Pairing: Elizabeth Weir/Cameron Mitchell
Fic Title: That Our Sons May Follow After
Rating/Warning(s): NC-17, sex, violence, apoco-fic
Genre: Apoco-fic, AU, Angst
Why This Must Be Read: Set in an alternate universe where Elizabeth never joined the Atlantis expedition and instead continued her diplomatic career. It starts off at IOA negotiations where Cameron is her military escort, and medie makes the ship work wonderfully. There's political intrigue, an apocalyptic setting, flawless writing, and great characterization. A must-read for anyone that appreciates crossovers or unique pairings.
"Come on," Mitchell says, touching her arm. "The car's outside, and I know a great little Thai place."
Alana is waiting with her escort when Elizabeth and Mitchell emerge into the sunny Ottawa afternoon. She starts to speak as soon as they near her, "Our people have intelligence – "
She doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence as the building behind her explodes, taking most of the IOA with it. Elizabeth crashes to the ground behind the limo, Mitchell flattening her to the ground beneath him. "Don't move," he warns, voice harsh in her ear.
She nods, and stays where she landed, taking stock of her injuries. Her palms are scraped and bloodied, she can feel blood from a head wound trickling down her cheek, and her knees may never forgive her, but she's alive. Turning her head cautiously, she sees Alana flat on her stomach, her guard kneeling over her.
"Guess we know what they were stalling for," Alana says grimly, sporting injuries of her own. A lurid gash decorates her right cheek in counterpart to the cut opened up above her left eye.
Elizabeth looks back over her shoulder at what's left of the building. It's in flames, and she briefly recalls Alana mentioning the history of the place, added onto the Parliamentary block after a fire. Staring at the ruins, she thinks of Ambassador Chen and shivers.
"We need to get out of here," Mitchell says, as the scream of sirens echoes through the air. The Canadians are reacting to the threat, and beneath the sirens, Elizabeth can hear the yelling of security personnel. She doesn't look up, still caught on something.
She looks over at Alana, "Chen?"
The Canadian lifts her head, smiling grimly when her escort tries to push her back down again. She ignores him and risks looking, "I don't see her."
"Oh my god," Elizabeth murmurs, "if it was her people –"
"They sent her on a suicide mission," Mitchell agrees. He looks over at his Canadian counterpart, they share a conversation, gestures and one word sentences, and then he's pulling Elizabeth up to her feet. "In the car."
Her last glimpse of Alana is a quick-fingered wave as they're both shoved into cars, racing off in separate directions.