<blockquote>It’s been a year and a half, and John’s gotten used to Atlantis. Command can be a pain in the ass, and there’s the possible death by life-sucking alien, 1950’s-era bomb attack, ten-thousand-year-old anything, and being turned into a fucking bug, but there are perks. Really sweet ride, for one. Ascended sex. Fucking with Rodney’s head. Shooting people.
All in all, he likes it.
And he’s settled in, tested his limits, gotten comfortable. He got himself into command right away, figured out how far he could go with Elizabeth during the virus incident (answer: all the way, like he ever thought anything else), and just recently, the Caldwell Goa’uld thing. Serious luck, there. No one really trusts Caldwell anymore.</blockquote>