Rodney traded worried looks with Radek. They agreed on this, but that didn’t mean that Rodney’s stomach appreciated the stress. “We’re ready to dial Earth,” Rodney said.

Elizabeth beamed. This was a huge victory for her, and she looked around the room to the people who had crowded the central tower, pride on her face. “We’re calling home with news that we are a strong base capable of defending ourselves, and with intelligence on the threat that we have fought. We have done good work, people, and it is largely due to you and the sacrifices you have made for this city.” She turned to Rodney. “Dial Earth.”

“Dialing.” Rodney hit the symbols. The wormhole engaged, and Elizabeth smiled.

“Earth, this is Atlantis, dialing in to give you an update on our situation.”

“Dr. Weir?” a shocked voice answered. “Just… I’ll get General Landry. Tell him it’s Atlantis.”

“I assume that last part wasn’t for us,” Sheppard said as he stood next to Weir looking twice as proud.

Rodney pressed his lips together. He was doing this for Sheppard. Tony had pointed out that Sheppard was a pretty unlikely commanding officer, and after decades of work with the US military, Rodney had to agree. If they found out that John was in charge, the SGC was going to replace him the second they found a ZPM. Rodney just had to convince them that it wasn’t a good idea to send people through the wormhole.

“Dr. Weir, is that you?” The screen flickered, and then they had a video signal. True, the audio was a little out of sync, but then Radek’s fussing with the gate filters were probably to blame for that.

“General Landry, it’s good to see your face again.”

“We thought you were lost Dr. Weir. Where’s Colonel Sumner?”

Elizabeth case her eyes downward for a second in that expression of perfect sympathy that Rodney had never mastered, not even when he was feeling bad for someone. “I’m sorry, Hank. We lost Colonel Sumner very early in the mission. We’re forwarding the mission logs and some personal mail. We’ve found some significant enemies here, although luckily we haven’t run into any goa’uld.”

“Significant enemies?” General Landry leaned over and spoke to someone. The tech had clearly cut off the microphone because no sound came through. When he stood up again, the sound returned. “We have some good news. We found a ZPM, so once you disengage, we’re going to take a couple of hours to regroup, and then dial you back with reinforcements.”

Rodney’s stomach dropped. Reinforcement? That was military speak for ‘we’ll replace your clearly non-standard military commander.’ No, no, no. They’d searched years for one ZPM, and now Earth just magically found another one? If the Ancients were sticking their glowy little noses into Atlantis business, Rodney was going to spend his life finding a way to blow them up. Damn interfering glowing squid. If they wanted to stick their noses into human business, they could damn well de-ascend and take their chances with a human body like all the other de-ascended Ancients.

“We’re having some trouble with the gate, and the extra distance might pose a problem when traveling between galaxies,” Rodney said. He focused on believing what he was saying. It was a stabilization error. Energy signals had minor fluctuations.

“What sort of fluctuations?” Colonel Carter asked, stepping into the screen. “Hi Rodney. Nice to see you aren’t dead.”

“Yes, yes, and it’s the sort of fluctuations you get with 10,000 year old equipment. We only got our ZPM a week ago, and it’s been sitting at the bottom of a dark cave for all that time, so excuse me if we’ve had a few errors come up.”

“What sort of errors?” Carter asked with that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth expression. Rodney hated her, which is why it was so much harder that he was seriously sexually attracted to her. She was the sort of genius that his parents would always point to. ‘So-and-so can be social. It has nothing to do with intelligence, you just don’t try hard enough, Rodney’ they’d tell him. Well fuck Carter and her good social skills and her habit of ignoring safety protocols. As far as he was concerned, she was nowhere near as smart as him, and maybe that’s why she could be polite to stupid people.

“The sort I don’t need your help to fix,” Rodney snapped. “You’d probably turn off half the safety protocols and then bat your eyes at someone and apologize when someone died in transit.”

Rodney noted with some satisfaction that Carter turned white. That’s right. She carried a lot of the blame for Teal’c’s near death, and Rodney wasn’t going to let her forget it. He pressed his lips together and crossed his arms.

“Whoa, hey there, buddy.” Sheppard’s hand rested on Rodney’s shoulder. “No one is going to get killed and I’m sure you can figure it out, just send Carter the readings so she can be as impressed with your brilliance as the rest of us are, okay?”

“Yes, yes, I send,” Radek said. “But organic matter, it should be tested.”

“Are you having trouble with local addresses?” Carter asked. She was all business now, no more trying to suck up to anyone. Good. Rodney still vibrated with frustration, but Sheppard’s hand stayed on his shoulder, and Rodney tried his best to keep his mouth shut. He was trying to make Sheppard look good here.

“Soldiers report some tingling,” Radek said. “Not bad, but traveling between galaxies is much longer. We should test, maybe we will not have trouble with incoming wormhole.”

Of course they were going to have trouble with the incoming worm hole. That was the whole point. Rodney felt a little flash of smug satisfaction at the idea that Carter would never catch what he and Radek had done. Their coding had improved too much. Between their creativity with computers and Samas’ speed and accuracy, they could perform miracles that she wouldn’t be able to understand any more than a monkey could understand Latin.

“Okay,” General Landry said. “Do you folks have any particular requests for what we send through?”

“Coffee!” several voiced called out.

Landry laughed. “Coffee it is, what else?”

“P90 ammunition and more land to air rockets,” Sheppard said. These Wraith are hard bastards to take down, sir. We have a number of hive ships inbound, and while we have a shield, we may have to get creative to take these guys out. However, until the wormhole is stable, maybe you can avoid sending any nukes through.”

“Nukes? Is it that bad?”

Sheppard’s expression turned grim. “These are the bastards that drove the Ancients out of this galaxy.”

“We will read the reports and take it under advisement, Major Sheppard,” Landry said. “What else are you folks looking for?”

“Spices,” Weir said. Several people nodded. “Tava beans are almost palatable with chili peppers, but without Earth spices, it is not my favorite food.”

Rodney added. “Wiring. We need more wiring to connect ancient systems to our computer, and more computers. A lot more computers. Tablets or laptops.” Rodney had to equip all his new technicians.

“Copper,” Radek said. “Is most hard to find here. And chickens.”

“Excuse me?” General Landry asked.

Radek shrugged. “We need to test with actual living things. Eggs are a very good trade item, and more alpaca. The hairs is very useful, and cloth would be good with trading.”

Rodney turned his chair around and gave Radek and odd look. Since when did Radak care about alpaca and cloth?

“What? Selana mentions it often. We need animals to test anyway. I would rather have more goats and chicken and alpaca than mice.”

“We also have gardens that are isolated to prevent cross contamination, so I would like to start growing more earth staples,” Elizabeth said, “Yams, soybeans, potatoes, rice, wheat, corn. If we stop importing food, it will help us diplomatically. This is a tough neighborhood, General, and if others perceive us as being unable to take care of ourselves, it’s going to get tougher.”

“That is true,” Teyla offered. “And Dr. Zelenka’s suggestion for more alpaca is also reasonable. The exportation of such high quality cloth could do much to convince people that Atlantis is secure.”

“Cloth?” General Landry pasted a smile over his doubt and nodded. “Of course. If there’s nothing else, I’ll call everyone and let them know that you folks are okay and then we’ll review the reports.”

“Thank you, General Landry,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s good to see you folks alive and well. We were getting worried. Landry out.”

Once the wormhole disconnected, Rodney felt like he could breathe again. They weren’t sending anyone through—not right away. He’d saved John’s job today, and now he just had to save it again tomorrow.

Tony stretched out. The cool ocean air drifted through the window, and the curtains that led to their balcony drifted in with the breeze. Gibbs came out of the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam. He stopped and eyed Tony. "Is that a new bed?"

So much for looking seductive. Tony rolled onto his side and pulled the sheet up. "I got tired of having two small mattresses pushed together. I always ended up with my ass on the hard platform when they separated."

Gibbs grunted, which Tony took as an invitation to continue.

"I got Spertia to take two mattresses and create one queen size. Next up, real sheets."

"What did you trade her?"

Tony grinned. "Some of the eggs might have vanished between the chicken runs and the kitchen. Spertia's son is going out on a trading mission tomorrow, and you know how those things go."

"We're running a black market based on eggs."

"Hey, it’s better than trying to track down a drug ring. We just have an egg ring.”

Gibbs pulled back the covers and slipped into bed. Tony reached out and ran his hand over Gibbs’ arm. It never stopped feeling special—this ability to lie close to Gibbs at night. Gibbs smiled at him before catching Tony’s wrist and tightening his fingers around it possessively. “How was your day?”

“Quiet. Some food was getting stolen out of the kitchens.”

“You mean other than the eggs you stole?”

Tony grinned. “Well, yeah. It turns out that one of the kids from the M7G-677 villages got worried because there’s no way for him to hunt here, so he was stockpiling food.”

“You get him straightened out?”

“Yeah. We talked about perishable food and non-perishable food, and then I helped him steal of box of MREs.”

Gibbs turned his head to the side and gave Tony one of his incredulous looks. Tony grinned. “Have I mentioned how much I love not having a supervisor? No director to justify myself to, no reports. Okay, so I have reports, but I put what I want in them because you are too busy to catch me doing it.”

“Maybe I should pay more attention to what you’re doing.” Gibbs rolled closer and ended up lying halfway on top of Tony, pinning him down. Immediately Tony’s cock started perking up.

“Feel free, boss.”

Gibbs captured Tony’s arm and held it over his head before leaning close for a soft kiss. This was all Gibbs. Gibbs liked slow and easy, and Tony loved to oblige. Actually, he loved to indulge in prey games too. He just loved making his lovers happy in any form. Gibbs kissed the side of Tony’s neck, just under the ear, and then caught Tony’s other hand and brought it up over his head. Tony hummed and arched his back in invitation.

When Gibbs started wrapping fabric around Tony’s wrists, Tony’s whole body relaxed into the touch even as his cock got harder. Yep, Gibbs had him trained in every sense of the word. Once Tony’s wrists were wrapped, Gibbs tied the rope around it, and Tony was not officially helpless.

“It’s a good thing we don’t have a maid or you’d have to explain why we have ropes hanging from the bedframe,” Tony joked. Gibbs ran his hand over Tony’s chest and started his slow exploration. Tony took deep breaths and tried to calm himself. If he tried to rush Gibbs, he’d end up with his feet tied and a gag in his mouth. Some days that was fun, but maybe not right now.

“How are things going in the tower?”

Gibbs rolled Tony’s nipple between a rough thumb and finger, and Tony groaned in need. “Earth has sent through a lot of supplies. Radek has narrowed the glitch down to the systems that check for infectious disease during reintegration. We’ve only lost two of the chickens and a half dozen test mice, but apparently Stargate Command feels that’s too high a risk to use the gate for personnel.”

“Huh. When are they going to fix the glitch?”

“Whenever they want to,” Gibbs said.

Yeah, Tony had figured that much. Rodney would be freaking out way more if the Stargate were truly broken. “So, for right now we are stuck with Sheppard as our military commander.”

“Since the SGC can’t get anyone else out here, it seems like it,” Gibbs agreed. “Sheppard has a full military meeting tomorrow to discuss crazy plans for blowing up hive ships.”

“I assume the scientists are going to be there.”

“Yep,” Gibbs said. He kissed his way down the center of Tony’s chest and stopped right above Tony’s belly button. Tony grunted as hard need rolled through him.

“Boss, please,” he begged.

“I love the sound of that.”

“Begging?”

“From you, yes,” Gibbs said. “I also like knowing I’m still the boss.”

“Always, boss.”

Gibbs rewarded him by skimming his hand over Tony's bare chest and dipping his fingers under the band of his pajama bottoms. Tony groaned and arched his back. "Of course, this is not going to last as long as Rodney had hoped. It turns out that Earth has a ship."

"A ship?" Tony was struggling to string thoughts together as Gibbs tormented him, one finger brushing agains the head of his cock.

"You know, one of those big metal things for carrying servicemen," Gibbs teased. There was nothing as hot as Gibbs teasing him. This was something personal--something for only Tony. Only Tony got hunted down by Samas, and only Tony got to see the gentle teasing side of Gibbs. When they'd been coworkers, Tony had fantasized about what it would mean to belong to Gibbs, but he hadn't come anywhere close to reality. On one hand, Gibbs was far more laid back than other men Tony had played dominance games with. On the other, Tony felt his ownership in every cell of his being. It was like Gibbs' assumption that Tony belonged to him defined reality. Tony couldn't possibly have an existence other than that of Gibbs' second and lover.

"Is your mind wandering?" Gibbs asked as he wrapped his calloused fingers around Tony's cock.

"Thinking about how much hotter you are in reality than you were in my fantasies back in DC," Tony admitted.

Gibbs chuckled, his breath tickling the little hairs along the side of Tony's neck. "My ex-wives would disagree."

Tony noted that Gibbs was excluding Shannon from that list of unappreciative ex-lovers. "I would disagree with them. So, Earth is sending a ship?" Tony needed the distraction because Gibbs had abandoned his grip on Tony's cock and he was running his fingers over Tony's flank. He was definitely planning on making this last, and that meant that Tony needed to focus on something other than his overheated and overstimulated body.

"They are. When they found out that our shields can hold for at least a hundred years, they decided that it may take a few months to prepare a response."

"So in other words, you're on your own?" Tony asked. Gibbs could talk all he wanted about the military sticking up for their own, after years in NCIS, Tony had his own opinion on the matter. O'Neill's willingness to essentially arrest Gibbs for trying to help Samas was just one more example of the monumental shittiness that military minds could conceive.

"If we were in danger, they'd scramble someone out here," Gibbs said, "but as it stands, I think they want to give Sheppard enough rope to hang himself."

Tony lost his train of thought when Gibbs nipped at his neck and then started gently sucking at the mark. Tony fought against the ropes that held him down, but there was no way to escape. He could only squirm and suffer at Gibbs slowly marked him. The worst part was, Gibbs hadn't even gotten around to taking off Tony's pajama bottoms, so he was definitely in a mood for slow torture. The second B for bastard was definitely in play.

"Weir is being too complimentary toward our major. The generals can't remove him without upsetting Weir and her political allies, but they can't leave him in charge."

"I thought Weir was pissed about how many people he brought back from Hoff." Tony struggled to keep his thoughts in order, but the fact was that most of the city had heard that fight. Sheppard had brought back all the technicians Rodney wanted, but apparently Rodney and Weir had not been on the same page regarding the number implied by the words 'absolutely necessary.' And when Weir had said family, she meant wives, husbands and children. Instead, Atlantis had inherited sixteen technical workers along with eighty three aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents and assorted in-laws. After the anti-Wraith drug they'd administered to themselves had killed half their population, the family members that remained wanted to stick together.

"No other military commander would have let her hire local technicians at all."

Tony grunted. Part of that was that Gibbs was now massaging Tony's shoulder, and part was the irony of that statement. Sheppard had brought the Athosians through the gate en masse, and it was Weir who had protested.

"You seem to have too many brain cells left to discuss politics," Gibbs observed.

"No, I'm trying to focus on anything other than the fact that you're driving me insane. I would demand that you fuck me hard, but we both know what happens when I make demands."

Gibbs chuckled and ran a finger over Tony's lips. Yeah, Gibbs remembered. And Tony did not mind his lips stretching around the thick cloth that stuffed his mouth. However, he wanted to be good for Gibbs, so he didn't comment. Gibbs rewarded him by bringing his knee up and resting it against Tony’s cock and leaning his weight against it.

Tony humped Gibbs’ leg. No, it wasn’t dignified, but dignity be damned if he got some sex.

“What do you want Tony?” Tony opened his mouth, but Gibbs interrupted him before he could even begin. “What do you really want tonight, Tony. Your call, and I won’t do this often, so think carefully.” Gibbs kissed Tony’s collarbone, his leg still pinning Tony down in all the best ways.

Tony’s brain, meanwhile, was completely whiting out. Anything. Gibbs was offering him anything. Tony was suddenly inundated with memories of the various things he’d tried—some athletic enough that it would take someone with an onac to really pull it off well. Tony had been hard on some of the dominants he’s played with. But then it had been play. Vowing to work his way through the Gay Kama Sutra had been a challenge no different from trying to beat everyone else’s Guitar Hero score or getting top spot with movie trivia.

Tony pulled against the rope until his arm muscles were tight with strain and he looked up at Gibbs. There was no expectation there. This wasn’t a game that Gibbs was playing, and there was no wrong answer, but there was still only one answer Tony could give.

“I want to make you happy, boss. Whatever you want.”

Gibbs smiled. It wasn’t a big smile or one of those rare moments when he was caught off guard and he laughed. No, this was a small, private smile—a moment between them. Gibbs cupped Tony’s cheek in his palm and leaned closer to brush his lips against Tony’s. “You are a treasure, Tony.”

Tony bit his tongue and tried to avoid saying anything particularly stupid or goofy that would break the spell.

Gibbs kissed him again, and this time he was demanding and aggressive, far more than usual for Gibbs. Tony’s cock was so hard that it had started to ache, but that hot need faded to the background as Gibbs caught him by the back of the neck and kissed him until Tony was lightheaded from lack of air. By the time Gibbs leaned back, Tony felt kiss-stupid and weightless.

Gibbs encouraged him to roll onto his stomach with gentle hands at his hips. Work roughened hands ran down Tony’s back, and then Gibbs was sliding Tony’s pajama bottoms down.

“Gibbs,” Tony said, his voice weak and breathy. With his cock trapped under his body, he had good cause. Gibbs rested a hot hand against the small of Tony’s back and then he kissed the back of Tony’s neck, his breath stirring the small hairs. Tony pressed his face into the pillow and groaned. Gibbs started massaging Tony’s back, his strong fingers finding all the worry knots and stress under his skin and smoothing it away.

Tony was caught between the relaxing feel of Gibbs’ soothing hands and the ever greater tension and sexual frustration that ruled his cock. Tony opened his legs in invitation, and Gibbs shifted so that he was kneeling between Tony’s thighs. Gibbs continued with his ministrations, adding in small kisses and the dull scrape of his teeth over Tony’s shoulder, making Tony shiver.

Then the bed dipped and Gibbs was gone, taking his heat and strong hands away with him. Tony groaned.

“I’m getting oil. I don’t want you hurt, Tony.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, boss.”

“I think I hurt you too often without realizing it,” Gibbs disagreed. “I never did think you were mine. I kept telling Samas that he was confusing us—expecting that you would be as loyal as an onac simply because he recognized some of your behaviors. But he was right the whole time, wasn’t he? From the time you took the job on my team, you were mine.”

“I was yours the moment you trusted me to make my own decision about whether or not to turn in my dirty partner, boss. You had faith in me.”

“And I never once doubted you, Tony. I was just afraid of asking too much from you.”

Tony snorted. That was as close as he could come to calling Gibbs dumb. Tony recognized the sound of Gibbs rubbing his hands together, and then slicked palms rubbed him on both asscheeks. Tony pressed his forehead deep into the pillow and struggled up onto his knees. With his hands tied, it wasn’t easy, but he was encouraged by Gibbs’ gentle petting.

When Tony finally settled on his knees, his ass thrust awkwardly into the air, Gibbs slipped rubbed his slippery fingers over Tony’s hole. Cool oil dripped onto his crack and ran down over Tony’s hole and then Gibbs rubbed the escaping dropped into Tony’s perineum. Finally, Gibbs slipped a finger inside. Gibbs slid a second finger in before he pressed in deep enough to hit Tony’s prostate.

“Gibbs. Boss. Aw shit.” After that, Tony was out of words.

“I’m getting there, Tony,” Gibbs whispered, his words a promise. And Gibbs always kept his promises. Gibbs shifted around on the bed behind Tony and then he was pressing against Tony’s ass. Tony felt the burn as he muscles stretched. Two fingers hadn’t been enough to save him from the worst of the pressure, and Tony loved it. He loved the feel of Gibbs forcing his way in.

He fisted his hands around the headboard and pressed back slightly. Both Gibbs hands were on his hips down, fingertips brusing Tony’s flesh. Tony wanted to impale himself on Gibbs cock, to ride Gibbs hard. But more than that, he wanted to give himself to Gibbs, so he panted through the frustration as he let Gibbs settle forward until finally, Gibbs pressed up against the back of Tony’s thighs. Too soon, Gibbs started to pull back, and Tony made an undignified whine that he would never admit to in his saner moments. However, Gibbs thrust back in before Tony could get too unhappy.

Gibbs started with small, slow thrusts that left Tony aching for more. With each thrust, Gibbs would run his hands up Tony’s back or over his ass. It was as if Gibbs were touch-starved, and Tony was a feast. Tony understood. He knew what it was to want someone’s touch, someone’s warmth. The fact that he could feed Gibbs’ need made him feel whole in a way that no other relationship had.

For a long time, Gibbs continued with his slow, deliberate thrusts, and Tony rocked forward and back with the rhythm of Gibbs’ body. Eventually Gibbs let his hands trail down to Tony’s thighs, and then he braced one hand on Tony’s back and reached around to grab Tony’s cock.

Tony lost all control. Yes, Gibbs wanted slow and easy, but Tony was ready to explode out of his skin. He thrust forward and then jerked back the two whole inches the rope allowed him. Their sex degenerated into hard lunges where their bodies slapped together and heavy breathing. Tony started cursing softly, struggling to drive himself back onto Gibbs cock, and at the same time desperate to thrust forward into his hand. Tony’s body turned into a mass of uncoordinated twitches until Gibbs took control. He tightened his hand around Tony’s cock to still him and then started fucking him hard and fast.

Tony cried out as he came, and he could feel Gibbs jerk behind him, his own orgasm coming a second later. With his whole body caught in the tension and fire of orgasm, Tony cried out, and then as the fire of need slowly started to fade, he collapsed onto the wet spot, his face back in the pillow, and his fingers opening and closing around the rope that anchored him to the bed.

Gibbs lay on top, his half-hard cock slowly starting to slip free, and Tony shivered as the air was suddenly cool against his sweaty back. Gibbs chuckled and pulled a sheet over them both. “I keep waiting for you to decide I’m too damn selfish,” Gibbs said quietly.

“Too bad I’m never going to think that, then. I guess that disproves the theory that your gut is always right.”

Gibbs wrapped and arm around Tony’s waist and pulled him close. Tony was starting to slide into sleep when Gibbs finally undid the ropes around his wrists. Tony brought rolled to one side and ran his hands up and down Gibbs’ arm as he thought ‘off’ at the lights. Atlantis complied by turning them all off so that only the winking city lights coming in through the blowing curtains disturbed the darkness.

Elizabeth watched through the open door of her office as Major Sheppard leaned against the DHD and either talked to, or more likely, harassed Dr. Zelenka. As she sipped her tea, she studied the enigma that was her military commander.

She had chosen Colonel Sumner from a list provided by General O'Neill because the man had experience working with civilian leadership during nation building efforts that rose out of the rubble of Bosnia and Serbia. He was a known quantity, and between his lack of interest in politics and his reverence for chain of command, he was controllable. She had proved that when she had convinced Sumner to bring John Sheppard along as his second.

When he had first died, Elizabeth had thought John would be equally easy to control, if not more so. She ordered him to stand down until he had a better rescue plan, and he did. During those first weeks, he had desperately wanted to protect Teyla from the investigation into their possible traitor, and yet he'd allowed Gibbs and DiNozzo to question her. True, he'd paced outside the space DiNozzo had claimed for his NCIS offices, but he hadn't interfered.

But then again, he had not only disobeyed her order during the nanovirus outbreak, but he'd ordered Bates to disregard her, and he had. That stung.

Elizabeth had assumed that John had learned his lesson and would be more amendable to her leadership after his decision had turned out to be wrong, but now she wondered if he didn't have political games of his own. He had brought up the idea of hiring Pegasus natives to use as technicians, an idea she had originally put forward only to have John and Bates insist that the security risks were too great. At the time, she hadn't even pressed her position because she feared they were right. A good leader knew when to listen to others--and when others had better training in recognizing security risks, a leader who ignored them could end up dead.

However, John had resurrected the idea, and then he hadn't come home with three or four technicians along with their immediate families. No. He'd brought home a huge Hoff delegation with the power to shift the internal politics of the city.

She couldn't decide if he was playing a political game, attempting to wrest power from her and the IOC, or if he was simply that clueless about the political games people played. At first, she'd been furious, certain that he had played her. However, he then ignored all those potential supporters, leaving Rodney to train the workers and a host of others to integrate the families. Atlantis now had a school with three instructional levels, and multiple hydroponic farms running. The military contingent did not have time to run the labor-intensive equipment, but the civilians wanted jobs where they could contribute to their adopted city. If those jobs happened to be dirty and require a lot of work, they didn't even mind.

The first time Elizabeth had seen a child running around the mess hall telling everyone about a music performance that night, Elizabeth had realized that they had their first town crier, and Atlantis had reached the status of a town.

The IOC would not be pleased. Honestly, Elizabeth had no idea whether the military would be pleased or not. On the one hand, the city had a much better infrastructure to support the Earth-based military. On the other, O'Neill was a good deal more observant than many military men, and he would likely recognize the competing power bases that were developing on the city. The fact that the Genii had now asked for access to a single lab for their atomic experiments threatened to destabilize the power structures even more.

And that brought her back to her original subject. She sipped her tea and watched as John grew bored and wandered over to give Grodin a hard time. Now she knew he was harassing the man just because of Grodin's body language. The man had been raised in a very proper home, and he didn't quite seem to know how to handle Sheppard's leadership style. How much of their recent changes were simple quirks of luck and a capricious universe and how many of these sudden changes could be attributed to some political machinations of John Sheppard?

She'd heard the Athosians and Dagans whisper about John's potential as a de-ascended ancestor. Elizabeth had even brought it up with John, prodding around the subject gently in order to test whether John was trying to set himself up as a false god. He would not be the first SGC employee to do so.

However his reaction had been embarrassment and a quick change of subject. More tellingly, he avoided the Dagans with an almost religious ferver. Considering they sought him out with the same passion, it made for an amusing dance carried out through the corridors of Atlantis. Elizabeth refused to believe that John could deceive her so well that he could appear utterly innocent while he was plotting to take over political leadership of the city.

She sipped her tea and closed her eyes as she tried to imagine the powerlines and threads of alliance that ran through the city. Rodney certainly lay near most of the levers of power. The Hoff were enamored of the irascible man. Even the close approach of the Wraith ships failed to cause any alarm because they had a near messianic worship of him. In twenty-four hours, they would be officially under siege, and other than an afternoon meeting that John had irreverently labeled "Creative Approaches for Kicking Wraith Ass in Science Fiction Style" in the official calendar, a person could never tell that this was a city about to be under attack. A big part of that was the Hoff children still playing on terraces and women gossiping in halls, completely unconcerned. That was a direct result of their faith in Rodney.

Certainly the Hoff still held Dr. Beckett in high regard for his skills as a geneticist, but Carson had distanced himself from the Hoff, and they felt that censure. Rodney, on the other hand, apparently adored them in his cranky and generally unappreciative way. They did the work he didn't have time for, and they never tried to argue with him.

Still, Elizabeth had trouble believing that the shifting power was Rodney's work. He was amusingly unaware of how others saw him. While it was true that most people commented on Rodney's lack of social skills or inability to recognize when people were upset with him, it was equally true that he failed to take note of those who seemed to adore him or even flirt.

Take one John Sheppard, for example. Rodney never seemed to notice the sexual undertones of many of the jokes he shared with John, but then Elizabeth wasn't sure if John was honestly flirting or simply enjoying the ability to flirt shamelessly without ever getting caught. Teyla certainly found their antics amusing.

Teyla was another that Elizabeth sometimes wondered about. However, her strongest power base were the Athosians, and they had only one extended Athosian family on Atlantis--a family of cloth makers and tailors whose extended family members ran a hydroponic garden. If Teyla wanted to strengthen her hand, she would bring Athosians here, not Hoff. Besides, the woman was a clever enough leader to understand how her absence strengthened Holling's position, so Elizabeth suspected that Teyla had some good reason for leaving the reins of power with another.

Gibbs and Samas could be dismissed almost as easily. Certainly the goa'uld played their power games with the best, but Elizabeth had seen Samas separate and swim away, and Gibbs was not the sort of man to condone treason. If Samas were plotting, then Gibbs would have said something, and anything short of a full coup that led to expedition members worshipping Samas as their God would fail to satisfy a goa'uld, so Elizabeth was inclined to believe the assessments of O'Neill and Jackson who said that the igigi were different.

Moreover, any attempt on the part of Samas or Gibbs to grab for power would be met with great hostility from the SGC soldiers who lost friends and team members to the goa'uld. They would never follow Samas over her, although Samas and Gibbs had made great strides in being accepted. DiNozzo had helped that.

Elizabeth dismissed DiNozzo even more quickly than she dismissed Samas. Gibbs had the covert training to take action. Samas might have the instinct even if he didn't have the opportunity, but DiNozzo was the ultimate team player. He never played a sport that didn't rely on working with a team. Every job he had put him with a partner or in a unit. He followed Gibbs with a devotion that had made Kate raise her eyebrows and use words like codependent.

Elizabeth could understand DiNozzo, though. He was no danger, and if he felt threatened, he would be a blunt object swinging in the dark. On a base like Atlantis, DiNozzo was no threat. However, he did have friends. A lot of them.

Like Radek Zelenka. Perhaps he was the hand behind these recent shifts in power. She had spent a lot of time pondering whether to have Rodney or Radek as her chief scientist. In many ways, Radek was the more logical choice. He had more patience with others. He was more conscientious with his reports. People liked him, and a science division under Radek would operate more smoothly.

However, he would achieve that by making small sacrifices and concessions. Projects that were clearly stupid would not be openly called stupid and mocked into a full retreat. And Radek had the sort of political maneuverability that made Elizabeth hyperaware of his actions. She suspected that he had cornered the black market early. Others might have missed the importance of trade items, but she suspected that Zelenka had started hoarding early, and she knew he controlled the bootleg vodka that could be found anywhere a group got together.

Three times she had asked DiNozzo to address the black market alcohol, and three times he had tracked the still down. However, each time the still and the room where it had been set up were suspiciously clean of any evidence--no fingerprints or hairs or slightest trace of their distiller. Elizabeth had gotten the message. Radek was part of DiNozzo's team, and so Tony would follow orders, but he would never truly turn on a team mate. DiNozzo was blunt.

Radek was not. Radek was the good cop to Rodney's bad cop in the labs. She had not anticipated that they would fall into such an easy co-parenting relationship. With his history of surviving overwhelming hardship, Radak had the motivation to grab power. Those denied power often sought it in order to make their own position more secure. And with alcohol, she had no doubt that he either controlled or was a major player in the other black market currencies: eggs, chocolate and coffee. Others might discount such power, but Elizabeth had seen leaders rise on far less.

His relationship with an Athosian woman also gave him ties to that community that were far stronger than most of the expedition's.

Elizabeth suddenly found her tea cup empty. The Genii request for use of a lab still sat on her laptop, and she had still not made any decision.

Refusing it could set up an adversarial position from which the two groups could not recover. Elizabeth was diplomat enough to recognize that the Genii had a legitimate claim to the city, even if she was passionate enough that she would do anything to keep them from taking it. If she accepted a science team, she might be playing into the hand of whoever had orchestrated these events. The Dagans, the Hoff, several young people from the planet where they had once killed themselves at twenty-five, and now Genii. Atlantis was in danger of looking more like the United Nations than a scientific expedition.

And that was the problem.

If the IOC even suspected that the power was shifting, they would move in with every political weapon in their arsenal armed and ready. They were a force to be reckoned with.

If the military sent someone like Colonel Caldwell who was more political savvy than the late Sumner, he was likely to try and take power before the IOC or Pegasus natives could establish a firm hold.

The power lines were becoming dangerously crossed, and not even Elizabeth could predict what might happen. She only knew that there were far too many serious power players in a very small space. One wrong move and Atlantis was going to implode without any help from the Wraith, and she refused to let that happen.

If someone was stirring the waters from underneath, she simply had to keep the boat afloat until she could figure out where the power lines lay. She was good at that. More, she was not going to be the leader who sank Atlantis for the last time. If someone wanted to play games, she was the master of gamesmanship. She would win.

Rodney stood watching the monitor, the computer tracking the Wraith John was piloting, even in the swarm of other darts that were returning to the hive ship. After what Tony unfortunately described as the Death Star maneuver, the Wraith had started to keep their dart bay doors closed unless they had incoming darts. Having a cloaked jumper shoot lasers through the open door right before lobbing a Genii nuclear bomb through the opening tended to make the Wraith a little paranoid.

The swarm got closer to the last remaining hive, and Rodney held his breath. Off to the side, Radek was softly mumbling in Czech. Tony didn't have a single idiotic comment, and stress normally made him more inane than usual, although Rodney suspected that John was right that Tony did it more to lighten the mood and help other than out of any need to look stupid.

Grodin spoke up. "Maneuvers should begin in five, four, three, two, one..."

Clutching the side of the console, Rodney watched the screen, watched as John's dart pulled away from the others in painful slow motion. Hopefully he had beamed his bomb right into the open dart bay doors.

Ladon Radim then started his own countdown. "It will go off in three... two... one."

The sensors all went blank as the nuclear weapon detonated. Rodney started praying. Well, if one could call it prayer when he sent the words up to some spirit of physics that made the universe logical. "Let the shield hold, let the shield hold, let the shield hold," Rodney muttered. It occurred to him that perhaps that is what Radek had been saying earlier.

One at a time, sensors started coming back online. At first, they only had the crudest of readings. Hive two had died slowly, the Genii bomb doing massive internal damage, but the hive itself staying together long enough for ships to pass between the two remaining hives. Survivors. This time, the goal was no survivors. Except John.

"We have confirmation. It's totally destroyed!" Ladon shouted. "We killed the hive."

"Well of course we destroyed the hive. That's the whole point of adding naquadah to a nuclear bomb," Rodney snapped. "Do we have a reading on John's dart? The other darts should be either destroyed or disabled by the nuclear fallout, but the modified shield should have protected John. Should. Never had so much of Rodney's life hung on a single word: should.

"The shield will hold," Samas said calmly. Right. He could be calm. He'd already lost like a couple of thousand friends. Rodney had three. Three. And one third of his entire friend group had just flown a nuclear weapon down the throat of the Wraith.

"I'm sure the major will be fine," Ladon said, which might have been kind only he immediately asked, "Do we have the readings on the size of the blast? Is anything coming in from sensors over there?"

"Yes, yes," Radek said, his voice distant as he searched the scanners for something more important that the calculations on the payload capacity of a naquadah enhanced Genii bomb. “There. One dart, returning on a course to take him straight to the hole in the shield.”

Rodney didn’t wait for anything else. He started running for the transporter.

“Rodney, wait, we don’t know if it’s him,” Elizabeth called after him, but Rodney didn’t even slow down. Only one person knew where he and Radek had left that shield opening, and that was one wild-haired major with a death wish and more luck than a fucking leprechaun.

No one else reached the transporter before Rodney, and he came out in a well-guarded corridor. Some Marine tried to talk to him. “Sir, do you need—”

“No, no, no,” Rodney snapped as he kept running. He turned the corner and found himself in the large open air landing bay where they stored the various dart pieces they’d gathered during their month-long siege. Dart pieces were scattered across the floor, and six mostly in-tact machines sat near the back. But Rodney only paid attention to the one dart that was powering down near the open doors.

The canopy opened, and John practically leaped out of the pilot’s seat.

“Rodney, did you see it? Did you see the whole ship go up?” John ran to Rodney and threw his arms around him. Rodney hugged back, too surprised and overjoyed and frankly drunk on relief to make objections about personal space. Then John’s lips were on his, pressing against Rodney in ways that made Rodney’s body twitch to life.

“God. I’m sorry.” Sheppard backed away.

“You’re more drunk on adrenaline than I am,” Rodney said with an uneasy laugh. “You better come down off that high before you see someone you actually like.”

“What?” John frowned.

“Yes, yes,” Rodney handwaved the whole thing away. “Did your radiation meter go off? Are you dying slowly right now? Do we need to go see Carson?”

“The shield held, Rodney. I’m fine. The Wraith, on the other hand, are definitely not fine.”

Rodney tried to figure out how to get back to that place of utter joy—that moment of pre-kiss happiness, but all he could feel was confused. A rush of footsteps rushing toward them saved him from having to come up with any response. Ford reached them first. With a whoop he grabbed his commanding officer and swung him around. John’s eyes got huge and he braced himself on Ford’s shoulders looking like he was about to birth kittens. Then DiNozzo grabbed them both, turning it into a group hug before he hip checked Ford to the side.

“Seriously, you get all the cool jobs. Next time, I get to blow up space vampires,” Tony said. Gibbs and Samas looked unimpressed with that statement, but he shouldn’t worry. Elizabeth and John had been firm about not sending a civilian out to pilot a military mission.

John laughed. And then he kept laughing. The sound spread and as more people crowded into the open-air landing bay. The third hive ship was gone. They’d won. As that realization truly sunk in, Rodney started laughing too. They’d won. They’d done it.

Ladon stood at the edge of the crowd, smiling even if he wasn’t fully joining with the rest of them. Rodney understood what it felt like to be sitting in the middle of a group of people who didn’t want you there. Samas was right… Ladon deserved some respect. Rodney made eye contact with him and nodded. After all, it was the Genii’s bomb. Ladon’s eyes got large, but then he nodded back, his smile wider. Rodney had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

Tony appeared right in front of him, slapping him on the arm. “Good job McWraith-Killer.” Tony glanced over at Ladon before looking back at Rodney. “Really good job, Rod.” With his boyish grin in place, Tony started winding through the crowd toward Ladon. Then someone pressed a cup into Rodney’s hand and he realized that someone had broken out the vodka. Well, they’d all earned it today. Rodney let himself get swept along with the impromptu party.

 

Rodney was a little tipsy when he finally started back toward his quarters to lie down. For nearly an hour, he’d stood on the pier outside the dart bay and stared up at a sky that was blue. No Wraith weapons fire blossomed red and orange against the shield. It was the most beautiful sight he’d seen in too damn long. However, now his neck hurt and he felt a little nauseous from too much vodka and too many sweets. Apparently every Pegasus native in the city had prepared treats to celebrate the moment.

Fatigue was the only explanation for his total lack of awareness. He was in his room and almost to his bathroom door before it occurred to him that the hero of the day was sitting on his bed. Rodney stopped and turned all the way around to double check his observation, but John was in fact there. “Sheppard?” Rodney asked.

John gave him a huge boyish grin. Rodney was starting to think that boyish charm was naturally embedded with the ATA gene. Even Carson could get that same charm going when he wanted to. “We won,” John said. Rodney looked closer, and John’s body was tense, even if he was smiling.

“If you’re worked up over that kiss, don’t be,” Rodney said, letting John off the hook. “Trust me, I understand how the American military works.”

John lost his smile. “What?”

“Oh, please. Your uptight, moralistic rules are not difficult to understand, and the moronic lengths that soldiers will go to in order to make sure that they never have to deal with any perceived homosexuality is rather legendary. They’ll be slow to follow orders or provide backup, all of which is a way of punishing you for having a strange, passing need to kiss me. Trust me, I am not going to tell anyone, not even to share the humor in it.”

“But… what?” John frowned.

After crossing the room, Rodney snapped his fingers in John’s face. “Keep up. I won’t tell. Now you can go sleep in peace.”

“Do you really think that my Marines are that cold blooded?” John demanded.

“Yes?”

John’s mouth fell open.

“Oh come on. They’re Marines. They have brains the size of walnuts. You can’t ask them to overcome the programming of a homophobic or rather homomisia because American culture hates homosexuality far more than it fears it.”

“They don’t hate Gibbs.”

“He doesn’t sleep with Tony. Samas does.” Rodney rolled his eyes. It horrified him the way some people could not keep the two separate. Samas had a coldly logical mind that Rodney appreciated and a way of turning human behavior into a series of conditional statements that even Rodney could understand. Gibbs, on the other hand, was a classic Marine with the personality of a common turnip.

John narrowed his eyes. “If you think that, you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for. Samas is the one who chases Tony. Gibbs is the one who sits with a cup of tea and watches Tony with a small smile on his face. Trust me, the Marines are well aware that both Gibbs and Samas love Tony.”

“What?” Rodney took a step back. “But they like Gibbs.”

“They do,” John agreed. “The gunny is one hell of a Marine. If he loves a man, they don’t care. They only care if he can teach them how to kick Wraith ass.” Shaking his head, John leaned back, his hands propped on the bed behind him. “Rodney, the SGC sent men who had few family ties—no wives or children. Yeah, lots are straight, but the SGC choosing the way they did guaranteed that Atlantis has a whole lot of people not telling, and I spend even more time not asking. Anyone who hated gays would have looked at the roster and withdrawn his offer to volunteer.”

“Really?” Rodney frowned, and then the embarrassment hit him. He hated being wrong. The shame of it always made him so damn angry. “Fine, whatever, how was I supposed to know? Your whole military system makes no sense.”

John shrugged and gave Rodney a crooked grin. “That would be why I keep getting in trouble for telling them to fuck off. If it weren’t for my gene, McMurdo would have been the ass-end of my career. I would have gotten a few more years in, and then the Air Force would have politely invited me to get lost and never come back again. Maybe not so politely.”

“Okay, so you aren’t here to make sure I don’t talk. Why are you here? You should be out there celebrating with the locals.”

John cringed. “I don’t wanna,” he whined dramatically. Rodney rolled his eyes. “No, seriously, I don’t want to. They’re all worked up about how I came back in human form a second time just to finish the job. I hate this de-ascended crap.”

“I would have more sympathy if it weren’t true,” Rodney said. “Those who de-ascend can suck it up and deal with it when the rest of us sometimes get a little weird about it.”

“Not you too.” John slumped.

“I work with facts, Major. Facts. Give me another explanation for why you could sit in a time machine and know how to use it within two minutes.”

“I have the gene.”

“Tony worked for three weeks at that projector without being able to get it to do anything other than glow, and you touched it and knew how to run it forwards, backwards, and rewrite the database.”

“I’m better with the gene.” John was getting cranky.

“Fine, fine. Whatever. Now, why are you here?” Rodney suddenly felt too tired to even keep his eyes open. “And make it fast. You’re on my bed and I haven’t slept for three days.”

“We need to talk about the kiss.”

“I understand the concept of adrenaline, major. I am not under any delusions that you would normally grab me and kiss me.”

“No, you’re under the delusion I don’t like you.” John’s voice was sharp now, and Rodney grabbed his desk chair and sat down. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be fast.

“Yes, you like me fine. I get it. Hurry up the lecture.”

John threw his hands in the air before he jumped to his feet. The sudden burst of adrenaline that immediately hit Rodney’s system was enough to wake him up. “Why do you always try and tell me how I feel?”

“Because you can’t talk about feelings. You’re emotionally and verbally constipated, and I don’t have time to wait for you to stutter out three significant words. Major, I am not offended or upset or under any delusions.”

“You are!” John snapped. “God damn it, why are you so infuriatingly hard to talk to?”

“Because I’m me. And what do you mean ‘I am’? I am what?”

“Delusional.” John dropped back down and ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you really think I run around kissing people just because a mission went really fucking awesome?”

Rodney crossed his arms and refused to answer. They were not on safe territory here, and whatever he said, he was guaranteed to be completely wrong in a way that would leave him emotionally scarred and permanently humiliated.

“Rodney, I kissed you because you’re you.”

“Because I’m me?”

John gave him a truly withering look. “Yes. Because you’re you. Because I like snarky and smart. Because I like loyal and I like mouthy and I really like people who build me really big bombs.”

“So go kiss Ladon.”

John stood up slowly. “Rodney, don’t take this the wrong way because I still like you, but sometimes I really want to kill you.”

Rodney snorted. “You and everyone else.”

“I really hope no one else likes you the way I do because it’s not pretty when I get jealous. Now, your big brain clearly needs to process some information, and I need to go away before I give in to my desire to choke you.” He turned his back and headed for the door. When he was standing in the open doorway, Rodney called out.

“John?”

John didn’t turn around.

“You like me?”

At least that made him look over his shoulder. “Yeah, Rodney. I do. Goodnight.”

Rodney wanted to say something, to restart the whole conversation, but then John was gone, and Rodney was left sitting alone in his room, and suddenly he wasn’t tired at all.

11

Rodney shifted, still not sure how to handle Sheppard's recent revelation. Part of him still expected John to show up and pass it off as a joke. Instead, Sheppard had walked into their meeting, given Rodney a sly smile and slid into the chair next to him. "So, did your big brain manage to finish processing all the data last night?" he teased.

By the time Rodney came up with an answer, Elizabeth was walking through the door. "Major Sheppard, I know I've said this a few times before, but congratulations on an excellent job."

John practically preened at the praise. "It's not everyone who can claim to have single-handedly blown up three Wraith hives."

"Excuse me?" Rodney demanded. "The entire science department had something to do with it."

"I fired the drones."

"Radek and I got the system up and running."

John made a dismissive noise. "I flew the jumper that took out hive number two."

"Radek and I came up with the cloak enhancements that let you fire without uncloaking, and the whole plan was Tony's stupid idea."

"I flew the dart, and I came up with the idea to beam the nuclear bomb into the interior on hive three," John said smugly.

"And the Genii built the bomb, I added the naquedah, Radek and I adapted the shields to interface with Wraith tech, and Samas did the coding work required to get it all to work together." Rodney could feel his anger rising, and suddenly he noticed that Sheppard was grinning at him. He frowned and glanced over to see Elizabeth was smiling too.

"And you were just as amazing, Rodney, you and the entire science department," Elizabeth offered. She sat at the head of the table and opened her laptop. "I have put in paperwork to have both of you receive commendations for your outstanding work."

"You're right. We did do good work," Rodney said. That's what he liked about Atlantis--people finally acknowledged his brilliance instead of constantly shuffling him to the side just because he was bad with people. "I want to talk about rearranging the science department so we can do more good work."

Elizabeth's lips thinned a little, so she clearly hadn't liked his proposal. Sheppard looked confused, though. "Rearrange what?" he asked suspiciously. His body language suddenly had all those odd angles that usually meant he was eyeing the natives and considering exit strategies. What was his problem?

"We have a lot of darts, and I want to put a priority on reverse engineering them. They’re fast and maneuverable, and if we can get a good handle on the beaming technology, that could be a significant advantage.”

Elizabeth tapped her fingers. “Rodney has requested Samas’ full attention,” she said.

Sheppard straightened up. “Wait. You want to have Samas all the time? What about Gibbs?”

“It would mean pulling the gunnery sergeant off training and mission rotation,” Elizabeth said, and from her expression she wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

Rodney threw his hands up in the air. “Oh come on. You have lots of little Marines. I only have one Samas, and he can reverse engineer faster than anyone else in the science department.”

“Put Zelenka on the project.”

“Zelenka is human, not onac,” Rodney snapped. They were being utterly unreasonable.

“Meaning?” Sheppard demanded.

“Meaning onac are designed to remember, not creatively think around problems. If you want technology reverse engineered or information memorized, then onac can do it better than humans. They don’t have silly things like emotions or artistic abilities shoved in there with the logic. I need Samas.”

Sheppard pressed his lips together and Rodney wondered if he was intentionally imitating Elizabeth’s expression. “You’re asking the gunny to give up his life. He would be stuck in there all day every day as you tried to figure out Wraith technology.”

Rodney felt a twinge of guilt at that, but it wasn’t like there were a ton of hosts lining up to give Gibbs a break. Besides, Rodney wasn’t sure Samas would go into another host. For a creature without human emotion, he was very fond of Gibbs. “You’re the one who always says the Marines are here to support the scientific expedition.”

“Support, not get enslaved by.”

Rodney gave Sheppard a blistering look. “Excuse me?”

“You can’t just demand that Gibbs give up his life.”

“Oh, you mean like the way Samas joined with Gibbs in 1991, and never demanded anything except time out to go swimming in the ocean? He’s a genius, and he was stuck inside Gibbs while the man solved crimes and married women.”

“I’ve read the reports.” Sheppard leaned closer. “And I know that Samas built a listening station behind a hidden door in Gibbs’ basement. So clearly he wasn’t locked up all the time.”

“And Gibbs won’t be either.” Rodney’s frustration threatened to overwhelm him, and part of him wanted to throw up his hands and storm out, but he needed this. He needed Samas. “Look, this is important enough that I do want Radek on it full-time. I’d be taking over his duties overseeing the Hoff, but this is a chance to develop new weapons. Samas and I talked, and we agreed that the Wraith are adapting to strategies quickly enough that we’re going to need new weapons all the time. That’s where the Ancients went wrong. They weren’t creative enough, and we can’t keep depending on Tony’s endless store of implausible movie plots for battle plans.”

“I don’t know. It worked well last time.”

“Yes, and now we have fifteen hives headed this way. No doubt you want me to use an Apple laptop and upload a virus.”

Sheppard’s face lit up. “Could you?” he asked with far too much enthusiasm for any sane man.

Rodney gave him a look that had sent interns running away in tears. “No.”

“Well, now you’re just being mean,” he teased as he put on a mock-pout.

Rodney turned to Elizabeth. “We need to move on this technology now. The Hoff can keep the city running, but I want Radek and Samas heading this up with at least a half-dozen members of the hard sciences on the team. The rest of us can pick up the slack in the science department, and if Major Slacker can pick up the slack one the military side, we might have a chance to reverse engineer something before it’s too late.” Rodney ignored Sheppard’s indignant “Hey!” at the slacker comment.

“Have you spoken to Gibbs about this?” Elizabeth asked.

“He grunted something about the good of the expedition,” Rodney said. Truthfully, Gibbs made him uncomfortable as hell. If he were an onac and had to share a body with someone in order to have hands, Gibbs would not be high on his list of candidates. Rodney glanced over toward Sheppard, wondering what he’d find if he were an onac and he climbed in under all that hair. Clearly Sheppard had horrible taste in men, that’s for sure. Rodney couldn’t even remember the last person to pursue him.

Sheppard gave him an odd look, and when Rodney kept staring, he mouthed the word “What?”

Rodney shook himself free of his thoughts, and focused on Elizabeth who had his proposed schedule up on her computer. “This would require some long shifts, Rodney.”

“Hives. Fifteen hives. Have I mentioned that?”

“Yes, I think you might have,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “John, we are going to have to get creative. The Daedalus isn’t due for a few weeks yet, and I think the Genii are going to run out of nuclear bombs.”

“I knew we should have packed a few of our own.”

“Well, we didn’t. Ladon has one more on Atlantis, but he has not been forthcoming about what they might have back on their homeworld.”

“Homeworlds,” Rodney corrected her.

Elizabeth looked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Talk to Tony. Apparently Ladon told him the Genii used to be an empire. Or they were a federation that got destroyed by the Wraith and then they were an empire that got destroyed by the Wraith. The Genii are the Energizer bunnies of the Pegasus galaxy.”

Apparently he had shocked Elizabeth. Her mouth literally hung open, which wasn’t usual for her.

Rodney shrugged. “The people on Manaria used to be part of the empire, which is why they were so quick to give the Genii information.” Once Tony had told him that, a whole lot of things made more sense.

“And Ladon told Tony this?” Elizabeth asked.

“Tony put on that stupid playboy act of his. Why do people fall for that charm of his?”

“I don’t claim to know, but I will talk to Tony,” Elizabeth said. “John, did you know about this?”

“No.” John frowned. “Maybe I should start making a habit out of having a beer or two with DiNozzo.”

Rodney snorted. “Please. You’re about as subtle as a nuclear bomb. If you want to know something, ask. Don’t play games you can’t win.”

“Who says I can’t win them?” Sheppard actually looked hurt.

“Really? You read people about as well as you can defy gravity. The man made his living out of dealing with people and getting confessions out of them. Give it up. You may be able to outfly Tony, but you’ll never outtalk him.”

“Be that as it may,” Elizabeth said loudly, interrupting their argument, “I will speak to Tony, so there’s no need for anyone to do anything else. Rodney, how important is this Wraith project?”

Rodney raised his chin and tried to brace himself for the potential that he was about to get shot down again. “As important as the ZPM project.”

Elizabeth gave a weary sigh. “I’ll speak to Gibbs, but if he agrees to turn his time over to Samas, I’m inclined to grant a full transfer over to science department.”

Sheppard slumped in his chair. “Well, my Marines will be less bruised, but in the long run, that might not be the best thing.”

“Hopefully this is just temporary. The Daedalus will be here in a few weeks, and assuming that we can find a way to deal with these hives, they’ll have supplies and personnel. Now, let’s talk about the Athosians who have moved into the city. How are they doing with the new accommodations?”

“We opened new greenhouses, and they have planted a number of quick growing crops to make sure they don’t overtax our food supply. Several went out in jumpers this morning to harvest local grasses to feed the alpaca,” Rodney reported. He didn’t know why he was supposed to keep track of this. There were so many civilians in the city that Elizabeth really needed to have Teyla in these meetings because Rodney did not have time to fill his head with these things that didn’t matter. Yes, the greenhouses fell under botany, but it wasn’t like botany was a real science.

From there the meeting moved on to the daily requirements of running a city. Repair schedules were worked out. The Hoff had actually run out of things to fix in the areas they were using, so some were working on manufacturing equipment and some were starting to fix up areas marked residential by the initial exploratory teams. Rodney was twitching with irritation with how much time they’d wasted before Elizabeth finally called the meeting to an end.

“I believe that’s all gentlemen. Let’s make sure we’re ready before the next wave of hive ships knocks on the door.”

Rodney gathered up his notes and headed for the transport, Sheppard close on his heels. When Sheppard just followed, Rodney hit the level for the labs and tried to ignoring the itching need to say something.

“So, ready to talk?” Sheppard asked as they stepped out into an empty section.

“This is not a good idea,” Rodney said firmly. He raised his chin and waited for the reaction.

Sheppard just ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, the Daedalus has me a little freaked out, too.”

“The… what?” Some days Rodney wondered if John was speaking the same language as the rest of them.

John glanced both ways down the corridor before he answered. “The Daedalus. You know, when they show up, they’re going to have a new military commander. I’m going to be back to second in command light switch. If I can’t make our schedules, it might be hard.”

“What are you talking about?” Rodney demanded. He could debate the applications of the Friedmann equations for modeling the universe, but he couldn’t track the logic of one John Sheppard.

“Being together on a base is difficult. If I’m the commanding officer, it’s easier to make sure we have time scheduled together in an area where we can’t be tracked or monitored. But if I have a CO, we’re going to have to dance around him.” Sheppard grimaced.

Understanding Sheppard was like trying to explain scalar curvature to a gibbon monkey. “If we were going to do this, I wouldn’t care whether you were the CO or not. I’m a scientist. Do you have any idea what I can do with sensors? I can have the city computers register us in our rooms all night while we hotwire a jumper without anyone knowing.”

John’s eyes lit up. “Really.”

Rodney made a mental note to stop giving Sheppard stupid ideas. “That’s not my problem.”

It took Sheppard a half second to realize what Rodney meant. That wasn’t his problem because something else was. Rodney could almost watch the emotional guards go up, and Rodney sighed because he hadn’t meant to hurt his friend. “Look, how can we be together when we can’t be in the same room without fighting? You tried to keep Samas away from me.”

“You did take Gibbs away from me. He’s my Marine.” Sheppard had his pout going again.

“Samas is my best coder. And this is what I mean. We fight. How can we…” Rodney waved his hand because honestly he didn’t even understand what John had on offer here. “How can we when we don’t agree most of the time?”

“We’ll work it out.”

“Really? Have you seen a relationship go bad, Major? Have you seen what happens when people who used to care for each other start fighting about everything?” Rodney could feel his stomach churn. He had not meant to open this can of worms.

“Rodney.” John stopped and sighed. “Rodney, we disagree. We don’t actually fight. Do you walk out of that meeting resenting me or wanting to avoid me?”

“What? No.”

“Then we aren’t fighting. Sure, we disagree. My job is to advocate for the military. Your job is to advocate for the sciences. I’m pretty sure our job descriptions require us to disagree, but that doesn’t describe our relationship outside of work.” John reached out and ran his thumb along Rodney’s cheek. A shiver travelled up Rodney’s spike, and John smiled. “You see? You poached my gunny, and we can still stand here like this.”

Rodney pressed his lips together, the corners turning down in what he knew was a very unpleasant expression.

“I take it that your big brain is still working on this then?” John let his fingers curl around Rodney’s neck and rest there for a second before he pulled his hand back.

“I don’t handle change well.”

Weirdly, John grinned. “Good. Then once we work this out, you won’t like the idea of walking away. People walk away from me too easily, Rodney. I’d rather have a rough path getting there than an easy route in or out of this relationship.”

“Relationship?” Rodney’s mouth was painfully dry. It was like his tongue was trying to stick to the inside of his mouth. “Is that what you want? Not fuck buddies?” At least Rodney had some experience with the latter.

“No, I definitely don’t want a fuck buddy.” John shoved his hands in his pockets, which is why I’ll wait.”

“Until after the Daedalus comes?” Rodney asked.

John looked at him and gave him a slow smile. “Until you’re ready for change. Now, if you’re going to steal my gunny, I want to go and hear it from him that he’s okay with you being greedy. If I even suspect that he’s unhappy, I’m going to go back and argue with Elizabeth until she gives in or throws me out of her office, and the whole time I will still want a relationship with you.”

Rodney grunted. “Steal Samas, and I might not want one with you.”

John grinned. He really was a very odd man. Unfortunately, Rodney’s brain was already starting to consider all the possibilities, and Rodney was having a very hard time keeping in mind that this was almost guaranteed to blow up in his face. Relationships usually did.

John was at lunch when Elizabeth's call came over the radio. "John, you need to get up here now." The tone made John drop his half eaten muffin onto his plate before dashing for the transporter. Something was wrong. Well, something other than fifteen new hive ships headed their way. Maybe they'd made a larger than expected hyperspace jump. John wondered why Elizabeth wasn't putting any announcements over the general comm.

He came out on the command level of the tower, and Rodney was already there, bent over the controls and looking grim.

"What is it?"

“The Daedalus,” Rodney snapped.

All the anxiety rushed out of John. “Okay,” he said slowly, “but we already knew they were coming. Right?”

Rodney swung his chair around and gave John a particularly scornful look. That just seemed uncalled for. “Did you expect them in the next fifteen minutes?” Rodney demanded.

“What?” John walked over to the console and looked over Rodney’s shoulder. “How?”

“Clearly they’ve been running silent, and we’ve had our sensors calibrated to track the hives. Right now, they’re just coming out from behind the sun, so it looks like they charted a course that would let them get as close as possible before we saw them, and they’re pretty damn close.” Rodney hunched his shoulders, so John was guessing he felt guilty about that. It was amazing how Rodney could feel guilty about things that weren’t his fault and then turn around and not even notice that he’d verbally eviscerated someone who really didn’t deserve it. Well, that was part of Rodney’s charm, and honestly, John had other things to worry about right now.

“Have they contacted us?” John looked over at Elizabeth as she came out of her office.

She had a grim expression when she said, “No.”

John was officially confused. “Okay, have we hailed them? Maybe they have some damage.”

“None that I can see,” Rodney said, his voice low.

“John.” Elizabeth stopped and sighed. “We are an independent base with the ability to manufacture food and basic necessities, a fully charged ZPM, and the weaponry to destroy three hive ships. Given that other SGC teams have gone native and broken away from the program with far fewer resources, my guess is that they’re worried about whether we’re going to be willing to accept more direct guidance from Earth.”

John turned toward her. “You have got to be kidding.”

“You haven’t been with the program long enough to know where all the bodies are buried, John. The first few months the program was in operation, a captain named Jonas Hanson set himself up as a god and took control of a planet, forcing the natives to worship him. They tightened psychological testing, but since then, there have been two other confirmed cases, and three suspected cases, of servicemen and women going native. Luckily, none of them tried to take over another planet, but I’m sure that’s what the SGC is worried about.”

“They think we’re traitors?” John had never gotten sterling performance reviews, but he’d also never had a superior officer suspect him of betraying his country—hell of betraying his world.

“No, I’m sure they’re just taking precautions until they can get a feel for the politics here,” Elizabeth said in a soothing voice.

Rodney started to mutter, but other than a general sense of unhappiness, John couldn’t actually pick up the words.

“Do we even know who’s on board?” John asked. He was starting to get a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Three of the five officers died within the first week, and looking at that fact through the SGC’s eyes with their history of officers going rogue gave John a whole new appreciation for how ugly this might get. John hadn’t been vetted. He hadn’t been put through a gauntlet of psychological tests because Sumner was supposed to be here to babysit him. It wasn’t Elizabeth they were worried about.

And from the way Rodney hunched over his console, even he knew it. Damn it. Why did John never see these things coming?

He touched his comm. “Sheppard to all military personnel. The new commander will be here in ten minutes. You have eight minutes to get your asses presentable and report to either the gate room or the main training room, whichever one you can get to faster. Those on guard duty, stay sharp, you may have surprise inspections coming your way. And someone hide the vodka.”

Elizabeth had her lips pressed together, but she didn’t comment. “Would an SGC commander want to see Gibbs in a formal welcome?” John was starting to understand that he didn’t know his own people as well as he knew the Athosians and their value for respect or the Dagans and their history or even the Genii and their horrifically fatalistic attitudes.

“Probably not,” she admitted.

John touched his comm again. “Sheppard to Samas.”

“Samas here.”

“Samas, I need to borrow Gibbs for a few minutes.”

“Of course,” he said, always calm. After five thousand years, he could afford to be calm. The next voice was gruffer, and John imagined he could hear a little more stress. “Sir?”

“I need you to get down to my office and make it look presentable. You have seven minutes before you need to be clear.”

“Yes, sir.” John could already hear Gibbs footsteps as he ran. He turned his comm off. “This is not how I was expecting this to go,” John complained as the first of his people rushed into the room, transporter doors now sliding open and closed like clockwork, two or three more people arriving each time.

“I rather thought we would have more time to prepare,” Elizabeth agreed. “I’ve spoken to Teyla and Vish and some of the others, but I don’t feel I’ve had a chance to truly prepare them for Earth culture.”

John looked at her. “Vish?”

“The high priest of Dagas.”

“The one who’s always stalking me?”

“He is trying to offer presents, but apparently Teyla informed him that you don’t believe he needs as much guidance as the rest of us, which is why you spend time with us.”

John rubbed a hand over his face. “If this new commander hears about the Dagans worshipping me, I’m toast.”

“They don’t worship you, John, and the report is very clear that McKay and DiNozzo cooked up this scheme to get the ZPM, and you actively opposed it. That’s not the same as Captain Hanson’s treason.”

“I hope the SGC agrees,” John said. He had never looked forward to inspections, but this was the first time he was actively dreading it. Ford came out of the transporter and practically bounded over.

“They’re here? Already? Wow. They must have an amazing ship.”

“Or they’ve been running silent and trying to hide from our sensors,” McKay said, his voice brittle. Not even McKay’s unhappiness could dim Ford’s smile, however. That just put Rodney in an even worse mood.

The men and woman on the floor of the gate room started arranging themselves into ranks, and John looked them over. They were the best people he’d ever served with. Their uniforms were a little ragged, and several had patches on elbows or knees or along the shoulder where a tac vest tended to rub, but they looked like a competent, dangerous crew, and John was proud of every one.

“Rodney, how long?” he asked, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. The soft drone of whispers fell silent.

“Three minutes to beaming range, assuming they have Asgard transporters working.” Rodney’s mouth pulled down into a frown.

John touched his comm. “Sheppard to all military personnel. Three minute ETA. All remaining off-duty personnel report to the main training room and standby.” He touched the comm off, and turned to Elizabeth. “Should we say something?” he asked softly.

She moved to his side, and touched his arm. “Try to avoid looking like you’re attending your own funeral, John. The appointment of a new commander is temporary, just during the crisis. So we treat this as one more bump in the road, and we accept the help the Daedalus is bringing with it. Think about it. We’re about to get a shipment of coffee.” She glanced over toward Rodney, but he was still staring morosely at his console.

John plastered on his best smile and offered an insincere, “Great.”

Elizabeth sighed and turned toward the assembled personnel.

“Any second now,” Rodney said, and that was confirmed by a bright flash of light. When it receded, John found himself staring down several P90s pointed right at him, but then he didn’t take it personally, there were a good twenty new Marines pointing P90s at all the Atlantis personnel.

“Colonel on deck,” John shouted, and the men and women of Pegasus all went to attention and offered their salutes.

“Yes, yes, ritualized stupidity,” Rodney muttered. John just ignored it as he saluted his new commanding officer, and saluting when you had a fully automatic weapon pointed at your gut was just uncomfortable.

The colonel in the middle stepped forward and saluted John. “At ease,” he ordered, and the Pegasus people all went to parade rest while the new Marines at least pointed the P90s toward the ground.

“Colonel,” Elizabeth said, stepping forward and breaking the awkward silence.

“Dr. Weir?

She smiled and took several steps down toward him.

“Colonel Dillon Everett, United States Marine Corps,” the man offered, barking the words out. “Sorry about the unfriendly welcome, ma’am, but you folks have about a hundred and eighty more life signs than we were led to expect. Is that friendly company?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth gave a light laugh as if it were nothing to have their own people aim weapons at them. “Those are the Athosians who normally live on the mainland. When the Wraith came, we had to pull back to the main city, and they claimed a small tower Dr. McKay identified as an agricultural center.”

Colonel Dillon Everett, United States Marine Corps frowned. “And the thirty-two non-humanoid life forms in that same area?”

“Non-humanoid?” Elizabeth turned around and looked up at John.

“Oh for the love of god,” Rodney snapped, “those are the alpaca. Doesn’t anyone know how to interpret a sensor reading?” He had his arms crossed and his best belligerent face on. It had taken John more missions that he wanted to admit before he’d realized that was McKay’s insecure face.

“The what?” Everett asked.

John spoke up before Rodney could get himself in any more trouble. “It’s like a small llama with a valuable hair that our trading partners use for textiles, sir.”

Everett still had an expression like was waiting for the punch line.

“I suppose the Asgard don’t normally calibrate their sensors for alpaca,” Elizabeth commented.

“I suppose they don’t,” Everett finally conceded. “General O'Neill sends his compliments on a job well done under extraordinary circumstances,” he told Elizabeth, and not a full second later, he dropped verbal napalm on them. “You are relieved.”

John’s guts turned to ice. He had fully expected to get replaced. At best, he would be under the new commander. At worst, he’d be shipped back to Earth, but never in his worst nightmare had he imagined Elizabeth getting fired. From the look on her face, she was just as shocked.

She moved to the side to physically block Everett from going up the stairs. “Hold on a second, Colonel. I don't think you fully grasp the difficulty of our situation here.”

“You have eight hive ships bearing down on your position. Honestly, I expected you to have three more holding you siege, but since you’ve cleared the decks, I asked Colonel Caldwell to beam men and equipment into position.”

“Fifteen,” Rodney said.

“Fifteen what?” Everett studied Rodney like he was a bug that Everett had just found crawling up the bathroom wall.

“Fifteen hive ships are headed this way.”

“Well, if you folks can take care of three, fifteen shouldn’t be a problem for us. Ma’am,” Everett held a piece of paper out toward Elizabeth. “Signed by General O’Neill.” Then he turned on Sheppard. “Join me in my offices in the conference room. We'll discuss our tactical position.”

Everett turned and moved around Elizabeth, his Marines streaming up the stairs in his wake, and John was left staring helplessly at her. She ran things. He just made things happen.

She turned and raised her voice, which Elizabeth almost never did. “Colonel Everett! Fine,” she said in a diplomatic tone. She usually gave in about two seconds before she verbally gutted someone. It was one of John’s favorite parts of watching her negotiate. “You're in charge, but I should be at that briefing.”

He had stopped near the rail, looking down at all the Atlantis personnel, except Rodney who had moved over to one side. Radek had joined him. “When it comes down to any other aspect of Atlantis, I will be happy to include you,” Everett offered in a condescending voice. “We're talking about our tactical position.”

“I understand that—”

“Good,” Everett said, and then he turned and walked off. Fast.

Elizabeth wearily finished her sentence. “But I have more experience with the enemy in this galaxy than any of the people you’ve brought.”

John cringed, especially since she was right. “Should I…” he let his voice trail off. He actually didn’t know what he should do.

She shook her head. “No, let it go. We can’t afford to have you get on his bad side.”

John looked around, and the Pegasus folk were looking up at him, many confused, and a few openly wary. Stackhouse definitely hadn’t appreciated having a weapon pointed at him. John was just counting his lucky stars that Teyla hadn’t been here. The idea of someone pointing a gun at Teyla slightly terrified him. Teyla’s revenge might not be swift, but it would be thorough.

“Great. I’ll go play nice,” John told her, and he honestly tried to put on a welcoming smile. He doubted he got the expression right, though.

Trotting up the stairs, John strained to hear what Everett might be saying, but he could only hear Rodney and Radek complaining about how the military shut them out until it needed them to fix something. That stung. John had never shut his scientists out. Hell, he’d given up his best gunny in the name of science, not to mention long hours of turning on Ancient tooth brushes and white noise machines.

When John got to the conference room, Everett barely even glanced up. He was busy pointing out positions on a huge schematic of Atlantis he’d spread out over a table. “We’ve set up rail guns here, here, and here. They deliver an impact velocity of Mach five at two hundred and fifty miles. A standard magazine will hold ten thousand rounds,” he told an overenthusiastic Ford. If the lieutenant got any more excited, he was going to grow a tail and start wagging it. John could recognize jealousy when it rose up and tried to leak out his pores, but for the sake of his career, he tried to stomp it down.

“That’s nothing,” Everett said, clearly enjoying Ford’s attention. Or maybe adoration would be a better word. “We brought six naqahdah enhanced nuclear warheads, twelve hundred megatons apiece. They emit almost zero EM and are otherwise invisible to radar. Once deployed, they will detonate by proximity fuse.”

John could almost see the invisible tail wagging as Ford asked in an awed voice, “Space mines?”

A man with a captain’s insignia answered. “That's right. We use jumpers in stealth mode to place them in a pattern between the armada and Atlantis.” He turned toward John with this open, hopeful expression that made John want to look for the knife in his own back. John had never trusted overly friendly people. They reminded him of his father. “Major, we were hoping you could help us with that.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “I do recommend we keep a couple back. Wraith are clever with tactics, and brute—”

“Negative,” Everett cut him off. “We’re only going to get one shot at this. We need to take out as many hives as possible.”

“Sir, we’ve already deployed two nuclear devices, so they’ll be expecting—”

“Trust me, they won’t expect these,” Everett said, “Major.”

John snapped his mouth shut. Right. He didn’t have the rank to argue, so he could swallow all the orders and the frustration and just do what he was fucking told, that was the message here. Since coming to Atlantis, John had begun to forget why he’d grown so unhappy in the Air Force. He was starting to remember now.

“Captain Radner, get a full inventory of weapons.”

Radner turned to one of the sergeants. “Sergeant, you heard the Colonel.”

“Yes, sir.” The sergeant turned and headed out. It was like watching a twisted version of telephone where the people had nuclear weapons. Yeah, John’s dislike of the military was coming home in full force.

Everett turned to Ford. “I’d like you walk the two captains through your local procedures, staging areas, all of that.”

“Yes, sir,” Ford answered with a smile, and all the enthusiasm that John had once loved now annoyed him as much as it annoyed Rodney. Ford and the two captains left, and John was alone with Everett, two sergeants, and someone who wasn’t wearing any rank insignia.

“Now,” Everett pinned John with a cold look, “Let’s talk about the civilian population. How many are armed and trained?”

John ran his fingers through his hair. “Teyla would have a better idea of that, sir.”

“The woman with the Wraith DNA?” Everett didn’t bother to hide his disgust.

“Yes, sir. She handles most of the details with civilians.”

“Well, do your best, Major.” If Everett tried his best, he couldn’t have come off any more condescending. “But I need a sit rep.”

“Yes, sir. We have under two-hundred Athosians. That is the entire tribe, and normally most of them work on the mainland. They’re farmers, but they have a form of martial arts that is very effective in hand-to-hand fighting. About one in ten are fighters. We have around a dozen linguists and historians from Dagas, and our largest population is normally the Hoff at around a hundred and fifty. They make up most of our city workers including electricians and farmers, but almost none of them know how to fight. They are, however, very motivated, and the Wraith can’t feed on the Hoff.”

“The virus,” Everett said with a grunt.

“Yes, sir.”

“The Genii are at about a 1960s level of technology, and they are the most familiar with our equipment. I would trust them on the line with our people, but there are only four in the city.”

“Genii.” Everett’s voice had no emotion. “These would be the people who tried to invade and steal the city, and failing that, tried to kidnap Dr. Weir.” The muscle at the side of his jaw was bulging, and John could feel the disapproving stares of everyone in the room.

John swallowed. “Yes, sir.” It’d been a while since he thought of them like that. They weren’t generic Genii who had invaded, they were individuals. Ladon had a devious streak a mile while. If you got into a game of Pegasus Monopoly with him, he was going to decimate all your little tribes and bunkers and charge you double shares of grain when you landed on his Aurora class warship. And his sister was nearly as bad. She seemed so sweet, and then you’d go back to your quarters and realize she’d insulted three generations of your family. Crusty old Avonli had cancer when he came, and he’d dismissed it, saying it was a small price to pay for such a lofty goal—striking back at the Wraith. But then when Carson had cured it, he’d gotten drunk and cried. And Shae. That woman was whip smart with as many neuroses as McKay. They were part of Atlantis, not invaders. But John couldn’t say any of that, so he stood under the baleful gaze of his new commanding officer and started wondering if the Air Force would let him retire on Atlantis. It might be the only way he stayed.

“How many kids?”

“I honestly don’t know, sir. Quite a few.” John thought about the number of times he’d joined during an impromptu stickball game in the hallways. It always made him smile. Atlantis should have children on it, running, playing. The sound of their yells echoing through the halls was right, somehow. As grand as Atlantis was, silence didn’t fit her.

“Major, your first job is to identify a central area for all civilians. Look for something in this area,” he said as he pointed to the map. “You are to secure the area, ensure beds and cleaning facilities and then start moving them over.”

“Sir, all civilians are already assigned quarters.”

“Major, you have your orders,” Everett snapped.

For a second, John stood there and debated the wisdom of telling an officer to fuck off. But he had little doubt what would happen if he gave in to the urge. “Yes, sir,” he agreed.

“Dismissed,” Everett snapped, and John lost his last chance to try and advocate for his people.