind of response she wanted to give.

Ronon nodded once, and Elizabeth turned back to the front as Mr. O'Neill came in and laid his notes down on the desk. "Right," he said, with a cheerfulness that was almost malicious. "Who read the homework?"

Hands went up, Elizabeth's among them.

"Who made notes?"

Elizabeth doubted that Mr. O'Neill would consider, 'This poem is about a highwayman,' as notes per se. But she kept her hand up anyway. It was practically expected of her.

"Wonderful," said the teacher. "So, is anyone going to offer up the themes of the poem, or am I going to have to pick on someone?" He rolled his eyes when the room fell silent, nobody willing to volunteer to suggest anything. The teacher shook his head. "Just you wait until we get to Charge of the Light Brigade and I get you all up out of your chairs to act the poem out."

Elizabeth decided that Mr. O'Neill definitely had a malicious side to him.

But nobody was willing to go first.

O'Neill got up from his perch on the desk and looked around the classroom. "Okay. Everyone stick their tongue out."

They tittered and stared at him, astonished by the request - but not half as astonished as they were when he poked his tongue out at them. "Come on! Tongues out! Everyone. Yes, Kyle, everyone. Tongues out!" He pointed a finger at one boy whose tongue was bright red. "Michael, has anyone ever told you that red Kool-Aid rots your teeth?"

Michael grinned. "Everything does."

"True, but Kool-Aid does it faster than most. Does everyone have their tongues out?" O'Neill looked around the room. "Good. Now that we've proven that you should all have the basic equipment for speech--" There were assorted fragments of laughter through the classroom as they realised what he'd been doing, "--and given how much noise you were making out in the courtyard this morning - Chad, I could hear you bellowing from the teachers' lounge - I know you're capable of speaking, how about someone pick a theme and we'll talk about it?"

One of the girls across the room shifted in her chair and suggested, "Jellybeans?"

Mr. O'Neill gave her a sour look. "Erica, have I ever mentioned that you have a smart mouth on you?"

Erica grinned, unabashed. "Yes, sir."

He muttered something about his sins, then continued louder. "How about you suggest a theme relating to the poem?"

"Loyalty."

O'Neill pointed a finger at her. "Good. I forgive you for being a smartass. At least this time around. Loyalty." Silence. He rolled his eyes at them. "Speak up, kids, I can't hear that discussion happening yet!"

Elizabeth pressed the book open, skimming the lines of the poem again. She hadn't read it properly last night, her eyes and mind refusing to focus. She took a few moments to familiarise herself with the style and subject of the poem.

"Okay, fine," said Tammy Gilmore huffily, as though O'Neill had specifically required her to answer. "Am I the only one who thinks it was, like, dumb of her to shoot herself? I mean, he died anyway, so it was totally useless in the end anyway!"

"But we're not talking about whether or not it was useful," said Chad Rollins, frowning. "She was showing loyalty to her man." There were assorted snorts and sour expressions from some of the students.

"She was showing stupidity," Tammy retorted. "Like, who lets themselves be killed for a guy these days? What a doormat!"

Some of the girls were nodding in agreement.

"I don't know," said Erica from across the room. "I thought it was pretty brave of her to do what she did."

"It was romantic," John Charlwood mocked.

Erica turned on him. "Well, I don't know," she said. "Would you be making fun of it if it had been one guy standing up for another?"

"It would still be romantic - just gay," muttered someone from the back of the class to a few giggles.

"What about the highwayman?"

Elizabeth turned in her seat so she only had to turn her head a little way to see Ronon. "What about him?"

Ronon addressed the answer to her rather than the rest of the class, although he still wouldn't meet her gaze for more than a couple of seconds. "He came back for her, too. That's loyalty."

"Not that it did either of them much good," someone else commented, while Elizabeth tried to remember how to breathe. The look in his eyes burned.

"No," Chad was saying, triumphantly. "But it's not just the girl who let herself be killed for the guy." He glared at Tammy who glared back.

"Well, that was stupid, too," she declared.

Irritated by the other girl's attitude and still unsettled by Ronon's reticence, Elizabeth kept her voice bright and vacuous as she replied, "Well, at least we'll know not to trust your loyalty when it comes down to the line, Tammy."

The look the girl shot her was venomous, but a few of the other girls were amused. If there was a Queen Bee at Shermer, Tammy was it - and almost all the girls had been stung by her at some time or another.

"Ladies," Mr. O'Neill said. There was a quiet warning in his voice and in the hard look he gave Elizabeth. If she took it any further, then she'd be in big trouble.

Elizabeth was tempted to take it further. She didn't.

"Ignoring the question of who sacrificed for who, isn't it as much about love as loyalty?" Kate Heightmeyer asked.

"What?" John Charlwood turned in his chair. "Love is all about letting yourself be killed?"

"Maybe when no other option presents itself," Kate argued.

John snorted. "He had options when he heard about her death and went back."

"Yeah, but she didn't when the soldiers came."

"So you're saying that her death was useful while his was pointless?"

"He went back for her, knowing she was probably dead," Brianne replied. "And he probably knew he was going to die, too."

"So why'd he go back?"

"I don't know, maybe he cared about her!"

Ronon put his pen down and sat back. "It cost him his life."

"That doesn't change that he cared about her," Katerina Bishop said, frowning. "And weren't you the one who said that he was loyal to her, too?"

Elizabeth saw the shrug as Ronon sat forward and picked up his pen again. "Yeah. And the guy was loyal to her. It still cost him his life. And her."

Tammy snorted. "It was still stupid of him to go back for her."

Erica levelled a sour look at Tammy. "So loyalty equals stupidity now?"

"Loyalty costs," Elizabeth said, loud enough for most of the class to hear.

"So is love worth that loyalty?" Ronon murmured as he began sketching away again. Elizabeth watched him for a moment, but he didn't look away from his drawing.

She turned back to the class when Brianne spoke. "The highwayman must have thought so."

"As did Bess."

"Yes," Mr. O'Neill said. "As did Bess." Something about his voice - or maybe the way he spoke - stopped the discussion. "While you've brought up some very interesting points, I'd like you to focus on Bess for a while, class. Although the poem is about the highwayman, it's Bess who initiates most of the action in the poem, one way or the other. Take out your books and read through the poem again and make notes on the descriptions used for her. How does the poet speak about her and what kinds of words does he use?"

The rest of the lesson was spent taking notes and arguing over the phrasings of the poem.

Elizabeth didn't offer much for this section of the class.

Ronon didn't offer anything at all.

--

That night, Elizabeth fretted over what he'd said in class.

That doesn't mean that he wasn't stupid to go back for her, too.

After English Lit., she'd tried to get Ronon aside for a few minutes before the next class, but he'd made some excuse about needing to get there on time and practically run away from her. Tammy Gilmore had pushed past her standing in the hallway, smirking as she walked off, and Elizabeth gritted her teeth and went to Civics feeling very uncivil.

Lying in bed, she wondered if Ronon resented her.

I have an offer if you're interested...

Elizabeth wondered if Ronon regretted making the offer after all. He'd been cagey and distant since Friday night. Desperate times called for desperate measures - wasn't that the saying? But what about when the desperate times were over and the desperate measures done? Then you had to live with the choice.

Making the choice was easy; it was harder to live with the choice once it was made.

In the end, Ronon hadn't even been the one to make the choice.

Do it.

Elizabeth had made the decision, but she wasn't the one taking the risk.

And maybe that was why he'd kept his distance the last few days.

Tears stung her eyes and she brushed them away. The bruise on her cheek barely hurt anymore, although it was still looking colourful.

Elizabeth paused, remembering how Ronon had bent down to kiss her cheek on Friday night before he walked away. She could almost feel the gentle brush of his lips on her skin again.

Is love worth that loyalty?

She wondered until she fell asleep without answers.

The morning brought no more answers. Elizabeth woke up early, grimacing as she sat on the edge of her bed and contemplated the day. She skipped breakfast and went in to school early.

The walk to school was cold and brisk, and the tread of her sneakers echoed down the alleyway where she'd first encountered Ronon. The swings and playset of the big park sat empty, and the school was similarly deserted when she arrived.

In the senior locker corridor, Elizabeth paused and glanced both ways. She doubted there'd be anyone about at this hour, most students didn't turn up until five minutes before the homeroom bell rang, but there was no point in making gossip - especially after the gossip of the weekend and the scene she'd made on the senior lawn, yelling at John.

Not that he hadn't deserved it. Chaya Sar was welcome to him!

The note, folded into half, was shoved into the airvent slots of Ronon's locker and left for him to find when he turned up at school.

Elizabeth spent her early morning in the library, resisting the urge to go and check if he was anywhere about. The ball was in his court whenever he cared to pick it up - if he cared to pick it up at all.

She didn't have English Lit. on Wednesdays, so she didn't see him until lunchtime.

Unfortunately, she'd no sooner caught his eye when Ben Maroney sat down and started talking to her about a Civics project. Since it was due on Friday, she was torn between wanting to talk about the project, and wanting to ask him if this could wait. Intending to ask him to hold a few seconds she touched him on the hand.

"Ben, can you wait a moment? I have to have a word with someone..."

She looked for Ronon. If nothing else, she could arrange to meet him after school.

But Ronon was already gone.

Elizabeth spent the rest of lunch keeping half an eye on the door, almost expecting him to turn up out of nowhere and sit down next to Ben with a, "Hey."

Needless to say, he didn't.

She went to afternoon classes with a sense of disappointment, a strong desire to cry, and no desire to be seen as anything other than her normal self. So she went to classes and did her work, and smiled when her classmates made jokes. And if her smile was a little bit fixed, they didn't notice.

It was the start of the last class for the day when Mr. Felger announced that Mr. Hammond would be making an announcement at the end of class, and all students were to remain in their classes until it was done.

Elizabeth glanced at Teyla.

"Do you know anything about this?"

"Nothing." Teyla shrugged. "But I do not pay attention to these things."

"Sounds important."

Another shrug. "Perhaps it is." Teyla opened her pencilcase and selected a pen, then twirled it over her fingers as she regarded Elizabeth. "You look tired."

Trust Teyla to notice such a thing.

"It's been a long day," was all she said. Of course, her friend wouldn't be fooled by such an answer, and Elizabeth knew it.

Still, Teyla was willing not to pursue the matter now, although Elizabeth guessed that if she continued to look tired, then Teyla might push the matter further.

In the meantime, there was Trig.

This afternoon's class was long and difficult, and not just because Elizabeth felt wrung out by the week. Mr. Felger drew his diagrams wildly across the board, and although Elizabeth consulted her textbook, trying to reconcile his lesson with the textbook explanations, she wasn't entirely sure she succeeded, even when she managed to get the correct answer to the problem on the board.

They were two minutes shy of the bell when the speaker over the board beeped as the prelude to an announcement over the PA.

"Excuse the interruption, Shermer High, this is Principal Hammond with a general notice." Mr. Felger paused in scribing down his final notes on the blackboard, and the class rustled a bit as Principal Hammond continued. "This morning, the local police department informed me of a situation that I feel warrants your attention at this time. It seems there's been an increase of gang activity in our local area, and the officer I spoke to is concerned about the possible inclusion of our students in the violence."

Elizabeth looked to Teyla, found the other girl staring back. She didn't need telepathy to know what was going through her friend's mind - or the minds of the other students who'd been there on Friday night.

God, Ronon, what did you do?

"While it appears that these gangs are specifically going after the members of rival gangs, I would like all students to be watchful and alert when travelling to and from the school and to keep in mind your safety and the safety of others at all times. If you encounter any situations which you think might be related to gang activity, please inform your year advisor, Vice-Principal O'Neill, or myself as soon as possible."

There was a rustle through the stunned classroom as people began leaning over to whisper to their friends, and Elizabeth saw the surreptitious below-the-desk movement that indicated cellphone messages were being sent, but she just sat there exchanging looks with Teyla, her pen limp between lax fingers.

"Our intention in broadcasting this news is not to scare you, but to keep you informed of potentially dangerous situations. Notes have been arranged for you to take home to your parents and your teachers should be handing them out now. On behalf of the staff of Shermer High, we hope you'll stay calm and remain safe. Thank you for your time and patience in this matter."

And, right on cue, the end bell rang through the silent halls of the school.

--

"I still don't know what he did!" Elizabeth hardly saw the books she was yanking out of her locker, her thoughts chasing after each other like so many mice in a maze.

At the locker beside her, Teyla was more sedately switching books. She paused with her hand on the edge of the locker. "Have you considered that it does not matter if you know what Ronon did, only that he did it?"

Elizabeth glared at the other girl. "You sound like John," she accused.

Teyla shrugged, unbothered. "Ronon did not wish you to know what he had to do to stop Kolya from coming after you. However, he made the offer himself."

"That doesn't mean he couldn't have rethought it."

Dark eyes glanced sideways at her. "I do not believe Ronon Dex would ever second-guess his choices."

"Lucky you," Elizabeth snapped without thinking. As abruptly as it had come, the anger left her, and she reached out to touch Teyla's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Teyla. I didn't mean--"

"Yes, you did," Teyla said.

Taken aback by Teyla's words, Elizabeth stared. The other girl seemed a little resigned and a little tense herself. "Elizabeth, I do not pretend to know what Ronon has done to gain this respite. But I know that whatever he did, he considered it worth your safety."

Teyla was trying to be reassuring. Elizabeth recognised that. But other fears lay beneath the surface of her concern. "He might have considered it worth it then," she muttered, looking back at her locker. "That doesn't mean--" Her voice caught and her throat closed. "He doesn't even want to speak to me," she managed.

It was the other girl's turn to reach out to her, this time a hug that surprised Elizabeth - Teyla didn't do casual hugs like other girls. "You do not know that," her friend said firmly. "There are other explanations for his reluctance to see you."

Elizabeth pulled back so she could see the other girl's face. "Such as?"

Teyla's expression turned rueful. "I do not know."

She stared. "You don't know?"

"No," Teyla said calmly. "But Ronon does. And I am sure he will give you his answer when he can." She opened her locker, giving it a cursory inspection to see if she'd missed anything, then closed it again.

This was going around in circles. "Sure. If he ever talks to me again!"

"He will." If it was meant as reassurance, it didn't reassure Elizabeth.

What was it with the people around her being so damned sure of themselves, anyway? First John, now Teyla. Next thing, she'd have Rodney assuring her that Ronon was perfectly safe and there was nothing for her to worry about. Of course, if that happened, then she'd have to call SETI and announce that there were pod people on Earth, because Rodney was definitely no 'Mr. Positive.'

"Teyla!" The yell came from down the corridor. "Hurry up!"

Teyla turned to Elizabeth and rolled her eyes as John jogged up. "Am I not permitted to get my books from my locker?"

"Not if it means you're late to practice," John retorted as Teyla swung her bag onto her shoulder. "Liz, Rodney's going to be another half-hour, then he's catching a lift home with Zelenka. Go with them if you're not going to wait for practice to finish, okay?"

"Okay." Elizabeth looked at Teyla. "I'll call you later."

"After nine."

"God save me from girl talk," John grumbled as he grabbed Teyla's wrist and began dragging her away.

"John! I am not a child to be led by the hand!"

He didn't let go of her wrist, continuing to tow her away. "Yeah, whatever. Hurry up!"

Their bickering faded off into the corridors, and Elizabeth grinned to herself, then sighed as she closed her locker and picked up her bag.

She'd been hoping that Rodney would go home on time for once. Waiting around for another half-hour, then listening to Rodney and Radek exchange everything from ideas to insults on the drive home had not been in her plans for the day. While their banter could be entertaining at times, most of the time it grated on her nerves.

Maybe she could just walk home? Even with the clashes between Kolya and whoever Ronon had set on him, maybe she could risk it? It wasn't as though she could bump into Kolya and his goons every time she walked down that lane.

Elizabeth was nearly at the school gate before she realised Ronon was leaning against the fence waiting for her, legs crossed at the ankle, arms folded across his chest. Beneath one of his elbows peeked a slip of paper - her note from the morning.

He held it out to her as she stopped in front of him. Four words and her signature. We need to talk. Elizabeth.

"So talk," he said, and his expression seemed carefully neutral as she studied him.

"What did you do?" The words burst from her, a tide undammed.

His face closed up and he looked away. "What I had to."

"Which is what exactly?"

Broad shoulders lifted and fell. "Stuff you don't need to know about."

"And we're back to square one," she muttered. Shouldering her pack she started off down the street, then realised he wasn't following her. "Are you coming or not?"

Ronon fell into step beside her without a word, fixing his eyes on the ground and barely looking where they were going. Elizabeth found his docility almost more frightening than Kolya's attacks. "Ronon?"

"Elizabeth." So calm and courteous, but without any affection or friendliness at all. Even his teasing that first afternoon had been playful in a wry kind of way.

"What's wrong?"

His mouth twisted a little. "Nothing."

Like hell. Elizabeth let the silence sit until they got to the park. She had to talk about something, walking the whole way home in silence would kill her. "Ronon, about Friday night--"

He interrupted her. "If you want to go with someone else to the Founder's Dance, it's okay. I understand." Something like a smile flickered across his face, but there was a bitter twist to it that he couldn't quite hide.

Elizabeth stopped and stared. "I don't want-- What are you talking about?"

Ronon stared at her for a long moment, then reached out to brush at her bruised cheek. "That. And the distraction for Kolya."

"What?" She was completely confused. "Why would I want to go with someone else because I got a bruise? And you did...whatever you did to stop Kolya from bothering me. What's that got to do with anything?"

He frowned, a hint of colour infusing the tan of his cheeks. "So what were you going to say?"

Some kids skipped towards them on their way to the play equipment. Elizabeth stepped off the path into the grass so they could bound past with all the energy of the very young. "I was going to ask why you've been shutting me out."

Ronon followed her off into the grass, scuffing at the dying remains of a dandelion by his right trainer. "Did you know that 'Bess' is a short form of 'Elizabeth'?"

Her eyes narrowed. That damned poem. Now, at least, she had an inkling of where his thoughts were tending - even if they were completely wrong. "Yes. But I'm not a landlord's daughter and you're not a highwayman."

He glanced up, held her gaze, dark eyes opaque and reserved. "Kolya targeted you because of Sheppard." The words were quiet and Elizabeth had no trouble making the connection.

"You think these others - the ones you contacted who hate Kolya - you think they'd harass me as well?"

Ronon shrugged. "I couldn't be sure."

"And that's why you've been ignoring me?" Anger flamed in her, a brief spark of frustration that tightened her hands into fists. "I don't care about that!"

"You didn't like being Kolya's bait for Sheppard," he said, a grim note to his voice.

"Because he got it all wrong about me and John!" The words were out of her mouth before she realised what she was implying. If she minded being Kolya's bait for John, but didn't mind being someone else's bait for Ronon, didn't that signify a big difference in her relationships with them?

Elizabeth put the thought aside for the moment.

"I... About the Founder's Dance?" She waited for his nod, keeping her eyes on his face to gauge his response. "Do you want to go with me?"

"Do I want--?" His expression was incredulous. "I asked you."

"But that..." Elizabeth waved one hand through the air. "That was weeks ago. You might have changed your mind after this week."

"This week?"

She took a deep breath. "The gang thing. That's to do with you, isn't it?"

Ronon hesitated, looked away; Elizabeth followed his gaze down to hands that were pleating the note into nervous folds. "Yes."

"And you didn't want to do it."

"I did it to get Kolya off your back." Something flickered across his face. "You don't have to go out with me to be grateful--"

"Will you get over this idea that I don't want you!" The words came out much louder than Elizabeth had planned, and she saw the children at the playsets turn towards them at her pronouncement. The flush heated her face, neck, and ears, and she was horribly conscious that Ronon was looking at her.

This was so uncool it wasn't funny.

She dared a peek up at him, and found that he wasn't just looking at her; he was smiling with the kind of wry amusement she hadn't seen on his face since Friday night.

It didn't ease her embarrassment, but it lifted her spirits.

The slight pink tinge to his tanned skin helped as well - he was embarrassed, too. "So...we're still on for the dance?"

"Yes."

The smile tilted to one side. "Cool."

It was impossible not to smile in response to that, and Elizabeth felt her mouth curve and glanced away, flushing. She couldn't believe she'd said that to him!

A moment later, his hand slipped into hers, and he began leading her across the grass to an empty swingset. She waited until he tugged at her hand before following him. "Where are we going?"

Ronon glanced back at her, mischief in his eyes. "We're going for a swing."

"A swing?"

"Yep."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but allowed herself to be led. His fingers were warm and firm against hers, and she liked the contact. "A swing?"

"Uhuh." Ronon dumped his knapsack in the grass by the swing and began easing Elizabeth's bag off her shoulders. There was a delicious moment when she glanced up at him and wondered what it would feel like to have him ease her shirt off her shoulders, fingers sliding against skin. She squashed it before that thought got too far, although her cheeks heated at the thought.

Then again, once she was sitting on his lap - or balancing, rather - it wasn't that difficult for her imagination to wander around the idea. His face was close enough to kiss, and if he wasn't staring at her mouth, he wasn't keeping his eyes off her face - or his arm off her waist - either. Then again, she had her arm around his shoulders, while the other hand held the swing chain.

Elizabeth was reminded of them sitting in the car on Friday night, ensconced on his lap as they headed back to her place, and the way he'd watched her then.

Now, like then, he brushed a finger across her cheek and the bruise. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when I press it or bump it." She hesitated. He still hadn't answered all the questions she had, and they couldn't stare into each other's eyes all the time... "I thought you'd resent me for having to set the other gang on Kolya."

"Why?"

"I just... I don't know." He arched an eyebrow at her and she shrugged and rested her elbow on his shoulder. "Why did you think I wanted to go with someone else?"

"The note. And...other things." Ronon looked uncomfortable for a moment, then shrugged and gazed into her face. "I'm not your usual kind of guy."

Her eyes narrowed. "I have a usual kind of guy?"

His mouth quirked. "Sheppard?"

"We're friends." And she suspected they'd be so much better that way.

"McKay?"

Her mouth quirked. "Friends."

"I heard Radek Zelenka has a crush on you."

Elizabeth flushed. "I know." She liked Radek, but his enthusiasm could often be personally directed, where Rodney's was just an automatic need for someone to listen to him talk - and occasionally insult. She tried to be friendly without encouraging him.

"Ben Maroney? Peter Grodin? Carson Beckett?"

"They're all friends." She eyed him from close quarters - close enough to feel the heat of his skin against her cheek. "So are you."

Ronon grinned, and leaned in. "Just friends?"

If she leaned in a little further, their lips would touch. Instead, Elizabeth turned her head so her mouth was just beside his ear. "Mmm, maybe. You can convince me at the dance on Friday."

He threw back his head and laughed then, a belly-deep laugh that shook them both, trembled his dreadlocks, and unbalanced them on the swing.

Laughter turned into a yelp as their centres of gravity shifted, and they grabbed for the chains and wobbled for a moment. When they rebalanced, Elizabeth's nose was half-buried in his cheek, and her fingers were digging into his jacket shoulder.

And he smelled really nice, too.

"Okay," she said, remembering how to breathe again. "We might like to get off now."

Ronon's mouth curved in a smirk that she felt against her skin. "We might." Elizabeth glanced up at him to catch the twinkle in his eyes.

Realising what she'd said and how it could be interpreted, Elizabeth shook her head with a laugh. Her skin flushed again as she slipped off him and the swing and hauled up her bag. Ronon was a few seconds behind her, but she waited until he had his stuff. "I'd still like to know what you did."

"I'm not going to tell you," he said. And although he didn't sound angry, there was a hardness beneath his voice that warned her against pushing it.

Elizabeth hadn't expected anything else. "Okay. Ronon--" She hesitated. "I don't mind what you did. But you didn't have to shut me out."

"It was easier."

"Not for me."

Ronon looked at her. "I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I was more hurt when you didn't return my calls."

He kicked at the grass, for all the world like a kid getting a telling off. Finally, he looked up. "You're not my usual kind of girl, either."

Elizabeth stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're...different."

She couldn't quite keep the sarcasm from her voice. "That makes sense if I'm not your usual kind of girl."

Ronon looked like there were a lot of places he'd rather be right now, but he stood his ground. "I figured you wouldn't...mightn't want to be around me after Friday night. Because I'm not your usual kind of guy."

"Translation: you thought I'd run away because you were involved in a gang?"

"Not me. I have-- I had friends--" He broke off. "Yes."

Guys were stupid, Elizabeth decided. Cute, but stupid. But at least Ronon had been stupid because he thought he was being noble and self-sacrificing. It was sweet, in an overprotective kind of way. "I haven't run away yet."

"No," he said. After a moment, one corner of his mouth tilted a little. "You're still here."

"I'm still here." Greatly daring, she added, "And I'm not going to run away later, either."

Ronon Dex might not be her usual kind of guy - and would probably be considered entirely the wrong kind of guy for her by most of her classmates - but Elizabeth Weir was beyond caring. She liked him. And anyone who got in her way could go to hell.

Thankfully, she didn't blurt this out to him. Because that would have been even more embarrassing than anything else she'd said today.

Instead, she waited for his response with a teensy bit of apprehension.

He studied her face for a little while, then smiled. It grew from a curve of the mouth to a wolfish grin. "Glad to hear it." His hands rested lightly on his hips as he asked, "So...anything else you want to tell me off about?"

"Well, you haven't kissed me yet."

Elizabeth didn't know where that had come from. She hadn't even been planning to kiss him! And they weren't going out. Well, not quite, anyway.

Ronon looked surprised. Then the smirk came back, affectionate and admiring. "You're full of surprises, Weir."

He made no move to kiss her though, which both relieved and annoyed her - and then annoyed her further that she was annoyed he hadn't tried. Liking or not, it gave her an edge as she retorted, "And you haven't seen half of them yet, Dex. "

Ronon laughed at that, and held out one hand.

After a moment, Elizabeth smiled back at him and she slipped her fingers into his, allowing herself to be pulled along, even jostling him as they crossed the park. And Ronon jostled her right back, firmly in control of the tussle as he caught her around the waist, pulling her into his side.

"My name," he informed her, still smiling, "is Ronon."

Elizabeth laughed.

--

"How the hell does John know how to do the salsa?" Rodney asked while Ronon and Miko went to get drinks.

The school gym was festooned with streamers and balloons and music blared from the speakers set up around the room. Elizabeth shifted in her chair to find the familiar, lean figure out on the floor, making faces at Teyla, who'd agreed to partner him for this dance. "Maybe Chaya taught him," she said, shrugging.

Rodney's sideways glance was exasperated. "If Chaya had taught John, she'd be out there dancing with him, not glaring from the sidelines." He tilted his head. "And is it just me, or are Teyla's legs really--"

"Rodney!"

"Okay, okay, I'm just saying she's got nice legs! It's not like I'm, you know, ogling or anything."

Elizabeth shook her head. Guys! Not that there wasn't enough of Teyla's legs showing to make ogling an automatic reaction for most guys. The short, layered skirt had serious slittage - not Elizabeth's style, although it looked good on Teyla.

Mark Lorne had looked distinctly smug for most of the night, although right now he was sitting at another table with his friends, watching Teyla and John's dance through narrowed eyes.

"Chaya certainly hasn't looked away since the dance began," Carson said dryly, flicking a peanut across the table. "I get the feeling she doesn't exactly trust Teyla."

"Hah," Rodney snorted. "It's not Teyla she should be worrying about!"

"John wouldn't cheat," said Carson, frowning.

"No. But if we lived in Germany, he'd flirt with anything that had a feminine pronoun."

Carson made a sound that was halfway between a choke and a laugh, and Elizabeth bit back a smile. Rodney had a point.

She leaned back in her chair and let her eyes drift over to the drinks table, where the tiny Japanese girl was tugging on Ronon's sleeve and pointing something out to him further along the table. He said something and grinned, and Miko nodded and went over to whatever she'd been pointing out to him.

As if suddenly aware of her gaze on him, Ronon turned and flashed her a quick smirk. She rolled her eyes in reply, but looked away with a flush and a smile.

Carson was regarding her with amusement, and she flushed harder, but grinned back.

The last few days since the park had been good. There hadn't been sight or sound from Kolya since Friday night, and while there were rumours all around the school, none of the nine students in the know had said anything about the meeting or Ronon's offer.

Elizabeth was relieved. The last thing she wanted was to see Ronon in trouble.

So far, nobody from Shermer had been injured or caught in the crossfire yet. In spite of the announcement on Wednesday afternoon, the gang activity seemed to be relatively low-key - nobody Elizabeth talked to had seen anything of it at all.

Then again, maybe she was asking the wrong people.

At any rate, John seemed to have levelled whatever issues he had with Ronon - other than that Elizabeth liked him. It probably helped that Chaya had decided to take John in hand and was being quite possessive about him. The word that came to mind was 'clingy', but 'inseparable' worked, too.

Elizabeth hoped she wasn't as clingy around Ronon; she doubted she was, but it gave her a slight discomfort to see the other girl fawn all over John. A few months ago, that might have been her.

Now, Elizabeth was very glad it wasn't.

Her parents seemed okay with Ronon. The invite to dinner had come around again - a little more insistent. This time, Ronon had accepted. So it didn't go quite like clockwork, but there'd been no screaming, no deaths, and, most importantly, no dragging their daughter aside to ask if she'd lost her mind.

A plastic cup was set on the table in front of her. "Drinks," Ronon said, carrying four cups filled with soda. "Miko has the peanuts."

Miko set the bowl of peanuts down and put a cup down in front of Rodney. Then she sat down beside him and looked hopefully at the otherwise oblivious boy.

"Oh, good." Rodney peered at the drink. "You're sure this didn't touch the lemonade?"

A peanut bounced off his forehead, tossed by Carson. "Rodney, when a girl hands you a drink, you say 'thank you' and drink it."

"And then go into anaphylactic shock when--"

"Rodney!"

"Oh, all right, all right. Thanks, Miko."

The girl blushed all over her face. Carson glanced at Elizabeth and rolled his eyes, then arched an eyebrow when Ronon leaned over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Elizabeth turned to Ronon. "Hm?"

"McKay's always this stupid?" His voice was a deep, low hum that sent shivers down her spine.

"Well, not stupid exactly..." Elizabeth protested. Ronon gave her a look and she sighed. "Just oblivious."

"Uhuh." Ronon glanced around the room, his eyes resting on John and Teyla out on the dance floor. Elizabeth followed his gaze.

"John hasn't been causing you trouble or anything?"

Ronon turned towards her, a little surprised. "Nope."

"Good."

She didn't need to look at him to know that his eye narrowed fractionally. "Did you tell him not to?"

"I told him he was an idiot," she said candidly, hoping that he wasn't going to take offence for what she'd said. "No, actually, I told him he was a bastard."

That brought a short chuckle. "I thought you defended your friends!"

"Only when they're not being idiots," Elizabeth retorted, and he laughed again and rested an arm around her shoulders, casually comfortable. In response, she leaned back against him, and levelled a narrow-eyed gaze at both Rodney and Carson when they regarded first her, then Ronon, and then her again.

The music finished with a flourish, and almost immediately moved into the next song. Couples came off the floor, laughing and chatting, and the students who'd been too scared of looking silly during the salsa dance went back on.

Elizabeth's eyes tracked over to her friends. John was saying something to Teyla - evidently annoying enough to gain him a smack on the shoulder, before she rolled her eyes and walked off towards Mark without a further word. John watched her go, a smug little smile on his face until Chaya fronted up to him, head tilted challengingly. Elizabeth watched as John kissed the Venezuelan girl, slung a casual arm around her waist and sauntered off towards the drinks table.

A month ago, she'd been angry because John had casually assumed Teyla would want to come to the dance with him.

So much had happened in a month. And Elizabeth was glad it had happened. Even the bits with Kolya - because without Kolya, she'd never have noticed Ronon at all.

Everything happens for a reason.

"Wishing you'd gone with Sheppard?"

She glanced over at Ronon and answered easily. "Nope."

He looked as though he wanted to believe her, but wasn't entirely convinced it was the case. Elizabeth sighed to herself.

Boys!

"Want to dance?" Ronon indicated the floor. More pleased with this question than the last one, Elizabeth put down her cup and took his hand in her own.

She let him take the lead after a few steps, rearranging their hands and following him out to the floor.

Once there, Elizabeth put her arms around Ronon's neck and let him slide his hands around her waist so their bodies were barely touching. She wasn't comfortable with attaching herself to him like a limpet - and she doubted he'd want that either.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what the music was, only that it was nice. Ronon had a pretty good sense of rhythm, and she was enjoying the warmth of his hands on her waist and the scent of him in her nostrils. In his neat white shirt with the high Turkish collar that didn't quite disguise the tattoo at his throat, he looked good enough to eat, too.

"So what did your parents think of me?"

In the dimmed-down lights of the gym, Elizabeth grinned. "They let me come to the dance with you." Not that they could have stopped her.

"Nice of them." She could feel the laughter in his chest.

"If they didn't think you were okay, Dad would have been a lot worse," she said.

Ronon looked wry. "There's worse?"

His expression made her laugh. "Worse," she affirmed.

Considering Elizabeth's dad had been very much into the heavy-handed, name-dropping, unsubtle hints kind of behaviour during dinner - thankfully mitigated by her mom's calm politeness - she could imagine that Ronon might have a touch of apprehension.

A glimmer of a smile touched his mouth. "Right. Consider yourself dumped."

"Dumped?" In spite of the obvious teasing - his hands were quite firmly locked in the small of her back - she couldn't help the stutter of fear his words gave her. Then her eyes narrowed. "In order to dump me, Ronon, we'd have to be going out first."

One dark brow arched. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I see." He fell silent for a few beats, then bent and kissed her on the mouth, too fast for her to do more than open her mouth in surprise.

It was light, no tongue, but definitely a kiss. And quick. There was no time to respond, much as she wanted to.

Around them, the other dancing students giggled and wolf-whistled. Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at a particularly piercing whistle, and glared at Laura Cadman, who was being unsuccessfully shushed by Carson.

Then she looked back at Ronon.

"So are we going out?" He spoke lightly, but there was a touch of tension in his voice.

Elizabeth put on a thoughtful look, and toyed with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. "Do it again and I'll think about it."

This time, she was ready when his lips touched hers, and her hand slid up into his hair, making sure he didn't pull away too fast. She was going to enjoy this - even if it meant making a scene. Ronon was a surprisingly good kisser, too. Gentle but firm, not sloppy or pushy, and not inclined to stick his tongue in just because she opened her mouth.

When they broke apart, Elizabeth could feel the flush all the way across her shoulders. And he looked a bit flushed as well. Self-consciously, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, we're going out."

Ronon smirked and his hands eased her in just a little bit closer. "Good to know."

Elizabeth let herself relax against him. She was pretty sure she was grinning back at him like some kind of lovestruck idiot girl, but right now, she couldn't care less.

The rest of the night passed like a dream. Elizabeth danced with Ronon and several other guy friends, submitted to the teasing of her classmates in the restrooms, and told Teyla to stop smiling at least five times before the end of the night.

And she kept the silly grin all the way back to her place when he got out of the car to see her up to the door.

"Do you expect to be invited in?" The question came out more archly than she'd intended, and Elizabeth flushed a little although he probably couldn't see that in the porch light.

"I get invited in?" Ronon countered, but shook his head with a faint grin. "I think one dose of your parents is enough for the night. Give them time to recover."

Elizabeth grinned. "Give them time to recover? You sure you aren't scared?"

"Maybe a bit." He tilted his head, still smiling. "You'd be scared if you were me." His hands were slipping around her waist again, though, so she ignored the insult to her parents - not that they weren't scary sometimes - and reached up to brush her fingers over the skin of his throat.

The silence elongated, seeming to spread to cover not only them but also the street and neighbourhood beyond.

There was a moment when everything seemed breathless, and Elizabeth felt more than a little shy; then Ronon bent down to her and she completely forgot shyness.

His lips paused about an inch away from hers, and a noise of exasperation escaped her as she closed the gap. Elizabeth felt his laughter, and knew that she was smiling in spite of the fact that their mouths were very busy.

Ronon was a really good kisser.

She could get used to this.

A rustle in the bushes broke them apart, but a moment later, one of the neighbourhood cats strolled out from behind a bush, quite casually, and Ronon glanced at the door. "You should go inside."

"Uhuh," she said, and kissed him briefly on the mouth one more time, just because. "See you Monday?"

He shrugged as one hand caught hers. "It's school." Then he grinned at her, winked, and walked away.

Elizabeth shook her head as she opened the door, but paused to wave at him as he drove off. And when she went inside, she was smiling.

He was definitely her kind of guy.

- fin -

FINAL NOTES: Whew! 35,000 words to another Liz/Ronon crackfic AU! I think it's time to start writing the serious fic again...

I have sequel ideas, but I think that they'll just remain ideas for the moment. I really do want to write more 'sane' fic (for a given value of 'sane') and I can't do it when I'm putting all my energy into crackfic. However, at some point in the future, I may put out some shortfics from this AU. We'll see.

At some stage, I will probably also be laying out some of the thought processes that went on behind this story, why I put people here, why I juxtaposed characters, the hints about them that don't get explained in the story...mostly just for the sake of showing off. :) The infodumping you do when you're not really infodumping.

Anyway, thanks for reading, bearing with me, leaving feedback, comments, love, squeals, and exclamations of delight, and for offering suggestions - it's all been very muchly appreciated and I'm glad you enjoyed it!