Disclaimer: Don't own Stargate Atlantis…

Title: What Else Did You Expect?

A/N: Shep/Weir friendship, interpret it how you like. Not exactly a holiday fic, but I was determined to spin out something for the occasion. Happy holidays, everyone!

XXXXXXXXXX

The heated kitchen could easily be declared a disaster zone. Bowls and spoons lay strewn over the counters and clumps of cake mixture dotted the floor, Elizabeth's clothes, John's hair and the wall at the far end. Elizabeth was sure one look at the usually spotless area would have the kitchen staff after her blood. She was the one who'd given the man permission to make a cake and how he'd convinced her to join him she still didn't know. John didn't seem to mind the mess. In fact, according to the finger traced words in a pile of spilt flour: more mess equals better.

'Can I clean up now?' Elizabeth asked, sounding very much like a child who'd been repeatedly denied something and wiping away the message on the counter.

'Sure thing. Go ahead.' Grinning mischievously, John slipped onto a high stool and began tasting a light icing sugar he'd already 'tested' five times.

'You aren't going to help me?'

'I think you can manage on your own,' he told her, ducking from the tea towel she flung at him. 'Besides, I'm not afraid of the kitchen staff. They're harmless.'

Elizabeth shot him a withering look and said snidely,

'I wonder what you'll be saying when they poison your food?' She chose to begin on the dishes without him. She could repay him for his act of laziness later. She sent a stream of dishwashing liquid into the sink but froze suddenly.

'What?'

'How did we manage to dirty'- she counted quickly- 'fifteen bowls?'

A shrug was his response.

'Okay, now you have to help me. I'm sure I didn't use so many bowls.'

'That would be because you didn't contribute to the making of the cake at all.'

'You're saying you did it all?'

'Yes,' John said with mock regret. 'I am. Well, you did crack the eggs but that was it.'

Elizabeth opened her mouth, ready to sling a sharp remark back at him, but was stopped by a shrill ringing. Both dashed to the low oven, childishly determined to be the first there, though John did have the courtesy to save Elizabeth when she tripped over a stray fork.

The cake was pulled out and the two chefs stared down at the result of two hours work. If Elizabeth were to describe it honestly, she would have said it resembled a dark brown Frisbee.

'I knew we forgot something,' John said.

'We? Just a moment ago you assured me I had virtually no part in the creation of this 'cake'. I'd say it was all you.'

Elizabeth took one look at John's dejected expression, then the tray and burst out laughing.

Right until he lobbed half of the failed cake at her.