Thank you, port32.com critics.

A thank you from my Dad for those who helped critique the www.port32.com site:

Thanks again, this is very useful. I had a web development company forced upon me and the only way I could keep the job moving was to just let run with it. So we're launched on time and most of the PC users appear to have few or no problems, but the mac side is a mess. And of course since the Toronto people I ask would think that I designed the site they'd be reluctant to bash it. What I need, and what I'm getting from you and your colleagues, is the truth. Now, how to use the information...very touchy politics in this one.

Nice to hear compliments about the photography since I did shoot much of it. And I directed the video shoot, but not the edit.

Now heading North to the island of sanity.

Great work, guys.

He doesn't write slash, but shall I see if I can get another story from his cabin out of him? :)

Darn this Out Of Bounds. I sit down to write a the next chapter -- and a completely different chapter pops out. How I'm going to meld this in I have no idea.

SGA Ficlet: Back Door - John/Rodney, Elizabeth - PG-13

Back Door
by Icarus


John would never live it down.

In Elizabeth's office, John ran his hands over his face, knowing and hating the fact that he was beet red. "You can cut it out now."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together and managed to say, almost primly, clearly enjoying his embarrassment as she leaned on an elbow, "I haven't said a word."

"No," John snarled, and wished it didn't sound so whiny, "but you're thinking it. Loud and clear."

The worst part was the fact that it was all John's fault. He'd established his open-door policy early on, and he was the one that thought it was a good idea for him and Rodney to....

Elizabeth took a breath and said in a mock-understanding tone, moving some things around on her desk, "John, I've always prided myself on being very open-minded. I just never quite pictured that you--"

Their meeting could wait.

John stood and said over his shoulder, pointing a finger at her, "This is going to stop."

"I just have one question."

Against his better judgment John paused, still with his back to her.

"How did you manage to mix up Rodney's boxers with your--"

"That's it!" John flung open the door and marched out. It didn't help that he could feel her widening smile on his back. And found himself faced with... boxes. And a bare wall.

"John?"

Her voice was muffled but the amusement had only grown.

"Yeah, I know...."

"That's not the door."

John sighed and looked up at the high ceiling of the closet miserably, wishing there was, like, another exit. Or a secret passageway.

There was a long pause before John said, "I don't actually have to come out of here, do I? I mean, you could just leave first."

"Oh, look. It's time for lunch," she replied. He could hear folders being gathered up. "See you there?"

"Yeah, whatever."