Recipient: shetiger

Pairing: Emmagan/Sheppard

Rating: NC-17

Word count: 31167

Warnings: violence and graphic sex

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis, the characters and universe are the property of the Sci-Fi Channel and MGM.

Summary: After the events of Enemy At The Gates, corpses are being found drained of life and the team must go hunting Wraith all over the planet. But is this just the work of Wraith opportunists, or is it part of a bigger, long-term plan the Wraith have for Earth?

Notes: With so much thanks to gaffsie for her beta-ing on the run, and to the tinychat girls and guys for being awesome when the panic set in! Also to the people whose writing has influenced my views on Wraith society and culture - brilliant extrapolation!

Around midday, Mia noticed that the birds had fallen silent.

When she commented on this to Pete, he shrugged. "Maybe it's the mist?"

"But the mist's been around all morning," she pointed out. The trail through this corner of the national park was well marked and had several good camping spots marked out along its way. There were places to rest and stations from which you could call for help if someone got injured, and it was a pretty good holiday if you didn't mind roughing it. "The birds only just stopped."

"Well, maybe it's lunchtime." He grinned at his joke, then rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, lighten up, Mi. You've been on about this holiday for months now, and maybe it's a bit damp for this time of year, but we're not flooded like those poor bastards out over Toowoomba way."

Which was true, but didn't comfort Mia at all. She'd heard that birds and animals only went silent when bigger predators were around. And they'd sung all morning while she and Pete were on the trail out here, so it wasn't their presence that was causing the silence.

"I don't know, Pete..."

He sighed and sat down on a damp log, easing his pack off his shoulders. "Oh, for God's sake," he said. "Just because you're a city girl doesn't mean you have to jump at every shadow."

"I'm not jumping at every shadow," she snapped, irked at the 'city girl' remark. Maybe she wasn't from a farm like he was, but she wasn't a wuss just because she'd grown up in the Brisbane suburbs.

"Sure you aren't," he said. "Look, let's just have lunch and--"

They strode out of the mist, shadows that turned into creatures tall and terrible, their long hair streaming over their shoulders, their eyes reptilian slits, and their mouths strangely fanged. Three males and a female whose gaze held Mia's and silenced the scream that hovered on her lips.

She could feel the creature in her mind - at least, she felt like something was tickling around inside her skull, fishing through her thoughts and memories the way someone went through a filing cabinet - and struggled helplessly. There were stars and an endless blackness, a sinuously organic space that curved and stretched overhead, stark lighting that cast everything into shadows.

And this creature, like a spider in the middle of her web, watching it all with a terrible hunger in her eyes, in her hands.

Watching her.

"Lunch," said the white-skinned creature in a voice overlaid with sibilant harmonics, "would be most welcome."

~oOo~

Looking at the dead through a camera feed was not the same as cleaning up after a cull, Teyla thought. It lacked the immediacy, the sense of the present dead - the lives they had lived, the small details that could not be captured by the focus of the camera on the bodies.

It distanced her from the full horror of the withered husk, hollow sockets staring up at the sky as dried lips peeled back from white teeth. Yet, even through the separation of the lens, the shaking angle of the hand-held camera made it all the more poignant.

Teyla could pity the shaken and shocked Earth personnel standing around her in the briefing room of the Daedalus.

Earth had never known death such as this before.

Perhaps the IOA might now understand why Atlantis should return to the Pegasus galaxy to fight the Wraith. Now that the Wraith had attacked Earth, surely they would see the wisdom of fighting the battle in Pegasus rather than on their home ground?

Teyla put politics aside, focusing on the situation at hand. "When were they discovered?"

"Around 0100 hours this morning, our time." The man who answered from the front of the room sounded stiff and formal, his hands folded behind his back in a familiar pose. The attitude of former Sergeant Bates - now Agent Bates of the International Oversight Advisory - had not changed in five years.

She had not expected it to. But she had hoped.

"That's, what? 1800 hours in Australia?" John frowned from beside her, rocking lightly on his heels as he contemplated the screen. "Who called it in?"

Bates consulted his notes. "Lance-Corporal Reynolds, Australian Army, formerly of the Swap-and-Supply Division in Atlantis."

"Swap-and-Supply?" Rodney snorted. "You mean the Scroungers?"

"Her husband's a park ranger in this national park - when the news came in, she called it in with Homeworld Security who contacted her superiors." Bates indicated the video. "We've got this trail locked down, but that's not going to do us much good. The Daintree National Park is pretty big - around thirty square miles - and the Wraith could be anywhere in there."

"If they stuck to the park area." Ronon shrugged. "Any other bodies?"

"Not yet. But we've got all our units at high alert. Our security is monitoring all emergency channels."

"Which isn't going to tell us a thing if the Wraith find somewhere quiet and abandoned to set up shop." Rodney huffed. "Has anyone set up the Daedalus scanners to search for Wraith life signs?"

The question was clearly directed at one of the Daedalus personnel, and Major Marks answered it. "Set up, yes, Dr. McKay, but we can't scan the whole planet. The Daedalus don't have the resources. None of our ships do."

"Fine, so we'll need to narrow down the search area." Rodney looked cross, as though it was Sergeant Bates' fault that Earth was so big.

Teyla considered the screen, still showing the recorded scene - the thick mossy carpet on which the withered bodies lay, the huge tree roots that scattered along the walking track, the brightly coloured packs lying discarded by the bodies.

"Follow the flight pattern of the darts that destroyed Area 51."

John nodded at her. "What Teyla said. They came in from the east, didn't they? They might have dropped other Wraith off along the way."

"Except that Australia isn't anywhere near Area 51."

"Then there were other darts that also came down to the surface - possibly under darkness' cover." Teyla spoke with certainty. Perhaps this was not something that she had seen before, but the Wraith were Wraith and they would not give up a prize such as Earth with such ease.

"And some might still be around." John looked at Rodney who'd opened up his PDA.

"Already reconfiguring it."

Teyla's mouth twitched as she exchanged a look with John. After a moment, he turned back to Bates who was watching them with a familiar calculation. She smiled - a familiar glitter of antagonism rose up in her chest. Sergeant Bates had never been able to see her relationship with John as platonic.

She had worried about it then. Now, at least, she could say that his opinion mattered not one bit to her. Her relationship with John was no business of his, nor that of any organisation on or off Earth.

Still, the old reaction bubbled within her, and her voice carried an edge as she spoke. "Perhaps also look for recent records of 'lights in the sky' or unusual occurrences?"

Sergeant Bates shook his head, frowning. "We're not likely to find much. There's six billion people on Earth - any signal would get lost in the noise."

"Use your world wide connection." Ronon said. He was studying the video close up. "You've got conspiracy theorists, don't you?"

"Those nuts?"

"He's right, though." Rodney was tapping away. "They might be nuts, but they're observant nuts. If there's anything unusual happening, the conspiracy theorists will be all over it. Okay, I've got the life-signs program - we can configure the Daedalus for Wraith life-signs, but it won't be effective at anything more than forty miles - and it'll be vague at best. As in 'Wraith alert' but not where."

"We can narrow it down once we're there," John said. "Bates, we'll need a dozen volunteers to take down to the surface to pick up the dead. I think that we'll want Keller to take a look at them, if she's available. Rodney?"

"Strangely, Sheppard, the fact that we're together doesn't mean I instantly know where she is at any given time! And I'm busy!"

John blinked at Rodney's brusqueness, but turned towards Teyla before he betrayed any other emotion.

"Fine. Teyla, can you get in touch with Keller? Bates, Ronon and I'll need a list of equipment and personnel."

Teyla nodded, and touched her earpiece to initiate Jennifer's frequency as John glanced out over the room at the personnel gathered with a faint grimace. "Looks like we're going hunting."

~oOo~

It was not as simple as that, of course. As Rodney noted sarcastically when Ronon complained about the delay, one did not simply walk into Mordor.

"It's a matter of jurisdiction," said John as he checked the ammunition in his sidearm. They were in the Daedalus' armoury, collecting their gear in preparation for moving out with the first group of volunteers. "The Australian military don't want us casually wandering through their countryside. Even though we're allies, they've still got to go through some diplomatic and command channels."

Ronon shrugged. "If they want the Wraith out...."

"They might believe their own forces are adequate to hunt them down." Which they might be, Teyla supposed - if they knew what they were dealing with and had the experience.

They neither knew nor had the experience.

Teyla found herself envying that ignorance. Perhaps Torren would someday live in a galaxy where the Wraith had been defeated - or, if nothing else, 'defanged' - but even he would remember what it meant to grow up in fear of the Wraith.

A pang squeezed her heart. Torren was a galaxy away, in Pegasus with his father, while his mother struggled with the governments of Earth to persuade them to allow Atlantis to return.

He had been with Kanaan on New Athos when the news of the Wraith attack on Earth came, and she had thought it best to leave him there. Even when Mr. Woolsey had offered her the opportunity to return to Pegasus with Ronon, she had declined. It had been a simple question of loyalty - not to Earth and its governments, but to John and Rodney, to Atlantis and the people they had worked with, and to anyone who might become victim of the Wraith.

How could she cower back on New Athos, knowing that there were others who might suffer while she remained in safety?

That it was a decision simply stated had not made it an easy decision to make.

Teyla was all the more grateful she'd made it as the weeks passed and the governments of Earth stretched out their greedy hands to make claim upon Atlantis.

Her son was growing up without her, day by day. Yet to leave Earth would mean leaving the Pegasus galaxy without even her voice to lift in against the many voices of Earth who clamoured for Atlantis to remain. And leaving Atlantis on Earth would leave her people - all of Pegasus - open to the Wraith.

Whatever Teyla felt for John and Rodney, for Jennifer, Carson and Evan, for Elizabeth, Kate, Aiden, and the many others she had met and befriended over the years in Atlantis, she was under no illusions about their IOA or their governments. Possession was nine-tenths of the law, as they said, and the only planet that mattered in the scheme of things was Earth.

That was not what she wanted for Pegasus - for Torren and her people - to be left to the Wraith, while Earth cowered behind the safety of its warships and flightships and its possession of Atlantis. And so she would fight in this battle that was at once hers and not-hers, in the hope that Atlantis might be allowed to return to Pegasus.

"We may not going through official channels, but we do need to co-ordinate with Australian personnel down on the ground." John patted himself down, looking for his sunglasses and found them hung around his neck.

Teyla slid the spare clip into her vest. "It would be the same were we seeking permission to go through to Genii territory, Ronon."

"I wouldn't ask permission to enter Genii territory."

"And that's what scares us. You guys ready?"

Teyla finished fastening her thigh holster and gave John a swift smile to confirm her preparation. "I am."

"Sir?" Sergeant-- Agent Bates was standing by the door of the armoury with the hesitation that suggested he had information to impart. His eyes skimmed over Teyla, briefly resting on her sidearm and P-90 before he looked to John. "I've got new directives, sir, from the IOA."

"Now why don't I think that's good news?"

"Teyla and Ronon are to remain up here to direct the search and train more marines in dealing with the Wraith."

Surprised at being asked to stay behind, it took Teyla a moment to realise that John had tensed, very slightly. A moment later, Ronon seemed to catch whatever was in the air, and his eyes narrowed, too. But John only walked past Bates. "Side room, now."

People looked at them as they went by, but nothing was said such that Teyla could hear it. The room they found was a gear-up room of some sort, the lockers and laundry baskets as familiar to Teyla as those in Atlantis, but she didn't pay them any attention now. The tang of the lock snicked closed, an audible sign that they were closed in and could not easily be heard.

"It's not my orders, sir."

"They didn't have a problem with us on Earth before." Ronon folded his arms across his chest.

Teyla watched Bates, narrow eyed, noting the way he held himself - stiffly, as though he was expecting a dressing down from a senior officer. But there was also a defiance in the set of his jaw, in the way his eyes flickered over to Teyla's face before turning to answer Ronon's question.

"That was different."

"Different, how, exactly?" John asked, and his tone was soft and dangerous. "Ronon was with us when we hunted the Asurans last time. Teyla's been an ally for the last five years. Hell, we've just travelled halfway across the US with the blessing - and financing - of Homeworld Security."

Agent Bates hesitated before answering. "Look, all I know is that the IOA want Ronon and Teyla to do inductions for other marine or special forces teams who might be sent out to hunt the Wraith."

"And we don't have any other personnel available for that?"

"Not right now. We've recalled some Atlantis personnel, but most are on shore leave, and even if we managed to get in contact with them, there's still not enough for the kind of searching we need to be doing."

It made sense.

Yet that was not the whole of it.

Beneath the truth of Sergeant Bates' statements were other things that Teyla could feel like the deeper currents beneath the sea on Lantea: distrust and dismissal, suspicion and secretiveness. These were not orders he had written himself, but there was a part of him that agreed with the reasons behind them; the reasons that were not stated, but which were present nonetheless. His agreement was no surprise to Teyla; Bates had never trusted her in Atlantis, and this was not merely the expedition in another galaxy but on his home soil.

Still, the distrust stung - not Bates' distrust so much as that of those who had given the orders that she and Ronon should remain behind while others went hunting.

She did not say any of this - at least, not now.

John was following up the surface premise. "Not enough personnel? How many sites have we found?"

"Colonel Caldwell set several techs to doing internet searches - we've located six possible locations globally, so far, at least one of them on US soil."

Teyla winced. Six groups of Wraith spread out across a planet the size of Earth? She glanced at Ronon and found him looking back at her with the grim expression of one who'd seen too much death caused by the Wraith.

"We will stay here to train the marines." Teyla answered for both of them. She did not need to ask Ronon; she trusted his mind was like hers. Much as they would prefer to be on the ground, hunting the Wraith, they understood duty.

More teams would be needed to hunt the Wraith and there were very few people who had direct experience with them. Even many of those from Atlantis did not have the kind of experience that was needed here. They had not fought the Wraith directly, only as part of the expedition. Oh, they knew the truth of the reports - of the Wraith's strength and speed, of their culling and feeding. They had watched Michael being dragged through Atlantis' corridors on his way to being humanised, had kept clear of the Wraith Queen and her clevermen who walked the corridors of the city during the ill-fated alliance, had seen Todd as he was taken through the city by Teyla's team multiple times.

But they had not stood face to face with a Wraith. They had not felt the clammy touch of a cold hand on their skin. They had never looked past the web across the entrance of their prison cell, seen the faceless guards waiting there and known that death walked close by.

They had never felt the Wraith crawling through their minds, gleeful hunger and ravenous pleasure, the overlay of the hive, the power of a Queen's mind snapping at their own in domination.

Teyla would not wish that on anyone.

"All right," John said, and his hesitation was only just noticeable. "We'll be out shortly, Agent Bates."

The door hissed shut behind him, sealing out the world, and silence fell in the room for only a moment.

"This is crap," Rodney said without preamble. "What? They're essentially saying they don't trust you to hunt the Wraith?"

"It is what it is, Rodney." But the line of John's mouth was straight and displeased. He turned to Ronon. "You okay with this?"

Ronon looked to Teyla and shrugged, then looked back at John. "Don't have much choice."

"Well actually, we could probably push the point," Rodney said with a glance in Teyla's direction. "Say we're a team and we're going to do this as a team."

It was clear this wasn't something he was eager to do, but Teyla considered it thoughtful that he'd offered up the suggestion at all.

"It wouldn't earn us goodwill points, Rodney."

"Oh, and having saved Earth we're in such need of them?"

"With Atlantis still on Earth, we are in need of all the goodwill we can gain," Teyla said, voicing her own fears and suspicions of the last few days and leaving unsaid the sting of the authorities' distrust. That was a matter for another time, not now when there was a mission to complete. "We will stay behind."

"We will?" Ronon asked, somewhat mischievously as he went out, Rodney close behind him.

Teyla gestured at the door to John, but he didn't immediately follow their team-mates. "I'm sorry about this."

"You were not the one to give the order, John," she said, lowering her voice so they should not be heard outside. "Your ticket for the guilt trip is not valid."

His mouth tilted a little to the side. "Thanks. I'll speak with O'Neill about it."

"I know you will." Teyla did not think that O'Neill had been the one to set such a condition on their involvement in the search, but she did not say so. Doubtless, he already understood that himself. And she would prefer to be hunting the Wraith here on Earth, but that was not an option, so she would do what they allowed her. "Be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

Her lips curved in a laugh. "You do not want me to answer that, John."

"Maybe I do." His eyes rested on her face for a heartbeat, as though he might lean in towards her...

Voices echoed down the corridor, distant but distracting.

Yet as they emerged from the room, John walked close enough that their shoulders brushed, and the brief smile he gave her was like a caress.

"All right," he said as they reached their waiting team-mates. "Let's get this done."

They separated at the corner, John and Rodney heading off towards the transporter bay where their search teams waited, Teyla and Ronon escorted by a wary-eyed Agent Bates.

She said and did nothing to indicate the buzzing sense of frustration that lurked beneath her breastbone, desiring action. This was not her planet, not her galaxy, not her place. The decision had been made by those with authority on Earth. There was nothing Teyla could do to change that.

What she could do was help the only way it seemed they were willing to allow her.

~oOo~

By the end of the third training session, Ronon needed a fight.

He was a soldier; he knew about taking orders. That didn't mean he liked obeying them. And all through the training sessions, he felt the uneasy burn of frustration in the restless prickle of his limbs as he lectured the marines preparing to be beamed down to hunt the Wraith.

"Your advantage is that you're a large group and you're co-ordinated. If they're solo, they might get one of you but they won't get all."

"And if they're not?"

"If they're not, they'll work around you. They're not animals. They think and reason, same as you." Earth didn't have any predators like that - not ones that were capable of matching human thought.

"What would you do if you were a Wraith and we were hunting you?"

Ronon eyed the young man for long enough to make the others in the room begin shifting uncomfortably, wondering what'd been said. He didn't bring up the fact that the man had given him what would amount to a mortal insult in Pegasus.

He didn't answer it.

This wasn't Pegasus; it was Earth. These weren't Satedan fighters; they were Earth kids. Giving in to anger wouldn't serve any purpose other than to emphasise what he knew they were thinking when they looked at him: barbarian.

"They're not human."

"Yeah, but if they were..."

Up the back of the room, the doors hissed open. Ronon didn't look to see who'd entered, although others did. He held the marine's gaze - a trick he'd learned on Sateda for green recruits and which seemed to work on Earth as well as it had back home.

"They're not. But basic strategy works for them, same as it does for you. They'll pick you off one by one if they can't get you all at once. Mess with your mind so you see and hear things that aren't there."

"Like-- What? Jedi mind tricks?"

They were laughing now - too young to send into this fight. Too young, too stupidly assured of their supremacy. They'd seen the video, but they didn't believe it could happen to them.

Movement on the periphery of the room caught his attention - a Daedalus lieutenant he recognised by face, if not name. "Sir? Uh, Specialist Dex? Is your group ready to go?"

He glanced around the room. "Yeah, they're ready."

Ready by Earth standards, anyway. Ronon wouldn't have sent them out to face the Wraith - not on information alone. But this wasn't Sateda, and these troops weren't fighting an armada of Wraith. This was a clean-up mission, nothing more.

The lieutenant nodded and turned to the room. "All right. You're to report to Agent Bates, in D-34-14 where you'll be sorted into groups and assigned your hunting parties. Good luck."

As the room emptied, Ronon caught a few glances from some of the men, some curious and holding back, some with questions and hesitant. He simply sat on the desk and waited for the room to empty - and to see if any of them would collect the courage to ask the questions that hovered on their lips, unspoken in the group.

None did.

None ever had.

Ronon hauled himself up off the desk as the last of them went out. "Do I report to Agent Bates, too?"

The Daedalus officer looked surprised and apprehensive. "Uh, I don't have any instructions with regard to you, Specialist. I guess... I guess you could wait until the next group arrive?"

Ronon waited for one minute in the empty room after the lieutenant left, then went looking for Teyla.

Neither he nor Teyla had been issued with the Daedalus communications channels, which meant they were effectively cut off from any information about what was happening. If he were of a suspicious mindset, he would have said that someone was trying to keep them out of the loop. Considering they'd worked with the Daedalus crew before and always been included in the planning, it seemed strange.

He found it stranger still that he passed several Daedalus personnel in the corridors, all of whom he knew, all of whom nodded at him, not one of whom stopped him or demanded to know where he was going.

So he was allowed to roam free through the ship, but not be included in the hunt?

Ronon frowned and headed for the bridge.

Two doors away from the bridge, in corridors frantic with personnel, someone spotted him and raised the alarm - a heavy-set stranger in civilian clothes whose brows drew together and whose outraged shout turned heads for all of three seconds. "Hey! You're not authorised for this section of the ship! Security, we have a breach on the starboard corridor to the bridge..."

Ronon knew better than to run. The security chief on the Daedalus was an old friend, anyway - Hal "Garfield" Ridgerton, who came at a run, took one look at Ronon and snorted.

"That's no security breach, Greene," he told the civilian with no small measure of disgust. "That's just Ronon."

A meaty hand was stuck out with a grin, and Ronon shook it.

"Not out yet?"

"One month to go. But what a way to end the tour!" Garfield jerked his head off to the side in what was probably supposed to be the general direction of Earth. "Good times!"

In spite of the dire situation - Ronon wasn't about to call a dozen Wraith on Earth 'good times' - he found himself grinning back. Garfield was infectious that way; a good man, although no hand-to-hand fighter, he had a head for strategies and people. He would have made an excellent master-at-arms in the Satedan forces, training up recruits and smacking sense into them, or else keeping a unit command in weapons and plans.

"I don't care what he is," snapped the civilian. Either he didn't see there wasn't anyone listening, or he didn't care. "He's not allowed to be anywhere near this section of the ship according to Article 4 of the IOA handbook for combat spaceships, no aliens are permitted near the --"

Garfield paid no attention to him, but spoke into his mike. "Colonel? I've got Ronon in the starboard corridor to the bridge. Is it okay if I bring him in? Oh? Right, sir. We'll wait for her to join us and I'll get them down to the transporter bay immediately."

"Teyla?"

Garfield nodded. "She's just coming down from the bridge now."

"On the bridge? She shouldn't be anywhere near--"

The master sergeant didn't even deign to notice the protest. "Apparently Sheppard and his team are encountering troubles, and Caldwell thinks it'd be best we get you guys down there to help them out."

"Colonel Caldwell isn't authorised to make such decisions! The IOA--"

"Has no idea of what we're facing," snapped Garfield, finally turning on the IOA agent. His big face was pink with irritation, nostrils flaring in his bulbous nose, his eyes narrowed and hard. "Bet you've never even handled a weapon! Ronon here survived seven years running from the Wraith. You tell me who I'm going to follow in a crisis - the rules of a bunch of politicos in DC, or the guy who was hunted like an animal for seven years and is still standing!"

"We can't trust..."

"Well, you'd best get off this ship, 'cause the Asgards were the ones helped us put this ship together, and the Goa'uld were the ones we stole the tech off for the X-302s. It's aliens like Ronon here who've helped us save our Earth bacon time and again while your IOA waffled over whether it was safe or not, so you'll excuse me for not giving a shit what your IOA thinks of aliens in combat positions on a warship when we're at war!"

Doors hissed softly behind them, and Ronon glanced sideways as Teyla came up, her expression polite and friendly.

"Master Sergeant Ridgerton," she said in the tone of voice that immediately said 'trader' to Ronon. Bright and pleasant, it was the kind of voice that people would make an effort to be polite to, no matter what frame of mind they were in, because the person was being so friendly. Teyla was good at that.

It probably helped that a few degrees sharper and it would become the kind of voice that would encourage people to play nice or else the speaker was going to do something people wouldn't like. Teyla was pretty good at that, too.

Garfield settled himself visibly.

"Ms. Emmagan, how are you?"

"I am quite well. You?"

"Oh, yeah. can't complain - well, other than this situation we're in, of course. If you and Ronon would just come this way. Greene, if you've got any further issues, I suggest you take it up with Colonel Caldwell and Stargate Command!"

Greene was already gabbling into his earpiece as they left.

"Trouble?" Teyla inquired as they moved out of that corridor and the doors closed behind them.

"Stupidity," was Garfield's response. "You guys shoulda gone with Colonel Sheppard. None of this dicking around with training and shit."

Ronon caught the look Teyla sent his way before she asked, "They have not found any Wraith?"

"Not exactly." The master sergeant grimaced. "The problem is that Dr. McKay's thingummy is giving them all the right signals but there's not a Wraith in sight."

~oOo~

John had almost forgotten what it was like to hunt the Wraith on the ground.

Overhead, the sky was an unbearable white, almost pearly against the stark black trunks of the trees spearing up and up and up. Damp leaves rustled in the wind, and occasionally spilled droplets of collected rain with their movement, spattering the ground and the men below.

They'd been out here for three hours. So far, they'd seen nothing but the rainforest, heard nothing but the damp whisper of the wind in the trees, and fought nothing but boredom and the creeping uncertainty that there was nothing out there but the other teams from Stargate Command, moving through a landscape that held nothing but the wind.

They were tired. They'd been out here in the humid warmth of the rainforest, seeking but never finding.

Scattered conversations drifted across John's ears as they worked their way across the squelchy ground, damp from the tropical weather and the overabundance of rain.

"Like being in a sauna. Too damned muggy."

"Was that...? No. Just a bird."

"Isn't this country supposed to be desert?"

"I can't believe we're hunting aliens. Isn't this the bit in the movie where we die horribly?"

Rodney turned to give the genre-savvy Airman a glare. "No-one is going to die horribly!"

"Yeah, that's what they always say, but people still do!"

John half-grimaced, half-grinned. The irony of Rodney trying to be the optimistic one wasn't lost on him, although his team-mate was right. The last thing they needed was for people to think of the ways this could go wrong. He already had that in well in hand - both from painful experience, and the knowledge that they'd made a huge mistake in coming down here without either Teyla or Ronon.

He should have fought harder to keep them in the ground parties. Their skills and experience would have come in extremely useful - Teyla's Wraith gene, Ronon's senses. Instead, they were up on the Daedalus, being treated by the IOA as though they weren't even allies.

O'Neill had been gruff and grim. "I've got IOA reps looking over my shoulder when I fart, Sheppard. Right now, they're calling the shots."

"Sir, without Teyla and Ronon..."

"We're at a disadvantage. I know. I've already advised the IOA of that and they're not budging. Someone political decided that it's The Aliens who are out to get us."

"Thought about sending Ronon and Teyla in to educate them?"

"Don't tempt me. I was thinking Teal'c and Vala."

But O'Neill had professed that his hands were tied, and John figured that Carter trusted O'Neill, and Teyla thought well of him, and so had Elizabeth, so...

Life could be tricky when the women in your life were the ones making the character judgements. But John trusted them, and the chain held enough to include O'Neill in that trust - for now.

But he still wished he had his team-mates here.

Rodney finished off the airman with a scowl, then turned back to John. "You know, sending us down here without Teyla or Ronon is one of the more spectacularly stupid moves in the history of stupid moves by the SGC."

John didn't agree out loud. "Anything?"

"Nothing clear." Rodney scowled at the life-signs detector. "Is this thing even working?"

"I wouldn't know."

Rodney didn't even bother arguing that it was a rhetorical question, which was a bad sign. John glanced out through the mist at the line of men he was taking through the quiet and still forest and touched his earpiece.

"Lorne?"

"Nothing but mist, sir." A catch of breath, as though there was more that went unsaid.

"Major?"

"I was just thinking, sir. We could do with Ronon or Teyla out here."

So it wasn't just John missing his team-mates.

"We've got what we've got."

"And we'll just have to deal with it." Lorne finished for him. "Nothing on McKay's scope?"

He glanced at Rodney, who had the life-signs detector and was scowling at it as though it had just given the wrong answer. A moment later, his team-mate looked up, turning in a sharp circle as though taking stock of where they were.

"I'll get back to you, Major."

John went over to peer over Rodney's shoulder. "What's up?"

Rodney showed him the life-signs detector and the string of white dots at the centre of a cluster of moving red dots. "Wraith," he whispered. "They're converging on us."

"Converg--" John frowned as he looked around the slope. They'd spread out along this hillside, a thin line of marines up and down the damp hill. Stretched out. Exposed. Vulnerable. "This is Sheppard. Pull the line!"

"Sir?"

"Do it! Lorne?"

"What've you go?"

John did a quick headcount. "I've got twenty up against nine Wraith converging on us. Do you have our position?"

"We do. There's nothing on our scopes..." Through his earpiece, he heard Lorne giving the order for his men to move. "We're at least a couple of minutes away, Colonel, but we've got a local who knows the paths."

John wasn't listening.

Something rustled through the leaves behind him, a whisper of sound. He turned, bringing his weapon up. But there was no-one there, only clumping ferns and short trees and a creeping mist. A glance around him showed that others hadn't heard it. Several were giving him odd looks - before they, too, swung around, weapons rising as they looked for the threat they heard but couldn't see.

His mouth was suddenly dry.

It had been a while since he'd hunted Wraith on foot. He'd grown used to facing the Wraith with the 'jumper there to tell them what was real and what wasn't. Or with Teyla there with her gift to walk them through the visions.

John cursed as he realised the magnitude of the mistake he'd made.

"Sheppard?"

"It's the Wraith," he said, loud enough for the company to hear. "They're telepathic - they play tricks on your brain, influence what you see, what you hear."

"But...but I heard..."

Rodney held up the life-signs detector and indicated three directions - none of which were the way the airman was facing with his P-90 up and cocked in the thickening mist.

"We can't see in all this..."

"We can just shoot into the mist!"

A man with master sergeant's pips on his arm grunted. "Not with Major Lorne and his men on their way!"

The thought of opening up friendly fire quelled that argument pretty swiftly.

"It was a mistake to come out without Teyla and Ronon," Rodney muttered.

"Tell me about it." John grimaced, then whirled as someone behind him yelped

Out on the end of the line, one of the marines had brought up his weapon, cocking it at thin air.

"Burnett?"

"I thought I saw something, sir."

"That'll be the Wraith," said the master sergeant with a knowing look in John's direction. "Sir, with all due respect, we should pull in more."

"Agreed. Pull in and form a circle, facing out." Backs to each other, it wasn't perfect but it would be better than questioning what was behind them. So long as they knew someone had their back, they could concentrate on what was in front of them.

The men on the outer edges started moving in, facing the mist as they backed towards the safety of the main group.

It whirled out of the mist, lank hair and burning eyes, oily white skin with winding tattoos, dark leathers flashing as one hand reached out to grab the frozen marine.

John jerked up his weapon and fired a single-shot, aiming for the Wraith's head.

Time slowed. He saw the Wraith vanish as though it had never stood there. He saw it appear on the other side of the marine. Its lips stretched in a snarl, and the marine had only a moment's recoil, before he was yanked forward into the mist and the whiteness closed up after them.

"Burnett!" The nearest man leaped after them, weapon out, but was dragged back by his neighbour. "What the fu--"

"Don't break the circle, man!"

"But it took Burnett..." He trailed off.

The distant scream ground into a hoarse rasp, and John exhaled. Another man down, another letter to write. "Hold the circle," he said, making his voice like steel. "Switch to single-shot and be sure what you're firing at. We've got reinforcements coming and we don't want to take them out with friendly fire."

But the moments drifted past without any further sign of the Wraith.

"There's at least nine of them out there," Rodney said quietly. He turned and pointed. "That way, there, there, and there..."

"That's four."

"Some of them are doubling up, okay?"

John tapped his earpiece. "Lorne, we're about to get company. Keep your eyes peeled and watch out for crossfire."

"Copy that. We're coming in from the north-west."

John turned a little, trying to get his bearings in the mist...

The Wraith came from nowhere, clawed hands dragging at his vest. The air was suddenly full of gunfire and shouts. In his periphery, John could see others struggling with the Wraith, but his attention was on the one attacking him. He swung his P-90 up with all the force he could manage, breaking its grip on him, continuing the swing up into the creature's jaw.

It blocked the swing, stronger and faster. He stepped back and tried to bring the muzzle in line for a shot. It stepped aside, moving like smoke, and John's eyes ached at the jarring shift. He got off two shots - too high, too wide, and then one that got it in the shoulder - a flesh wound. It snarled, and lunged for him again.

Shots rang out and the Wraith collapsed, but there were others - more than the nine Rodney had stated.

John shot the downed Wraith in the skull, then brought it up to shoot one trying to get at Rodney. "You said nine!"

"That's what it showed!" Rodney yelled back. He was aiming with his Beretta, trying to pick a target that wasn't struggling with one of the marines. John shot an oncoming drone, and spun in a tight circle to evaluate the situation.

There were too many of them. At least three men were down, and the number of Wraith seemed to be increasing. Or maybe that was just what they were making him believe...

"Daedalus, this is Sheppard. We need reinforcements!"

Movement to the left jerked him around - a drone seemingly appearing out of a twirl of mist. Real or illusion? John brought his P-90 up as it lunged at him, slapping the weapon out of the way and reaching for his chest. John just managed to jerk back and spin away, out of reach of the groping hand.

"Copy that, Colonel.... We're just..."

"Waiting for us to die?" Rodney snapped, out of John's line-of-sight. "Get us help now!"

He kicked the Wraith's legs out from beneath it - or tried to. It staggered back, but regained its balance too quickly. Even as he brought his P-90 up he knew the shots wouldn't hit the creature where they had to - square in the torso. They stitched through the arm, leaving it limp - not the feeding one, though - that thrust forward, towards John's chest...

Light. Light everywhere. Blinding and disorienting. Fading from the searing white to dull grey by comparison. Metal decking beneath his feet, shouts and voices echoing around him.

And the Wraith hand still plunging towards him, latching onto his vest for that first biting sting of the feed...

"Enough!"

He grabbed at the arm, shoved it away, and it moved without resistance. The Wraith fell to the floor - collapsed, actually. Its compatriots were doing the same, drone and warrior alike, as though they were puppets and their strings had been cut.

John wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He aimed his P-90 and fired into its skull, watching it go limp. Around him, others were doing the same. There was a second flash of light and Lorne's men were beamed up, weapons out and ready, before they assessed the situation and relaxed.

"Sir?" Lorne was breathing hard from the run. "Sorry for not getting here sooner."

"Didn't need it in the end." John glanced around.

Ronon was already moving among the corpses, checking that the Wraith really were dead. He glanced up and gave John a brief nod of acknowledgement before going back to work. John turned to look for Teyla.

At first he didn't see her. The bay was full of marine squadrons waiting to be transported down, uniforms razor-creased, weapons gleaming. Heads craned and eyes goggled as they stared at the aliens they'd be hunting, whispered at the overkill taking place as Ronon and Lorne moved among the Wraith and put a confirmation bullet through each eye.

A break in the squadrons - the corridor leading back up to the main body of the ship. And she was standing there in the doorway, staring at the transporter bay as though she'd never seen dead Wraith before.

John glanced around to check that everything seemed in order, and went over.

Her eyes focused on him as he drew closer, and she managed a smile, although it seemed...wrong.

"You okay?"

"I should be asking you that," she said. The tart note vanished from her voice. "How many did we lose?"

Not 'how many did you lose' but 'how many did we lose'.

"Too many." He didn't want to talk about that just yet, though. "How'd the training go?"

"They are informed of the Wraith and techniques to fight them."

John eyed her. "Did any of them give you trouble?"

She shrugged, and her mouth curved a little - not the smile he'd been seeking but better than the first one. "Only what is customary from newcomers to Atlantis."

"You're a contractor with the Air Force. They'll treat you with appropriate respect." John would be speaking with the marine commanders before he went out again.

And next time they went out, they'd be taking Teyla and Ronon with them. John wasn't going out without them.

In the back of his brain, little wheels turned, sparking off random thoughts. In the end, defeating this group had been too easy. Once they'd got them up here, everything had fallen into place so neatly...

John glanced back at the bay, wondering if he needed to oversee the clean-up or if Caldwell would be wanting a report immediately.

And he stopped, transfixed.

He hadn't seen it from the midst of the melee. He wasn't sure it was visible from any other angle, either. Their faces turned towards him, the glazed sheen of staring eyes visible through the long strands of their hair, accusing him.

Not him.

They fell with their faces to the foe...

He spun on his heel with sudden understanding. And Teyla's expression grew carefully remote under his gaze.

~oOo~

"All right," said Agent Greene, planting his hands down on the table in what he probably thought was a definitive manner, "Someone is going to tell me what just happened in there."

John would have preferred to have a private word with Teyla before this debriefing, but no sooner had he tried to broach the matter of what she'd done to the Wraith in the transporter bay than the IOA agent had collared them, his nostrils flaring white at the corners.

Caldwell had managed to pull it into one of the briefing rooms on the pretext of wishing for a report on the situation. But when they'd assembled, it was Greene who looked around the room, waiting for an answer.

John looked pointedly at Caldwell, sitting bland and urbane in the chair at the head of the briefing room table, opposite Greene.

"I should have thought it was obvious, Agent Greene," Caldwell said with deceptive mildness. "The searchers found one party of Wraith and dealt with them."

John slid his gaze over to Teyla, sitting diagonally across from him at the table, next to Ronon. She ignored his look. Had anyone else seen what he'd seen? If they had, would they work it out? Ronon would know, because he knew Teyla and what she could do. Rodney would guess, because he was Rodney and he had all the pieces.

Others...

Master Sergeant Ridgerton had the carefully wooden-faced look of an NCO keeping mum about something he didn't feel his superiors needed to know about. John appreciated the gesture, although it wasn't necessary. He and Caldwell didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but Caldwell had a soft spot for Teyla.

"By beaming them up into the ship!" Greene snapped. "A suggestion made by Ms. Emmagan, and which your security chief implemented after an agent of the IOA advised otherwise."

In the corner of the room, Bates didn't bat an eyelash, although John judged the man wasn't particularly pleased with his superior. And he might or might not have seen what happened before. If he had, the question was what he was going to do about it.

"We had the numerical advantage up here," said John flatly. "They were slaughtering us down on the ground."

"And they might have just as easily started slaughtering us up here! What if this ship had fallen into Wraith hands, Colonel Sheppard?"

"Unlikely." Caldwell leaned forward, his hands flat against the surface of the table. "My people aren't green troops, Agent Greene. They know what to expect from the Wraith by now."

"Your officer disobeyed an order from the IOA."

"Civilians," Ronon rumbled, then fell innocently quiet when Greene glared at him.

"A civilian agency," Caldwell said, not looking around as he echoed Ronon's word. "Admittedly, Agent Bates was once military himself, but he was since discharged and is no longer in the line of command. And the last time orders for this ship came through, they were address to me as captain of the Daedalus. The IOA does not command this ship, Agent Greene, I do."

John felt like cheering. Across the table, one corner of Teyla's mouth twitched, as though a smile had been quickly suppressed. Ronon didn't quite smirk openly; Rodney did.

Agent Greene either didn't notice or ignored it. John wasn't sure which.

"Yet your man took an alien's word--"

"My officer," Caldwell leaned on the possessive, "used his own good judgement in taking suggestion of someone knowledgeable in tactics against the Wraith. As it turned out, it was a good decision that saved the lives of Colonel Sheppard and many of his men. There was risk to it, yes, but it was calculated."

"I want it noted against his record that he risked this ship on the say-so of a civilian contractor with no stake in Earth's survival."

"You can note it if you want." The offhand way Caldwell said it suggested that the note would go unnoticed by anyone except another IOA member. "However, I didn't come here to play armchair quarterback, Agent Greene. I'm here to discuss what happens next. And the experience that I have with Ms. Emmagan and Mr. Dex says that we're best using our Pegasus contractors on the ground with the hunting parties."

"The IOA..."

"Is an advisory board that has marginal jurisdiction over the way I run my ship." Caldwell was like a steamroller, simply not letting the IOA agent get his words out. John was impressed. "It has a little more say in the Wraith-search presently taking place, but since it's my troops on the ground, I'm putting Teyla and Ronon on the ground and swinging the odds in favour of fewer of my people dead. Is that clear, Agent Greene?"

Greene wasn't pleased, but there wasn't anything he could do about it other than huff off, dragging Bates with him.

The former marine didn't seem pleased to be dragged off; he shot John an apologetic look on the way out. John acknowledged it with a nod. He didn't have a problem with Bates personally - other than the man's problem with Teyla - and if the guy could give Greene a reality check in any way, John wasn't going to stop him.

Caldwell waited until the doors sealed shut behind them. "That won't stop him for long. He'll just find someone higher up in the IOA who's sympathetic to him."

"Are there that many who do not trust us, then?"

"Not you, personally, Teyla," Caldwell said with a wry smile. "I don't know the specific politics of it, but it seems there's an element of discontent among some members over the US's control of the Stargate program for the last decade, and they're looking for any reason to take offence. Including the fact that the US allied itself with aliens when they weren't willing to ally with their fellow humans."

"Probably because the aliens don't stab people in the back." John blew out a breath. "All right, so Teyla and Ronon are going down with the next group?"

"When they deploy, which should be in about thirty minutes. Ridgerton?"

"I've mixed in a few old-timers with the younger ones," Garfield said, looking at Ronon then at Teyla. "They should be taking them through the bay now. Get a good look at what they're hunting."

"And the dangers," Ronon grunted, approvingly.

"They've also got orders to keep them on a short leash as well," Caldwell added. He looked at John. "No heroics."

Teyla spoke up before John could formulate a retort, turning Caldwell's attention her way. "Do we have the next location to hunt for the Wraith?"

"My people have put together some devices based on Dr. McKay's work - Marks thinks they should narrow the search down to several klicks."

"Still a lot of area," John mused.

"Yes, but they'll have Teyla with them," Rodney pointed out. "Speaking of which what did happen out there in the transporter bay?"

Silence fell on the room.

"Jeeze, Rodney," John began, rolling his eyes.

"No," Teyla interrupted him, her gaze holding his before she turned to Caldwell. "It is best if those present know. I asked Airman Santiago to beam up the entire group because I believed the Wraith would be easier to overcome if they were outnumbered. But when they were brought up, I could feel their minds against mine and it seemed...simple."

"It was a good move," John said.

"It saved the lives of a lot of men," added Caldwell, smoothly. "But I don't imagine it comes without a cost."

Teyla shrugged, her hands folded carefully in her lap, almost like a child being cautioned by a parent and dismissing the danger. Except it wasn't like Teyla to dismiss something like this. "That time it was not so difficult. I do not know what will happen with repeated use. It might prove...tiring."

"Which is why you won't be out there longer than two hours at a stretch." Caldwell looked at Ronon. "You, too. I've been charged by Homeworld Security to take very good care of you two, since you're among our best sources of knowledge and experience in dealing with the Wraith. Garfield's sending along ships officers, and you'll have Stargate-experienced personnel with each of your groups. They'll make sure that you're accorded the respect due your experience."

"Agent Bates mentioned other sites at which Wraith had been sighted," Teyla said after a moment. "What is being done for those locations?"

"Major Marks tells me we have the ship's systems set up to scan the areas we think there's Wraith activity, based on reports from the internet. I don't know the full results of that yet - we're also working with the SGC and several international space authorities - but we've got people looking at it, Teyla."

She nodded. "Yet not all your world has access to such networks, is it not true?"

"No." Caldwell looked grim. "We've got analysts and personnel at the SGC formulating ways to hunt down the Wraith who escape report. If you think of anything we might have missed, let us know. In the meantime, we'll start with what we have and work with what we've got. That begins with you and Ronon - and your gift." He glanced around. "I don't think we need to go into why the Wraith froze at that moment; I imagine that those who know about Teyla's gift will have the sense of keep their mouths shut--"

"That's a good imagination," Rodney muttered. Then he looked defensive when everyone glared at him. "What? People gossip!"

"Another reason I want you two out there with the search parties," Caldwell said. "Other than adding skills we need, it'll give the troops a chance to see you in action."

And that would shut down the worst of the rumours about Teyla - and probably any lingering doubts people had about Ronon, too.

Caldwell looked around. "Anything else?" When there was no answer, he nodded. "Very well. "Garfield, I want a summary of the searches - how many we had out, who we lost. Make sure we've got reports of how it went down out in the field. Colonel, you, Dr. McKay, Major Lorne, and Lieutenant Park are wanted at a debriefing with Homeworld Security in an hour. I gather General O'Neill wants your opinion on how things went down there and how we can be more effective in hunting the Wraith."

"Yes, sir."

Caldwell paused at the door. "And Sheppard?"

"Sir?"

The austere face didn't quite smile as he looked John over. "Take the time to clean up."

~oOo~

John waited to speak with Teyla until Ronon had snagged Rodney on the pretext of some discussion about how to deal with the American military. Rodney's grumbles that Ronon already knew how to deal with the American military went unheeded as Ronon dragged him away.

Thank God for team-mates who didn't need to have it spelled out for them.

"This way," he said, tugging at Teyla's sleeve to draw her in his direction.

They started down the long route to the transporter bay instead of the shorter one they'd been taking.

"I am fine, John."

"I know." And he did. But he wanted... Well, he wasn't sure he could put it into words. To know that she was safe - as safe as she could be hunting the Wraith. To be sure that she was looking after herself and that the people around them were keeping an eye out for her, too. To reassure her that whatever elements of the IOA thought in their small-minded xenophobia, he wasn't going to let it affect her effectiveness against the Wraith here on Earth.

Trying to find the words to explain all this, he barely heard Teyla's sigh. What he felt was her fingers on his flak vest and the dig of the webbing into his shoulders as she yanked him into a side room. The door slid shut as she dragged his mouth down to hers and their teeth met in a jaw-jarring click.

John grunted, off-balance and startled. One hand fumbled behind him, seeking a steadying handhold. The other grabbed for her nape - just in case this was a temporary ploy to get his attention.

She certainly had it. Undivided. Her mouth moved invitingly under his, tongue stroking his lips, the tilt of her head inviting him to deepen the kiss. John let himself temporarily forget that he was sticky from his hunt and she was due to head out in less than twenty minutes, even that a janitor's closet on the Daedalus was not his idea of a good place for sex at any time.

Still, when she tilted her head back to break the kiss, John nearly protested.

"I do not think this is an appropriate location," Teyla said with a smile at his grunt of disappointment. "And we have other places to be."

"You pulled me in here!"

"I did." The limpid curve of her mouth made him think about going in for a second round. Briefly. "I do not need you hovering, John. I am well. You are well." Her eyes skimmed over him, almost possessively, and he swallowed hard and focused on what had concerned him before..

"Look, you seemed...shocked. When I saw you in the transporter bay. Like...I don't know. Like you'd never seen dead Wraith before."

She stepped away. Not far, since there wasn't much space in the tiny room, but enough to put physical distance between them. For her or for him? John wondered.

"I did not think I possessed the strength to do that. To control them."

"You controlled the Queen in the Wraith cloning facility. And deceived the Queen in the deep-sea facility."

"Yes. But I was then pregnant with Torren. Later, when Todd...when he asked for my assistance in negotiating a Wraith alliance, Jennifer helped turn me into the semblance of a Wraith Queen."

"I remember." Days of surgery and modifications, then days of training in Wraith customs on board Todd's ship, then days playing the Wraith Queen for an audience who would kill her if she failed. While John, Rodney, and Ronon paced and wondered and feared and waited.

"The appearance was only part of it, John. What I had - what Todd needed of me - was my gift."

"The Wraith gene."

"Yes."

"And you're worried because...? You're not Wraith, Teyla."

"Am I not?" She drew herself up, small and slim and proud in the narrow space. As her chin lifted, John felt the gut punch as her gaze fixed on him, piercing as any Wraith Queen's stare and just as arresting. "The Wraith out there believed so. So much so that I could command them to freeze and they obeyed though it cost them their lives."

"They were surprised. That was all."

Delicate brows rose in sceptical query. "The Queen I met with during Todd's negotiations believed me kin rather than kine. So did the Wraith aboard Todd's ship, and those aboard the ship where he handled the negotiations. My appearance was nothing more than a seeming, but it would not have been sufficient to dress, say, Jennifer up as a Wraith Queen. What Todd needed to complete his charade - that was all my own, John, even before I knew the origins of my gift."

"What are you saying? That you're Wraith?" John reached down, took her hand - the one which, if she'd been a Queen would have had the feeding slit in it. He ran his thumb along the warm skin there, unbroken and smooth. "You'll never get me to believe that, Teyla. Or anyone else who knows you."

She looked from their hands up to his face, her expression grave. "I am saying that I do not believe there has ever been like to me before - a human woman who possessed the Gift and who has used it as I have. And it is not...comfortable to know that. To think of myself as something different, something...other."

He thought he began to catch a glimmer of what she was saying as she continued.

"I am not wholly human, John. This is not like your Ancient gene. The gene interfaces your will with the technology; without the Ancient devices you are still human as both our people understand it." Her eyes searched his face. "Do you know anyone on Earth who would say that the ability to control others with only their thoughts is human? Even in your comic books, those with such abilities do not believe they are human, but something else."

"But they're still people," John began. And stopped as he realised what she was saying.

"Yes," Teyla said softly. "The Wraith are people, too. And that is a difficult thing for me to know."

"Old hurts die hard." Didn't he know that only too well?

John squeezed her hand again, knowing that there was no easy answer for what she was going through and that if there was, Teyla wouldn't take it.

In the moment before he tried to offer her an answer that might help her, their earpieces squawked. "Teyla, this is Sergeant Farrell in the transporter bay. Your squadron's nearly assembled and are just waiting on you to come before you're to be sent out again.."

Teyla glanced up at John, her expression rueful. "I am on my way, Sergeant Farrell."

He was surprised when her fingers closed in his vest again, pulling him down for another kiss - a longer, slower one now, full of promise and an ache that hollowed out John's gut. He, in turn, made sure that Teyla wasn't about to walk out of here without being very thoroughly farewelled.

This time, it was she who made the noise of protest when he lifted his head.

John couldn't quite hide his grin as he shut the closet door behind them.

It didn't last long.

Every step down the downlit corridors of the ship reminded John where they were headed - where Teyla was going when she reached the transporter bay. He wouldn't stand in her way or try to protect her, but his concern wasn't like a tap he could just turn off.

And he had no answer for her ambivalence about the nature of the Wraith. The Athosians saw human life as precious and valuable in a culture where death was so common. For Teyla to view the Wraith as people - even if not human - was a big mindset adjustment.

He couldn't give her an easy answer. He could give her one that might suffice to ease her mind a little. "Would you feel sympathy for them if that one reaching for me had drained me?"

"No." Her answer was immediate and sure. Realisation followed hard on its heels. And the smile not far behind both was wry. "You have experience in this."

"All our wars have been against other humans," John said, and couldn't return her smile.

Dust and blood and bodies lying like rag dolls in the ruins of the houses they'd been shown into just the other day, where they'd drunk tea and chatted to the locals... But that was a memory better left unrecollected.

He stepped to the side to allow a marine to pass them in the narrowing corridor and took that moment to compose himself. "It's...not something to be proud of."

"Us or them." She looked sad. "No in-between. Uneasy truce at best."

"It would never last," John said as they approached the transporter bay.

"No." She looked up at him with a peculiar pain in her eyes. "They are Wraith."

"Teyla." He caught her arm just before they reached the proximity that would open the doors ahead of them. "You're not Wraith."

Her smile was brief and polite - what Ronon called her 'trader's smile'. "Perhaps."

John let her go when she pulled gently away, and stood there a moment. Uncertainty gnawed at him, a brief hollow in his gut. Then he followed her into the transporter bay.

It was busier than he'd expected. Busy, John thought, as in nearly frantic. Even as he watched, Ronon strode in with a troop of men standing in the transporter zone and gave the technician a terse nod. With a flash of light, his group vanished, beamed down to the surface of the planet below.

Teyla was over by the transporter bay, her brows drawn together as she said something to a Lieutenant John recognised from Atlantis, and a burly man wearing a Daedalus sergeant's patches.

He crossed over to them. "Problem?"

"Located a nest of Wraith - Ronon's team is moving in to deal with it, and they're all equipped with stunners this time. We're still waiting on one man."

"Leave without him and have him reprimanded."

"Unfortunately, we can't, sir. It's an IOA agent. Caldwell said he'd be down in a moment."

John looked at Teyla who shrugged. "I expect this is the compromise that the IOA has wrested from Colonel Caldwell."

"An agent is just going to slow you down."

Teyla's eyes slid beyond him and became careful and flat. "I do not think this one will."

John knew who he'd see even before he turned to look Bates in the eye.

Dressed in the familiar green BDUs and flak jacket, for a moment, it looked as though the former Marine sergeant had never left the military at all. John felt a moment's regret that the man had never managed to get past his dislike of Teyla. Other than that continuing zealotry in the face of other evidence, John had never had reason to complain of his service.

"Agent Bates."

"Colonel. I promise to take care of Teyla." The lean on the words 'take care of' was deliberate, John was sure. As was the direction of the statement at John.

He smiled, flat and hard and not entirely nice. Bates wasn't under his command anymore, and John didn't have to play fair. "Teyla can look after herself, Bates. As you probably remember."

"I'll keep it in mind, sir." One hand waved at the transporter bay. "Shall we?"

John would have liked to say something to Teyla - something encouraging and reassuring. Sanity asserted itself and he just nodded and kept well clear of the safety line as she and the other three men crossed over to the troops.

She turned to face John, and her smile was brief and warm - all the acknowledgement she would give him in this room full of strangers.

Then the transporter beam washed over them, and they were gone.

~oOo~

Teyla's world devolved into missions. Up on the Daedalus and the Hammond, the line between day and night blurred, and she lost track of time. One week passed, then two, perhaps. It was hard to tell, and her internal sense of time was set to other places, other planets. She slept, she ate, she sparred against Ronon while the marines cheered them on. She watched Rodney and the other techs scan the planet for signs of Wraith and knew that the hollows beneath their eyes were matched by her own weariness. She walked with John through the corridors of the Daedalus and held herself apart from him. If she had no need to prove herself the equal of any man here, neither did she wish to add to the presumptions that they held about her - a woman, an alien, exotic, strange, and sexy.

She touched the minds of the Wraith again and again and again, felt their minds reach for hers in stunned surprise only to halt in unthinking obedience to a Queen.

She felt them die.

They clawed at her in those last moments, bewildered and confused by her presence - a Queen and yet not a Queen. And the one question they repeated over and over again rebounded within her skull behind her eyes where no-one could see.

What are you?

Teyla had no answer they would understand. She was not sure she had an answer for herself.

The hunting missions were not her only task. Several times the IOA requested her presence at one of their meetings, and she gave them briefs on the situation in Pegasus, the ways that Earth might help. But with every meeting, she saw their eyes deaden a little more to the plight of her people. They would take and take and take and never give back, so long as their own children should never die beneath a Wraith's hungry hand.

"You don't have to do this," John told her before he saw her off to her room one night. Rodney had already said as much, his technology capable of pinpointing the Wraith adequately enough that the troops might know what they were looking for. Colonel Caldwell had murmured it the other day when he walked with her from the bridge to the officer's mess, his concern clear beneath his austerity.

"They're Wraith," was all Ronon said the one time she questioned it herself. And she understood his meaning as only someone from Pegasus could.

The days blurred, one into the next, and she fell asleep missing her son's weight in her arms and rose to be sent out on another mission.

*Who are you?*

Panting in the sodden air of a jungle in the Congo, Teyla did not expect to have her thoughts gripped in a vice. Feminine and powerful, stretching deep, reaching high, the mental hold startled her enough that she stumbled.

"Teyla?"

There were hands on her arms and she shook them off, disdaining their assistance. *I am Steelflower, of the lineage of Night. Who are you?*

She used the lineage Todd had taught her during those days on his ship, learning how to behave as a Queen of his people, felt the Queen's mind against hers, close and deadly as a lover, and sensed again that encompassing strength. A mental image of a stand of trees came to her - drier climates, cooler weather, and the thick trunks that speared straight and tall into the sky and sent deep roots into the ground below. *Goldenroot*, said the Queen, *of the lineage of Gryphon. My men say you are surrounded by the kine? They have taken you prisoner?*

Teyla swallowed as she looked around at the men surrounding her.

To a Wraith Queen, this would be imprisonment. To Teyla...

She turned to look at the twenty or so men who had become her 'team' when they went out on these missions. Colonel Caldwell had decided it was best for the same group to go out with Teyla regularly, and so she had become familiar with these men, with their habits and their idiosyncrasies. From Airman Lewis, who couldn't start a sentence without starting it twice, to Airman Lu who related every conflict to something he'd seen in the World Wrestling Federation. Twenty or so men - "Teyla's Twenty," Ronon had said, smiling as though it was a joke of some kind.

Perhaps it was. But they were the only hunting group who'd never yet had a man die out in the field. And that was because of her and no other.

Agent Bates' arched a brow at her as her gaze fell on him. "What is it?"

"A Wraith Queen," she said softly and saw his eyes widen. He had not been in Atlantis when the Wraith Queen had come to oversee Michael's alliance. He'd never been taken to see the Keeper in the bowels of the hive when they'd been culled n that first day the Lanteans had come to Athos. That had been his commander's fate - to be drained by Wraith hand and killed by John's. "She thinks I am a prisoner to you."

*They have taken my males, * she told the Queen. *I am alone with them.*

It was true in a manner of speaking. Teyla's team were not here, watching her back, guarding her six. And the Queen would feel that truth, would feel Teyla's difference among the marines of the Daedalus who were good men but were not those Teyla was most comfortable among.

"Where are they?" Bates was asking.

Teyla held up a hand for silence, knowing she was asking much and risking more. They had reached a truce of sorts in the last few weeks. Agent Bates did not demean her with his accusations, but she could feel his gaze upon her at all times when they were down here. A warning, she suspected, that she would not escape with her life if she thought to betray them.

Once it had angered her that he could think such of her. Now, with the experience and knowledge of years, she no longer cared. He was not important to her, nor was his opinion key to anyone she considered important to her.

*You are one of those who came late to this journey? I did not know that any others of Osprey's line had come with the Great Hive, * murmured Goldenroot thoughtfully. *There were only nine of us to start. But if it is as you say... My males are hungry, * she said and Teyla felt a sudden aching hunger in the feeding hand she did not have. *They will welcome fresh food. Your hands are tied?*

*Of course, * Teyla said, feigning surprise.

*They are strong-willed, these children of Atlantis, * said the other Queen with sympathy - and a hint of smugness. *I do not wonder that you could not free yourself. My blades will fall upon your party beyond the next hill. Be ready for them.*

"They are beyond the next hill, preparing an ambush for us," she said.

"She told you her location?" Sergeant Ainsley asked disbelievingly. "Like a feint or something?"

Teyla shook her head. "She believes you hold me prisoner and gave the information as one Queen to another." Her gaze challenged Bates who was looking at her with the familiar suspicious glitter in his eyes. "I suggest a counter-ambush."

It had been difficult to explain how Teyla could do what she did - made easier by Master Sergeant Garfield's selection of men for the team. He had deliberately chosen those who were resourceful and intelligent and not prone to gossip to accompany her in the field. Lieutenant Amir-Parvez and Sergeant Ainsley's familiarity with her helped - their trust of her and their easy familiarity were the mainstays of the campaign to have her accepted among the marines.

Colonel Caldwell's determination that the same group of men would be permanently assigned to Teyla's group had helped to quell the rumours further, and once they went out in the field and returned, day after day, with no deaths and no injuries, the marines were more than willing to keep their mouths shut against the pestering of their colleagues.

There were rumours, of course. No-one spoke them out loud, to which Teyla attributed the gossip which had spread through the ship following her sound defeat of Ronon at staves. And when one of the marines claimed it a hoax, she invited him to come out on the floor and face her.

Rodney claimed it was the addition of the blindfold which convinced the marines there was something freaky about Teyla. Either way, her reputation was made, and if the men of her twenty found it strange what she could do, they were practical and sensible and were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth if it meant they'd find the Wraith on Earth with less chance of dying or being injured in the process.

"Right." Agent Bates glanced around at the men standing around, listening to the conversation as they scanned the thick foliage. "I think we'll need backup for this one. Bender?"

"On it, sir." Agent Bates had communications with the Daedalus, as did Teyla, Sergeant Ainsley, and Lieutenant Amir-Parvez; but for most communications, they went through the man assigned as their communications specialist. "Daedalus, this is Teyla's group calling in from the Congo. Come in, Daedalus."

Ainsley already had a map of the area out. "This ridge runs for several klicks north," he said, pointing out their locations on the map. "From the terrain, it looks like the best place for an ambush would be around here." His finger circled a spot on the map. "Do you know how many there are, ma'am?"

"I do not, Sergeant. Eleven is the usual complement."

"Too many," Bates muttered as he frowned at the map. "Lieutenant?"

"If we can get the Daedalus to beam in behind the Wraith, we could take them by surprise. Bender?"

"I can't get through to the Daedalus, sir."

Heads turned. "What?" Bates touched his earpiece almost at the same time as Teyla did. "Daedalus, this is Agent Bates with Teyla's group. Come in."

After a moment, he shook his head. "Not getting anything back."

Teyla listened, but she was not even getting the ping-back signal. "I cannot raise them."

They looked around at each other, the enormity of the situation suddenly coming upon them.

"So," said Sergeant Ainsley after a moment, "I guess this changes things."

"We've gone up against nearly this many males before," said one of the troop, a bright-eyed young man from the American Midwest. "We can take them!"

"Can you do that brainfreeze thing you do?" Amir-Parvez asked her.

"No." Teyla knew it was not the answer they wished to hear but she could not give it otherwise. "Because there is another Queen present - and one to whom these males owe loyalty - they will resist any compulsion I put upon them."

"You can't overpower her?"

"Not here," she said, and omitted to say that she had met only two Wraith Queens in her time with the Lanteans, and that the first had defeated her, while the second had been killed by Todd. There were some things they did not need to know.

"Right." Ainsley exhaled. "Well, you'll do what you can, Teyla and we'll try to carry the rest. Lieutenant, Bates, you got any ideas?"

Amir-Parvez shrugged, but his eyes scanned the jungle around them. "If Teyla's pretending to be a prisoner, we're going to have to keep moving or they'll work out something's not right."

"And walk into an ambush?"

"Do we have any alternatives?" Lieutenant Amir-Parvez glanced around. "So we'll move. Outer scouts relay back if they hear or think they hear anything. Teyla, since you're our prisoner, you're in the middle of the group."

"If Teyla's a prisoner, shouldn't her hands be tied?" Bates asked with gentle malice.

"When they lay eyes upon me, they will know I am not a Queen in any case," Teyla said with more sharpness than she intended. His opinion was not important, but he could still needle her. "And I will die drained of life, just as you will."

"Right." If the Lieutenant was aware of Agent Bates' history of animosity towards Teyla, he behaved as though everything was fine. "We've only got an advantage until we're eyes-on."

"Which makes planning as we go even more risky," Ainsley remarked. "Not that we have a choice."

They started to move, more wary now than they had been before. Bates paused beside her, and Teyla looked up at him, questioning his proximity.

"Can you defeat a Queen?"

"Face to face, perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

Stung by his tone, she nevertheless kept her voice even. "I will not know until we meet."

"Great."

Then they were on the move, Teyla in the midst of them, her thoughts both open and carefully closed. If the Queen or her blades came seeking her mind, they should find her apprehensive, wary, unnerved in the midst of the human party. She would preserve the illusion as long as she could, that the marines might have time to prepare themselves for this uneven battle.

Stray words caught her attention in the planning of the counter-ambush.

"...does it take to kill a Queen anyway? Colonel Sheppard said those things can control your mind..."

"We cannot kill her," Teyla said. It was only when they stared at her that she realised what she had said, how it might sound. "She will know where the other Queens are on Earth."

"Can't you just take it from her mind?"

"If she can't overpower one in the field, she's not going to be able to do a hostile mental takeover, Airman." Ainsley frowned. "Okay, we'll try to take her alive, but given what they can do, it mightn't be an option, ma'am."

Teyla nodded, accepting that fact. "Trying is enough."

She listened to their plans but had nothing else to offer in the discussion. They knew their work better than she did, even if she understood it well enough from her time on John's team. Once the Wraith were attacking them, their best hope was to hole in and return fire.

And when it came time, that was exactly what they did.

The first stunner blast hit one of the foremost marines - a burly man by the name of Aarons. He went down as though poleaxed, and around her, the others spun to shelter, ducking behind trees and logs. A hand in her vest dragged her back behind a tree root, and she frowned at Agent Bates' rough handling of her.

"If they're expecting you to be a prisoner, we should treat you like one."

"Eyes-on," Teyla reminded him. "And I trust that the treatment would not extend so far as shooting me?"

Bates bared white teeth at her. "Only if you cause trouble."

She snorted at that, but remained down. Her best hope was not to be seen by the Wraith at all, but to keep the charade going until the last moment.

Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline a familiar fuel to her heart rate as she listened to the men returning fire. Sporadic, careful as they tried to conserve their fire for real targets and not merely the ones they would see in their heads.

Teyla closed her eyes and carefully reached out with her mind to find the Wraith around them. Their minds burned bright in her consciousness, the penetrating focus of their thoughts clear in two things: the pacification of the humans who cowered below them in the jungle greenery, and the rescue of the Queen who had been captured among them. Beneath it burned the fire of loyalty and obedience to the Queen who commanded them - Goldenroot, whose strength they had all served for a thousand years and more.

Teyla did nothing more than brush that consciousness, trusting that their focus would hold and that she would not be caught 'intruding' in their mind. She was nothing more than a ghost, a flickering shadow in the night, a momentary wisp of fog - here now but gone as soon as one waved one's hand...

"Two of them," she said softly and pointed in the direction she felt. "Up on the hill..."

It was instinct that flung her to the side, just as the stunner shot slammed into the tree root. She felt the force of its blast as it passed, as though a small punch had just skimmed her arm.

Agent Bates swore and started firing, and she brought up her own weapon and began firing.

"Aren't you supposed to be a prisoner?"

Teyla had forgotten. Still, she rallied. "They are expecting a Wraith," she said. "A human woman firing back will not cause them concern."

Bates snorted. "If you say so."

She could hear the shouts of the rest of the troops beyond the tree root, but not see their status. "Sergeant Ainsley?"

"Sorry, Teyla. Busy."

But still alive. Teyla shifted carefully around, her eyes on the ridge from which she judged the Wraith viewpoint had come... *There!*

She fired twice, saw Bates follow her gaze and similarly concentrate his fire there. A moment later, one of the minds faded in death, his companion's bitter thoughts echoing loudly for all to hear.

Teyla narrowed her eyes as she regarded the ridge. She had never done this before - not under such circumstances, never like this. But if she did not try, she would never know...

It was much the same as what she had done before - freezing the thoughts of the Wraith, that one moment in which she struck and their thoughts drained away beneath her grip like water off a plastic sheet pulled up by the centre. Still, this required a greater finesse, and a more careful touch. She did not dare risk disturbing the others or the Queen, of giving any indication that the 'Queen' they sought to save was nothing of the sort.

She thought of it as threading metal hooks into a weaving, careful and slow, until she had them firmly embedded in his mind. One yank, like a trap snapping closed and he was hers.

A moment later, his head popped up over the edge of the ridge, careless of his safety. A scatter of shots from Agent Bates' weapon and his head exploded in a shattered mess of bone fragment and brain matter. Swiftly, Teyla unhooked her mind, and let his thoughts bleed into darkness.

She swallowed back the urge to vomit, and blocked out the regret she felt at his death, at what she had done.

It was not in her to sympathise with the Wraith - how could she when her life and the lives of her people had been spent running from them and the death they brought with them? But if she could not regret their deaths, she could regret what they were, what must be done in the name of survival. If the Lanteans were taught to hate their enemy even as their religions said to love them, Teyla was not inducted into such thinking. That the Wraith had to die went without question; but having felt their deaths, it was not without its own pain of sorts.

Teyla was not sure that this was something she could share with John. Certainly, she would never share it with Agent Bates, his expression grim as he called the Daedalus again, trying to make contact with the silent ship.

The firing died down, and reports were coming in - snatches of conversation over the earpieces, men stunned and down but not dead - the Wraith did not want them dead at a distance. Wraith shot down, injured, wounded, occasionally dead.

But no sign of the Queen.

Bates moved cautiously around the trunk of the tree. "Lieutenant?"

"We're holding position," came the reply over the earpieces. "I don't think we've shot half as many as we-- Christ!"

Teyla turned, hearing that shout through air and earpiece both.

Time slowed.

Gunfire, wild and scattered. Shouts of alarm mingled with the snarl of Wraith. Someone's scream. And the sudden searching sweep of the Queen's mind looking for Teyla. Down on the ground, and close...

She swept around the trunk of the tree, her skirts swirling with her movement, boots stepping trimly in the soft soil. Her hair was the base colour of the deepest bluestone rock, her skin a stark white marked with intricately swirling tattoos.

The pulse of her weapon caught Bates full in the belly, and he collapsed where he'd stood, later fodder for the Wraith. But the Queen paid no attention to him.

Beauty and terror and authority - Regina Glorianna - and Teyla felt the power of her mind as she stared into snake-gold eyes.

*You? * The Queen's eyes narrowed. *But you are not--*

*No, * Teyla agreed. And struck hard and deep, twisting through mental defences as a upstreamer fish twists through the rocks on its way to the mating grounds - for her very survival and the survival of others.

She saw the meetings of the Queens, the prowling uncertainties of old alliances broken, new alliances made. The Queen whose clevermen had located Earth, the promises of bountiful feasts on its unwitting billions, those who had stood for the journey and those who had only sent their males, rather than coming to face the troubles themselves.

Just as she had planted mental hooks in the mind of the male up on the ridge, Teyla wielded a mental blade through the twists and turns of the Queen's thoughts, peeling her back in delicate layers until what she needed was laid bare.

And in that laying open, she felt the Queen reaching through the layers of her own mind - seeking to understand what stood before her.

The recoil was like a blow across the face.

*Abomination! * The word hissed through her mind like poison, loathing and anger, revulsion and distaste, and a ferocious hatred of what Teyla was, what she represented.

*I am what I am, * she replied, cold and controlled as she closed her mental grip around that fiery hatred, and cast the Queen out of her mind. "As you are what you are."

"You should not exist!"

The Queen lifted her weapon, and Teyla scrambled for her sidearm. She had not thought to draw it, trusting to her Wraith gene if it came to a defence. Stupid and over-confident!

Once more, she stabbed deep into Goldenroot's mind, burrowing fierce and fast into her thoughts, trying to find a way to stave off the coming death. But the Queen's mind had no places in it where Teyla's hooks could find purchase, and her attempts at control slid away.

The barrel of the stunner pointed directly at her.

Teyla looked her death in the face and regretted that she would not see her son again.

A hail of weapons fire stitched dark blots across the pale of the Queen's dress. She folded up as though she had been collapsed by an invisible hand. Teyla felt her thoughts flow away like water, even as the Queen's eyes latched upon her.

Abomination...

She dragged her eyes from the Queen's over to Agent Bates where he lay, the P-90 drooping in his hands, even as she watched.

"Thank you."

His lips twisted as though he already regretted saving her life.. "You're welcome."

~oOo~

Rodney scowled at his tablet, as though glaring at it could change the data showing there. He knew it wouldn't happen, but it made him feel better

"Four queens... Teyla, are you sure?"

It was a rather large group crowding in the briefing room - Rodney's team-mates, Caldwell and his senior officers, the leaders of all the search teams, and the IOA agents. All the important people, said his inner voice. Although he'd put a question mark over the IOA agents. Sure, Bates had saved Teyla's life out there in the Congo, but he hadn't seemed any friendlier towards her when they got back upstairs.

Teyla was sitting at the table, her hands folded calmly on the wood veneer. Knowing Teyla, it might be a pose, or she might really be that serene inside. Sheppard or Ronon would have known for sure, but Rodney could guess from long acquaintance.

Right now, Teyla was edgy and unnerved and hiding it beneath a calm front.

"No," she said. "That is the number that I took from the Queen's mind. However, she intimated that she did not know all the Queens in the hive - she would not have accepted my presence as an unknown, else."

"Well, that's one down," Colonel Caldwell said, his fingers resting against each other thoughtfully.

"Yeah, only three to go." The sarcasm made him feel a little better, made him a little less worried about what might be happening down on the ground. One of the Queens was up at the Canadian-American border, and as soon as he got out of here, Rodney was going to place a call to Jeannie and let her know there were life-sucking alien vampires on the loose and to keep Maddie in sight at all times.

It wasn't as though she didn't have clearance, although explaining it to Caleb would probably be fun.

But now he was itching for this briefing to end, so he could call Jeannie and tell her what was happening and make sure that she hadn't done something stupid like, oh, getting fed on by a random Wraith.

"One less than there was yesterday," growled Ronon, pacing back and forth in a very distracting way. Rodney had already asked him to stop pacing several times during the meeting, and the Satedan had just shrugged and kept circling, like a shark waiting to see what its prey would do.

"We know where the other three were set down," Teyla pointed out, her tone very reasonable.

"That's more than we've had before." John looked at Caldwell, "Permission to take a team down to get the first Queen?"

"Hold on a minute, Colonel."

"Oh, for God's sake, what is it now?" Rodney demanded, exasperated.

"We're trusting a lot to Ms. Emmagan's intel. How do we know it's even accurate?"

"Are you saying Teyla's lying?"

Agent Greene didn't back down, although Ronon's glare had to be enough to unnerve anyone - especially coming on top of Caldwell's raised brow, and John's scowl. "I'm saying we don't know that the Queen was telling her the truth!"

"We know it is the truth because she did not tell me this information," Teyla said calmly before anyone could leap in. "I took it from her mind, unwilling."

"And you don't think that the Wraith have trained in mind games?"

"And you're such an expert on the Wraith now?" Rodney demanded.

"I'm trying to keep lives from being wasted! This intel is unverifiable, and from a questionable source!"

"You mean Teyla?" Rodney asked. He figured someone had to say it and it might as well be him. It wasn't as though the IOA could kick him off the project.

"I meant the Wraith Queen." Agent Greene said stiffly.

"I'm sure you did." Rodney said, not bothering to disguise his cynicism. It wasn't as though it was much of a secret that the IOA had been trying to discredit Teyla since day one of this search. He didn't get why From what he'd heard of the IOA talks, she'd acquitted herself pretty well. It was Teyla, after all. She was used to failing at tuttleroot soup one day, and trading for the winter's Whether the IOA was moved to let them all go back to Pegasus with Atlantis was another question.

Oh, sure, there were a few guys who looked askance at her, but she seemed about as well-accepted as any non-military person was going to get in this place.

"The only way we're going to find out if the intel is true is to take a group down and check it out." Colonel Caldwell swung back and forth in his chair a little, like he was restless. "And if Teyla judges it's worth pursuing, I'll be happy to take her word for it."

"The Queens are the centre of Wraith society," Teyla said after a moment. "The males would continue without a Queen in any case, but the Queens are a goad to them - you would not wish even one to roam free on Earth."

"We'll call for volunteers," John said. "At least one site looks like it might be far enough from civilisation that we can use drones on it. That's one less to worry about. The other two we'll just have to hunt."

"And what are the losses going to be from this?" Agent Greene demanded. "The Queens are stronger than the males, capable of controlling a man according to reports. And now she's telling us that the males are more dangerous with a Queen behind them?"

"Better than the losses if they reached the nearest towns and fed," growled Ronon. "Or if they reproduced, or found someone to back them up--"

"Who'd support the Wraith?" Greene demanded.

"The Goa'uld Ba'al found the Trust."

"The Wraith feed on humans! Even the Trust isn't that suicidal."

The guy was missing the point entirely. And was wrong to boot. "They also give life to their worshippers," Rodney retorted. "Life stolen from the people they drained. Eternal life - eternal youth."

He was sorry he had to mention the Wraith's gift of life when John flinched. He'd never asked and Sheppard had never offered, but Rodney knew it wasn't a pleasant memory - couldn't be, even if it had brought them a whole slew of advantages in the form of the on-and-off alliance with Todd. But it had to be said. It had to be laid out there, the reason why they were going after the Queens.

Did he think it was crazy to be going after a Queen and her retinue? Yes! And not just one, but three. But it had to be done. The longer they left them, the more time the Wraith would have to dig in, and then they'd never get them out.

"Dr. McKay's right." Caldwell said, failing to add that Rodney was always right. "If you didn't care where it came from, you could live forever by supporting the Wraith."

"Someone will always cut a deal of other people's lives in exchange for their own," said Ronon, and Rodney didn't wince but saw John grimace.

"Yeah, well, maybe they would where you come from--"

"Oh, you did not just say that!" Rodney exploded. "Are you nuts?"

"I'm saying that nobody on Earth would be that stupid..."

"Of course they would be," John snapped. "They're human, just as Ronon's people were, just as Teyla's people are. It's always possible to find someone willing to betray everyone else in exchange for their life and the lives of others."

Caldwell slapped his hands down on the table, effectively ending the conversation. "People." He waited for silence, looking pointedly at the IOA agent until he was sure there'd be no more interruptions. "This search is going ahead. I have my orders from Homeworld Security to confirm the locations of all the Wraith signatures we've found. General O'Neill would like us, if possible, to root out and destroy any Wraith nests. Those remain our primary objectives by whatever means are available to us. And yes," he said to the IOA head agent as Greene began to object. "It will cost lives. But that's what this taskforce is here for."

"An ounce of prevention," someone muttered.

"Exactly. Teyla, Agent Bates, you and your team did well against the Queen. Any tips you can give the outgoing teams against other Queens would be welcome." Caldwell held up a hand when John opened his mouth. "I know there's the argument for Teyla being assigned to the outgoing search parties, but I'm more worried about wearing Teyla out at this point. She and her team are due for downtime and they are going to get it."

"And the Wraith Queen?"

"We can do recon on the surrounding areas to begin with," said Caldwell mildly. "Colonel Sheppard, my officers tell me we'll be over the first site in thirty. Have your team ready to deploy." John nodded and stopped swinging his chair from side to side. "Mr. Dex, your group are standby backup, but we'll be within beaming distance of the second site in two hours."

Ronon's grin was evil. The kind that promised a world of trouble and hurt for any Wraith that happened to cross his path.

"I don't need to remind you that this is a reconnaissance mission, not an assault on the Wraith nest."

Ronon's shrug suggested he knew exactly what it was, and there were no guarantees. Rodney rolled his eyes. Sometimes it seemed crazy that Ronon had ever been in a formal military - even if the Sateda military wasn't as rigid as the US military, he couldn't see a whole platoon of Ronon types running arou-- Well, actually, he had met Ronon's friends. And seen them betray Ronon - twice in Tyre's case. So maybe...

"All right. If there's nothing else...?"

Everyone moved out the instant Caldwell closed the meeting, and Rodney scooped up his tablet and hurried after John who was flagging Ronon down into one of the side corridors. He spared a glance for Teyla as she rose stiffly from her chair, but she shook her head briefly at him, and he figured that she was okay enough.

"...bringing in the bodies to analyse what we could use against them," Sheppard was saying softly when Rodney caught up with them. They hadn't even gone very far into the next corridor - just enough so they could see people coming both ways, but couldn't be overheard from around the corner. "I think someone suggested the humanifying retrovirus - just to disorient them before... Well."

"Beckett won't like that."

"Beckett shut down the idea," said John. "Not that we could have anyway - we don't have the components of Wraith chemistry we had the first time..."

Ronon bared his teeth. "There's Todd."

"He's in stasis." It had been the only thing Sheppard could do for the Wraith to keep him from being experimented on by the IOA.

"So defrost him." Ronon shrugged when John gave him the look of 'not gonna happen, buddy'. "A guy can hope."

"Anyway, I think we're going to need something more when we're hunting the Queens."

"Such as?"

"Well, Teyla would be a good start."

"Yeah, and that's not likely to happen," said Rodney, coming into the conversation. "Besides, she's not looking too good back there. Has she been getting enough sleep?"

John looked defensive when both men turned to him. "Hey, that's not my fault. It's not as though we've been getting any time together." Then, softer and more reluctant, he admitted, "She's not sleeping well. The searches and the IOA presentations are wearing her down."

"So how do we end this fast?" Ronon asked.

Rodney and John exchanged glances.

"Find the Wraith," said John.

"Get the IOA to announce Atlantis is going back?" Rodney shrugged. "Although I don't have an argument with finding the Wraith, too. Look, I've gotta go make a call to Jeannie." And maybe one to Jennifer, too, although he wasn't going to say that in front of Ronon. "Half an hour?"

"More than enough time, so long as you don't start arguing with Jeannie," said John with a slight smirk. "Oh, and say hi for us."

Rodney rolled his eyes. Right after they'd saved the world, Rodney had taken a trip up to Canada to see Jeannie, Maddie, and Caleb, and Sheppard had invited the rest of the team along to camp out in the backyard. Which had its good and bad points because, really? Camping out in the backyard? But Rodney had felt better with John and Teyla and Ronon around - like he had backup if things got out of hand.

Not that he'd ever said that to Jeannie, of course. I mean, sure, they were family, but still...

Rodney headed off to make his calls.

~oOo~

Two recon missions went down without so much as a peep. They came, they saw, they took records, they got the hell out of dodge, and the Wraith never so much as seemed to notice they were there.

The third one turned into hell, halfway through.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been, Rodney conceded in the privacy of his own head. But it was still bad. Two men died - one of them giving the alarm to the rest of the group. Rodney just knew the man's dying groan as the Wraith sucked life out of him would echo over and over during those three am nights when it was just him and the lab and all the things that could possibly go wrong on a mission.

"We bumped into a sentry making his rounds," said John, being patched up in the Daedalus infirmary. Bruises, mostly, and his left upper arm where he'd been grazed by friendly fire, but his recitation was grim.

"Then the Queen took over the mind of one of our snipers and we were sitting ducks!" Rodney added. He tried to put at bay the sheer panic he'd felt out there when he'd realised what had happened. Yes, he was a veteran of Stargate missions out in Pegasus, but he'd never faced friendly fire like this. Unless you counted Major Leonard on the planet with the Wraith crazy-making machine and that had been different. Sort of.

It wasn't that Rodney's life was getting progressively crazier, it was just that...Rodney's life was getting progressively crazier.

"We're just lucky that I'd talked to Jennifer yesterday and she'd thrown out some ideas about the physiology of the Wraith!"

"Good work, McKay. Talk to the chop shop about making more of those before the next group goes out."

"Yes, well, I had to make do with what I had to hand," Rodney said, miffed. The man could at least have tried not to sound like the idea of Rodney doing good work was the most ridiculous thing on the planet! And while they hadn't lost anyone out there, half the group were injured in some way or form - mostly from their own friendly fire. "There are all sorts of improvements that could be made to it..."

"Later, Rodney," said John, flashing the nursing aide a brief smile as the woman finished patching him up and took her kidney tray of disinfectants away. "The Queen's under guard?"

"In our most protected cell," said Caldwell. "Four men watching her at all times, three cameras monitored from two different stations. But we may have a crisis on our hands regarding her disposition soon."

"Let me guess," John said. "The IOA would like a public execution for crimes against humanity?"

"Worse. Someone has gotten the bright idea that we could talk to the Wraith."

"I bet that's making Ronon happy." John frowned about him. "Where are Ronon and Teyla? Did the IOA call them down for another meeting?"

Caldwell hesitated, and Rodney's eyes narrowed.

"What's happened?" All emotion leached out of John's voice, making it hard and harsh.

"As it turns out, Woolsey called to say the IOA will be announcing their deliberations on Atlantis in the next couple of days and asked if we could spare Teyla from the hunt to make a final speech. He thinks a speech from her might be better received."

"Not difficult," Rodney snorted. Oh, Woolsey wasn't bad - not as bad as he could have been. But he wasn't Elizabeth. Or even Sam Carter.

"But that's not the problem." John seemed to be watching Caldwell very suspiciously.

Caldwell looked grim. "Teyla's missing."

"What do you mean, 'missing'?" John reached for his earpiece. "Teyla?"

"Exactly what it says on the tin, Colonel. She's not in her quarters, and not responding to any hailing calls - either on her earpiece or over the PA system."

"Where've you looked?"

"Nowhere so far. We weren't even sure she was missing until I came to see you and realised no-one had seen her. Agent Bates is organising a search..."

"Bates?" Rodney frowned. "He doesn't even like Teyla."

"When was the last time anyone saw her?"

"Not since she and Bates and their group got back earlier this morning. They were sent off to get some sleep, but that was hours ago. Bates and the others are back up, but...no sign of Teyla."

John hopped off the bed. "She's been exhausted, going out every second shift..."

"That's her choice," Caldwell said, his voice too even, his expression too calm - except for the eyes that narrowed as John fixed his gaze on the ship's captain. "Don't start with me, Sheppard."

Rodney wondered if he was going to have to intervene. But John picked his jacket off the bed as he stood. "Rodney, can you bounce off Teyla's earpiece to work out her location within the ship?"

"Assuming she's on the ship, yeah." Rodney caught John's gaze and rolled his eyes. "Can I at least get a shower? She can't be in critical danger right this inst--"

"Rodney."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm on my way to the labs, I might as well start them working on the Wraith whistles while I'm at it."

"Wraith whistles?"

"Well, what else were you planning to call them?"

John shrugged and stretched his arms out, testing the bandages over the wound. "I'm going to drop by my room--"

"Wait, I'm not allowed to take a shower but you can go visit your room--?"

"And change out of my bloody gear," John finished pointedly, indicating the stained jacket and his muddy trousers. "And your quarters aren't on the way to the chop shop anyway. You'd have to detour up four decks and over to the starboard side."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Excuses, excuses." But he didn't object any further. A shower would have been nice, but if Teyla was missing - and, really, Teyla wasn't the kind of just vanish from the face of the pla-- Vanish from off a ship without so much as a peep, so maybe John's worry was justified.

Sheppard paused to arrange a debriefing time with Caldwell; Rodney headed out, paging Ronon as he went. "We got a Queen!"

"It's not a competition."

"Oh, sure, you say that now, but if you'd been down there..." It was nice to needle his team-mate every now and then. The triumph of brains over brawn was always to be celebrated.

"Has Caldwell told you about Teyla?"

"Yeah, apparently she's gone missing. Sheppard and I are just about to start a systematic hunt. He had the idea of using her earpiece to track her down."

"If she's wearing it."

"Hey! There's only room for one cynic on the team!"

"Teyla doesn't do this."

And that was the sobering thought. "Look, I'm on my way down to the chop shop - I'll start the ping-back for Teyla's earpiece and we're going to put some more of the frequency emitters together for the next group going down."

"The things you cooked up that messed with the Wraith? Heard about that."

"It was just one thing. But yes, I cooked it up. In the middle of a fire fight!"

"I'll pat you on the head when I get there."

"Har-har." Rodney stood by to let a handful of airmen shuffle past him, and peered up the ladder to the next deck. "Actually, it's a piezoelectric emitter rather similar to what we call a dog-whistle here on Earth. Emits a frequency in the range of 30Hz and is the Wraith equivalent of listening to a constant feedback squeal. Actually, it was rather ingenuous, if I say so myself. I'm rather proud that I managed to cobble it together from the older radios and Lieutenant Hardcliffe's lighter..."

His earpiece beeped. "Rodney!"

"Sheppard?"

"I've found Teyla."

Rodney stopped at the top of the ladder, his hands still resting on the rails. "What? Already? Where?"

~oOo~

John was halfway in the room with the door closing behind him when he realised his bed wasn't empty.

From the messed-up sheets, Teyla squinted up at him, blinking sleep-smeared eyes. "John?"

"What are you doing here?" Relief hit him like a physical blow. It felt like something sharp and hot in his chest - a buzzing annoyance after the last few minutes' concern. "Nobody knew where you were. You're earpiece isn't on and we couldn't find you!"

Abruptly, he realised he was heading down a line of interrogation that she probably wasn't able to answer in her current state. "Are you okay?"

She propped herself up on her elbows, looking around. "I am in your bunk?"

"That's what it looks like." John eased the jacket over the chair and went over to the bed to crouch down beside it. "Everything all right?"

"I was tired," Teyla said. "After the last mission. And I knew that if I went to my room, I would be woken by someone sooner rather than later. I thought that if I went somewhere where people would not expect to find me..."

"Okay." John reached for his earpiece. "Rodney?"

"Sheppard?" The other man seemed a little out of breath.

"I've found Teyla."

"What? Already? Where is she?"

John glanced around, wondering how to put this. In his bed - only in her t-shirt given that those were her boots and trousers by the bed - Teyla's mouth curved as he hesitated over what to say. Then she leaned over and brushed her lips past his cheek with a warm puff of breath.

"She was taking a nap in my quarters," John said, figuring he'd have to tell the truth sooner or later. And with her mouth nipping at the corner of his lips, John wasn't sure he could come up with a plausible alternative.

Best to tell the truth.

"In your quarters?" He didn't need to see Rodney to hear the smirk. "Right, then. So I'm guessing you don't want us to come and find her?"

Teeth gently scraped his lip, and John swallowed and kept his voice carefully even. "No, Rodney."

"Can I take a shower then?"

Her lips were sliding across his stubble, her head angling along the horizontal line of his jaw. "Don't you have things to do?"

"Well, if you and Teyla are--"

"That is enough, Rodney," Teyla said. "We will see you at dinner."

The last thing John heard before she unhooked the earpiece from his ear was Rodney's half-snort of laughter and exasperation.

Then Teyla's mouth was on his, her hand sliding in the collar of his t-shirt, her nails gently scraping down his trapezius before flattening her hand against his back, drawing him closer. John bent into the kiss, opening his mouth over hers, letting his relief seep into his kiss. Her hair was soft under his fingers and her mouth thorough under his lips.

When she pulled back, her eyes were soft but the look in them was still sharp and clear as she surveyed him from head to toe, noting the bandage on his arm. "You are injured?"

"Just a graze." John sat down on the bed and bent to unlace his boots. They'd found Teyla, he could take a break before the debriefing. Maybe even that shower that Rodney had been nagging him about. "One of our guys surprised a sentry. His buddy got the Wraith before it drained him, but not before the Wraith managed to alert the others."

She sat up, kicking the sheets off her slim bare legs. "Did you lose anyone?"

"No." But in a way what had happened was worse. "We had time to set up an ambush - two snipers up in the trees, a series of charges set to go off as the Wraith chased us. But the Queen got one of the snipers."

Teyla stilled in the process of settling herself cross-legged in the bed. "Took him over?"

"Yeah." John slipped a hand around her ankle, suddenly wanting the contact. He hadn't realised anything was wrong until he turned to check that the others were coming and the bullet skimmed his breast pocket and clipped his arm. Even then, he'd turned in surprise and shock, only to be borne down to the ground by Rodney. "We've got a dozen guys in the infirmary - none dead, thank God. The sniper..." He exhaled, and absently rubbed the swell of her calf with his thumb. "He survived. Still doesn't remember what happened. They've got him under security guard in one of the cells."

"There will not be charges laid against him?"

"I don't know," he admitted. And that was the worst part. The guy hadn't been guilty of anything - except being human when a Wraith Queen wanted his brain. "We debrief in an hour. I guess it'll get debated then." Along with a whole bunch of other things - not least of which was the fate of the Wraith Queen now under guard in the Daedalus' cells.

But that was something to worry about later.

John had this hour to himself and Teyla. And he was hoping that she might be in the mood to use it wisely.

Judging by the way she lifted her mouth to his when he leaned over her, she was in the mood. Her lips moved eagerly in his, stealing his breath. His heart began to pound as she slid one leg over his thigh, soft curves against his leg. And his pulse throbbed in his eardrums as John drowned in her kisses.

She leaned back, breaking off the kiss. When John tried to follow, her fingertips pressed against his throat, holding him back. Her eyes gleamed with laughter as he began to protest, and the fingertips slid up to press at his lips.

"Shh," Teyla told him. Quiet and authoritative, her expression soft-lidded and languorous.

John caught his breath as she sat up and pulled her top up, over her head. Her breasts swayed free and she tossed the t-shirt on the floor beside the bed, and lay back in the sheets with a knowing smile.

His smile matched hers as she arched a brow at his lazy survey of her body - everything but the thin cotton panties she wore.

"Will you undress for me, John?"

"It's like that is it?"

Delicate brows lifted at his inquiry. "Did you have any doubts?"

John looked her over, lying in his bed, nearly naked. Provocation in every smooth curve and sensuality in the laughter in her eyes as she sprawled in his sheets like a guy's wet dream. She was naked and he was clothed, but there was no question who had the power here.

He stood up, pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it into the laundry basket. Give her something to look at. Then he put his boots away in the closet, and his watch and wristband in the bedside storage compartment.

When he turned back to the bed, she was surveying him like a monarch surveying her territory.

He wasn't young anymore - hard-bodied and well-muscled like Ronon. But from the smile on her lips and the way her gaze slid over him - hot as a caress - she liked what she saw, what he was. And as he watched, she stroked her hand down over the curve of her breast, her fingers caressing her nipple before sliding down her belly and beneath the covers.

John couldn't get his boots, socks, and pants off fast enough after that.

Teyla's mouth curved as he drew the sheets down to her knees, her fingers still dipping down between her thighs. "Eager to please?"

She gasped as he leaned down and slid his fingers beneath the silky edge of her panties. "Yeah," he murmured against her mouth, and smirked when she arched into his touch.

John drove her with quick, sure strokes, biting down the line of her throat as he worked her, suckling on her breasts as he drew her panties off her legs. Salty musk in his mouth, the swollen lips of her labia moist and sensitive to his tongue. Teyla bit down on her lip and moaned as he licked her soft and slow until her hips lifted off the bed. She crested, her head thrown back in sensual abandon, her hand clenched in his hair.

For a few moments, there was no sound in the room but her pants as John kept her in orgasm as long as he could. A nip here, a caress there...then the boneless collapse as any exertion became too much.

"Missed me?" John asked as he slid back up her, then inhaled sharply as she ran her hand hard down the length of his cock.

"Perhaps." Teyla's smile was dangerous as she eased them both over so she was on top, her hand still brushing his erection. John exhaled and told his body to take it slow as she worked him with long, easy strokes. "I have been resting since the last mission. And it was a very nice rest in your bed."

She kissed her way down his body, her palms now planted either side of his hips. John couldn't help a shiver of anticipation. "And this?"

Her lips hovered over the swollen tip of his cock. "This will be a very nice encounter in your bed, John."

John's sight blurred as she took him in her mouth, enveloped him in warm wet heat. His fingers clenched in the sheets. "Teyla!"

Teyla lifted her head and now his cock was cold. "Talk to me, John," she said, and her smile was wicked as the lips she licked. "Tell me what happened out there."

"We... We were outnumbered. T...too many of them, not enough of us..." He groaned as she sucked harder, tried to think while caught between desire and desperation. Possibly he was a sick puppy, giving mission reports in bed while being given head, trying to think when her mouth was sliding over him like hot silk, her tongue - oh, God, her tongue!

"And?"

"And our guys began losing their heads. Shooting on us. We got rein-reinforcements from upstairs, but it w-w-was all confused... Rodney-- Oh, Jesus, Teyla! Rodney came up with a w-w-weapon - ultrasound..." He panted. If this went on much longer, he was going to lose it. "It m-messed them up l-long enough for us to d-deal w-with them. E-even the Queen."

She lifted her mouth, and John almost whimpered.

"You have been to the infirmary, of course," she said, only a little breathless, as though she hadn't just blown his mind.

"They let me out."

"Without instructions not to exert yourself?"

Oh, that smile was evil. John propped himself up on his arms and let himself look over her naked body with pointed intent. "I don't think they figured on you being in my bed."

"You did not figure me being in your bed." Teyla laughed and planted her hands either side of his chest and kissed her way up his body until she took his mouth - and sank down onto him, her buttocks settling back on his upper thighs. "You do not consider this inappropriate?"

John swallowed as she shifted on him and gripped her hips before she made him lose it. "Maybe a little bit." That was part of the 'sick puppy' bit in his head. Which was somehow okay because it was Teyla. Her rules didn't match the ones he'd known all his life. That didn't have to be a bad thing.

"I am not going to stop."

Not a question. Not that it mattered. John didn't want her to stop.

"I'll tell you later..." He planted his elbows in the sheets and thrust up into her body and smirked when she gasped. "Fuck now, please." Then it was his turn to gasp as she pushed him back down to the bed and began to move with earnest intent.

She rode him to completion, John's teeth digging into his lower lip as he tried to be quiet. The last thing they needed was for someone to walk in on this.

Teyla seemed wild; her head thrown back and her eyes afire. Her fingers dug white-knuckled into his shoulders. John's heels slipped in the sheets as he scrabbled to find leverage against the rhythm of her hips. She gasped again towards the end. John smirked all the way through his own release, more than satisfied at getting her off again.

When she wilted against him, he slid his hands up her back, easing her off him, sticky and satisfied as he reached down to pull the sheets up over them. He figured they could stay here a while longer before taking a shower and going in to give the full debriefing.

"Is it later yet?"

Teyla's murmur made him laugh. As post-coital talk went, it wasn't exactly romantic. But this was Teyla and him after all.

John settled her more comfortably against him. "I think I can think now."

"Then you can tell me in greater detail. Rodney had something to stop the Wraith?"

"Some kind of psychic disruptor. Like a dog whistle, only for Wraith." He snorted. "That's what he'd going to call it apparently. At any rate, we got them all."

"Including the Queen?" She sounded surprised, and John glanced down at the top of her head.

"Well, no. We stunned the Queen and brought her up..."

Teyla propped herself up on one arm and frowned down at him. "The Queen is on the ship?"

"Yeah. In a holding cell, being watched on video and in person." John blinked as Teyla yanked back the covers. "Teyla?" The change in mood was sudden and absolute. Not the lover, but the fighter, now, and while John was impressed, he'd hoped to spend a little more time with the lover for the moment. "What's wrong?"

She turned, already half out of the bed, all languor gone, all business.

"I wish to see her."

~oOo~

John called Caldwell, told him that they'd found Teyla, and endured the older man's 'Hmm' when he admitted where. He didn't admit to having wild sex in his bed, although he was pretty sure Caldwell could read between the lines.

It had been very good sex.

"She wants to see the Queen?"

"Yeah. We'll be heading into security room one in about ten minutes."

He managed to persuade Teyla to take a quick shower while he called Caldwell, then joined her under the hot water. It would have been nice to play a bit more, but Teyla was on the warpath. John recognised the expression on her face as the one which took no prisoners. So he soaped himself down, rinsed off, and let himself sneak peeks at Teyla dressing as he shaved.

She caught him watching and rolled her eyes. "It is nothing you have not seen before, John."

He just smiled and kept shaving, wondering if she realised that that was the point.

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the security room, Teyla walking with the kind of purposeful stalk that meant it was entirely possible someone was going to get punched in the face very shortly.

They arrived at the security room to find Bates already there, casually watching the monitors.

"Teyla. Sheppard. Good mission, I hear?"

Teyla barely acknowledged either Bates or the security techs in their chairs. Instead, she went to stand before the biggest monitor in the room, the picture surprisingly sharp for a security camera.

"No lives lost, one Queen captured." John shrugged. "Not bad work."

"I hear McKay's come up with something that could turn the tide."

"Yeah. He's making more of them in the chop shop."

Except that a minute later, Rodney turned up, just after Caldwell and Ronon made an entrance. And it was beginning to become an audience of people watching Teyla watch the Wraith Queen.

"You're sure this isn't a private moment?" Rodney inquired when the conversation flagged and Teyla simply stood there, staring at the monitor. Between Bates and Caldwell, she'd been informed of Woolsey's request for a final presentation before the IOA made their decision. "Would you like us to leave you two alone?"

Teyla glanced away, amusement and annoyance warring in her expression. "Rodney."

The smile was a relief to John. He'd been starting to get worried. But Wraith Queens didn't smile like that - Teyla's warm exasperation, and the underlying threat that she might slap you on the back of the head if you did something excessively stupid. She hadn't yet, of course. But sometimes John wondered if she might.

It made life interesting.

"Are you able to read her mind?" Caldwell asked Teyla, looking from her to the monitor and back.

"Not from here," she said. "She can feel my presence here, but we cannot communicate so far. And I am not so sure that the ruse of an imprisoned Wraith Queen would work a second time."

"Why not?"

Wide lips pursed. "It is the shades of the mind. I believe I may betray too much in the things I do not say and I do not think that there is anything I can do to stop it."

John looked at the others to see if that had made as little sense to them as it had to him. "Teyla..."

"I know, it is meaningless to you." She sighed and turned back. "She knows I am here. I am the Luke Skywalker to her Darth Vader, if you will."

"Just so long as you don't turn dark side on us."

"No," Teyla said, her eyes once again on the imprisoned Queen. "I am aware of her presence now."

John wanted to ask if that meant she hadn't been aware of the Queen's presence before. As in, while she was riding him in his bed? But he wasn't going to touch that with a ten-foot pole in present company. Later, when they had a moment's privacy.

After another long look at the Queen, she turned away. "Did you wish me to make contact with her before the IOA meeting, Colonel Caldwell?"

"If you can get anything that would help us on this hunt, we'll take it. But I don't want you to exhaust yourself in the process, or risk leaving you open to the Wraith."

Bates shifted in the corner of the security room, his hands resting casually on his sidearm. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"That was many years ago. And you are here to stop me once again should things go wrong." Her words were honey and syrup, the sting in the reminder that it had been Bates who'd stunned her when the Wraith took over her mind.

John thought it might have been the first time she'd ever tried to use her gift actively against the Wraith. And from there, everything had changed.

"All right." Caldwell conceded. "I'll have Sergeant Ridgerton set you up a cell by hers, and we'll put you in there so you can infiltrate her mind. Mostly, we just want to know if there are any nests we've missed which she knows of. I don't know if you can do that without force, though."

"I can," Teyla said. "But it may require more time and cunning than I have before the IOA meeting."

"Well, we've got two more nests still to clean out," John pointed out. "It can wait for your return."

"The cell's pretty secure," Caldwell said. "As secure as we can make it. We can hold her a little longer if you need, but I don't think the IOA are going to wait."

"No, I do not think they will," she murmured, bemused.

The door behind them opened and a junior officer poked his head in. "Sir? The debriefing at 1500 hours?"

John waited until the others had filed out, hanging behind so he could speak with Teyla. When she made no move for the door, he jerked his head at Bates, a silent signal that he should wait outside. This conversation wasn't one he cared to have in front of the other man.

"You're sure you can do all this? It's a pretty intense schedule.

"I have been doing it these last few months," she said. Her arms were folded over her chest, her eyes never leaving the Queen who was sitting in the corner of the cell with her arms circling around her drawn-up legs. "It is only a little longer."

John wondered if she was aware how much it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. He took her fingers in his and squeezed lightly. Maybe it wasn't usually his thing to make such gestures, but sometimes...

The hug was unexpected - Teyla didn't do public gestures like that - but not unwelcome. And the security tech wasn't looking their way so...

After a moment, John let his arms come around her.

He could do with some convincing that they were going home, too.

~oOo~

"You don't think they're going to let us go back."

Ronon's query came at an inconvenient time for Teyla's mood. Over the last few weeks she had been coming to that conclusion herself. His statement did nothing to ease her mind.

"No," she said softly, dragging her gaze from the fine lawns and gardens visible from the window in the small antechamber. "They will not."

"Too much technology."

"Too much power," she said. "With Atlantis, there will be no-one in this galaxy to challenge them."

"They're not all about power."

"No." Teyla thought of the many men and women they both knew from the expedition. "They are not. But those who are in power crave more. And they would not risk that Atlantis might return to the Pegasus galaxy and fall into the hands of the Wraith. Better to keep it themselves and ensure their supremacy."

It was more bitter than she liked. John would have been surprised to hear her speak so. And perhaps disappointed to see her think thus of people in his world, even if he knew that she did not mean him.

And yet how difficult it was to see the individual, when all she knew was that her people would be ground down beneath the burden of the Wraith. She would return to New Athos without hope of the Ancestor's return, without hope of Atlantis' rescue, without hope of freedom from the Wraith. Torren might grow to manhood, or he might die by the hand of the Wraith as had Kanaan's first son, Ayahdu, so many years ago. Athos might survive, a mere fringe and fragment of whom they'd been before the Great Waking, or it might vanish into some other culture and be absorbed into oblivion.

So many possibilities and all of them fading before Teyla's eyes.

"Why are we here?" Ronon's question broke into her thoughts, and she looked up, found him watching her from beside the window across the room. "If you think it's hopeless, why are we going to speak with the IOA?"

"When Sateda was lost, you continued to fight," she said after a moment. "When we return to Pegasus, I do not wish to think that I could have done more."

And yet, she wondered. Had she been too intent on the hunt? Could she have spoken more often to these people who held her people's future in their hands? Or was it all futile in the end?

"Don't second-guess yourself." Ronon was watching her with too-sharp eyes. He knew her well, better than perhaps anyone else on Earth. A faint smile of amusement tipped his lips. "And don't second-guess them. You don't know..."

The door leading into the conference room opened and Mr. Woolsey emerged, closing the door behind him. He regarded them with that slight fussiness that Teyla had always supposed to be nervousness, except that it seemed to be rather more a habit. "Teyla, Ronon. Thank you for making it down here. I'm sorry about the late notice - it wasn't something I'd planned to do. How's the hunt going?"

"It is going well. They are flushing out one of the nests today." Right this instant, in fact, if her sense of time was not awry.

He dropped his voice and glanced back at the room he had just left. "And the Wraith Queen?"

"Securely held."

"Of course." He nodded. "I have not mentioned the Queen to the rest of the IOA. I do not think they would be amenable to the knowledge and it would distract from the question of Atlantis."

"Mr. Woolsey, do you think it even possible that the city might return to Pegasus."

He seemed grave at her question. "We are doing all we can. It is a difficult task - Earth has faced many dangers before, but this... It hits, as we might say, rather more close to home."

Teyla nodded. She had not expected any less. And Mr. Woolsey was enough of a politician to know that he could not say outright that Atlantis would not return to Pegasus, but that he feared that was the case.

The sound of the door opening made them turn, and a man peered into the antechamber. Teyla vaguely recognised him from the various meetings in and out of the city during the earliest days of their sojourn on Earth. Major Paul David? No. Davis. Major Lorne had spoken well of him.

"Ms. Emmagan, Mr. Dex? They're ready for you."

Teyla nodded and rose from her seat as Ronon fell into step behind and beside her, his dreadlocks neatly confined, his collar high against his throat.

Mr. Woolsey straightened up and squared his shoulders. "Go get 'em, Teyla."

Major Davis coughed and hid a laugh, but Teyla only smiled her thanks to the encouragement, and passed on into the IOA council.

~oOo~

"How'd it go?" John asked as soon as they stepped out of the transport zone.

Teyla looked at Ronon, who shrugged and answered. "It went."

"Whether it makes a difference, I cannot say." She had done her best, put the case before the IOA in the most strident terms she dared. She had spoken of her people, of the Genii, of the Travellers, of the Levanna. So many planets, so many people. They had struggled beneath the burden of the Wraith for years, awaiting the return of the Ancestors, seeking a deliverer. Had the IOA been reached by the images she had requested from the Atlantis database? The anthropologists' films and the security feeds of the people coming and going through the city?

Perhaps they were not the groomed and suited people she had faced today, but she had striven to put a face on the Pegasus galaxy. This, here, a woman who was like a woman of earth. That, there, a man who looked like their son.

She forced the thoughts from her mind. It would avail her nothing to fret about them now. "Where is Rodney? Did the strike against the Wraith nest go well?"

"Rodney's fine. We're all fine. Well, most of us." John grimaced. "Two dead. Not something we could have helped, although Rodney seems to be intent on flagellating himself. He's up in the labs tinkering with his device - is going to make it so it works better, or faster. Have you eaten? I was going to drag him out for dinner."

They looked at each other. "The time zones were not good for eating," Teyla said after a moment. "And there was no opportunity to eat. Dinner would be most welcome."

She felt a little odd all through dinner, as though the time was catching up with her.

"She had a long day," Ronon said when they caught her staring into space. "The IOA asked her all the questions."

"And you just stood there and looked pretty?" Rodney demanded. He'd been persuaded to leave his laptop and his device behind in the lab, and although he was wolfing down his food with complete unconcern for the niceties of table manners, he was listening to the conversation. Which was more than Teyla felt up to doing.

"Oh, he does that pretty well," said John, pouring Teyla another cup of tea.

She pushed it away, hissing a little as the hot ceramic burned her skin. "No. I believe I have had enough, John, thank you."

They insisted on escorting her back to her rooms. Rodney claimed it was on his way to the technical labs, although the route to the labs was most definitely not past her quarters. Ronon said he needed to see Garfield and several of his marine buddies to get their view of the day, although he denied distrusting John and Rodney's versions of it. John gave no excuse - he needed none.

When the doors closed behind them in an empty corridor, Teyla felt the moment poignantly. They had been a team for several years now, colleagues and friends, antagonists and goads. And yet with Atlantis remaining on Earth, there was no question but that they would be separated.

"Teyla?"

She realised she'd caught her breath in the middle of Rodney's rambling, and they were staring at her with concern and worry written clear on their faces.

"Nothing," she said. And if they were unconvinced, still they left it there and did not question her further.

But when the other two waved and went about their evening tasks, John stayed outside her door. "I don't want an invite in," he said, his expression slightly worried. "I just want to be sure you're okay."

"What could I say that would convince you?"

He shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets, glancing down the corridor and scuffing his boots on the floor grating. "You know it's not likely that--"

"Yes. John--"

"We never really talked about--"

"No." She had been willing to take each day as it came, and not question. "Did you wish to talk about it?"

His mouth curved to the side a little, lopsided and wry. "No. But if Atlantis doesn't go back..."

"If we do not both return, then we may deal with it then." Teyla regarded him for a moment and wondered if he expected her to kiss him here and now, in the corridor where any airman or marine might wander past. It was not her way and not something she felt comfortable in doing. Instead, she touched his cheek, making him look up at her, into her eyes. "We have done what we could and what we must, John. Is that not enough?"

He watched her mutely for a moment, and there was understanding and comprehension in his eyes as he looked at her. Then he turned his face to the side and kissed her fingertips before stepping back, regret in his gaze. "I guess it'll have to be, won't it?"

Teyla nodded and watched him go, then sighed and went into the silence and privacy of her own room.

~oOo~

She stood on the bridge of a ship, dressed in short leathers, and looked out through the viewscreen at the great armada of ships drawing together above a blue-green planet whose white swirling clouds obscured much of the landmasses below.

Around her, Wraith moved. They drifted past her, substantial and deferential. As they passed, their minds were open to hers, their thoughts impinging on hers with every breath they drew. They were drones and clevermen and blades as they moved without giving her a second look; yet every life on this ship was sworn loyal to her service.

Over by the communications panel, a blade and a cleverman paused in their consultation, Sharpsense's brow drawing down in displeasure. She felt the tenor of his mind against hers - something had unsettled him.

*What is it?*

*Coldamber calls.*

The face that came up on the screen was a fierce one; old and proud. Coldamber was a true daughter of Gryphon, with the cunning and intelligence of her foremothers in her eyes and features and the touch of her mind. And yet it seemed that something within Brightfire's soul recoiled at the sight of her.

"Brightfire, my dear sister."

Sisters they were not - Brightfire was of the lineage of Night, not Gryphon - and dearly beloved they most certainly were not. However Brightfire had no choice but to accept the moniker. Coldamber led this armada of many, and Brightfire was a mere youngling by comparison.

"Sister." She spoke out loud as had Coldamber. Thoughts did not translate through ship communications. "You have called me and I and mine are here."

"Then we are nine in number," said the face on the screen. "To return to these 'Ancestors' that which was given to our foremothers."

And her smile that shuddered through Brightfire-and-yet-not-Brightfire's bones.

The darkness blurred and became light - an uncomfortable brightness for them all as they stood in the harsh, hot desert of an intermediary planet.

With a small party of clevermen and blades at her back, Brightfire faced the others, feeling the touch of their minds as best she could, trying to sense the tenor of the conversations around them. There was no hint of betrayal here, though, only the concerned curiosity from all - save Silversight who had sent her blades out to convene this meeting.

*Why have you brought us here? * Brightfire demanded.

Silversight turned, her grey eyes bright with the burn of secret knowledge. *To offer you opportunity, sister. My clevermen have discovered a signal in space, originating from the homeworld of the Lanteans.*

The others gasped, but Brightfire was older than them all. These others did not recall the days of the Great Armada, of the long attack against the Ancestors and their cruelties against the Returned. But all those who had been there were long since dead, and what was left was merely their descendants and those who had not come at Coldamber's call.

And Coldamber? Coldamber was long since dead, her ship sunk beneath the waves in the attack against the city of the Ancestors, gone beyond all hope of recall.

Brightfire remained.

And she had not stayed alive so long by being incautious.

She looked around the circle at the others, sensing their minds, feeling their anticipation. They were young and Silversight was only just older. But the promise and possibility of finding the Lantean homeworld...

Brightfire might not join in their excitement, but she could not fault it.

She looked around the circle. Eight queens, with herself the ninth. And she heard Coldamber's voice in her head once more, Then we are nine in number...

The brightness blurred, and she was again on a ship, walking beside an ethereal-looking cleverman through the unfamiliar corridors of a too-large hive.

*You are sure?*

His mental assurance was crystal-sharp, and factual as she had come to expect. Icemind had never been one for flights of fancy, every thought precise and defined. *I may be a cleverman new to your service, my Queen, but I know what hunting parties take with them. * In his mind, she saw the shapes he'd seen - power generators, long loops of the organic cable, and a cradle unit for a hive seed.

And so Silversight betrayed her intent.

More than merely hunting for food or settling in, but colonising.

Brightfire's displeasure burned sharp and clear in her emotions before she tamped it down. Only Icemind felt it, and shivered back from the fire of his Queen.

*Speak of this to no-one, * she told him. *And do not let yourself be seen again. * Her hand stroked down his cheek, and in spite of his fear, he turned his face into her touch. Desire shone the more brightly in him, like sunshine off crystalline shapes in snow. He was not as pretty as her consort, perhaps, but he might be worth bedding sometime. Of course she did not let that thought escape her - it did not do to allow a male to become complacent. He would work for her attention as they all did. *You have done well, my clever cleverman.*

*I live to serve my lady, * was his reply, and he bowed with a courtier's bow and went about his business, leaving Brightfire to think what he had seen.

Where did Silversight intend to lay herself and her people down? Did she not truly believe that this planet would be ripe for the picking, then? Or was this a deeper game - another circle within? The young Queen was opaque to Brightfire's thoughts - the daughters of Osprey were capable of powerful deceptions, after all - and Silversight had added others to their number, young Queens whom Brightfire had neither met not acknowledged, so young were they.

As she summoned her most loyal blades to her, Brightfire considered her options. What measures must she take to protect herself and her own? Silversight could not be wholly trusted - that was for certain, and Brightfire was old enough to know betrayal in her fellow Queens, and to fear it.

She must find out the young Queen's plans. Discover what it was that Silversight planned, and determine first whether it was a danger to Brightfire's own, or secondly whether it was something that Brightfire and her males might benefit from.

If only there was enough time before the darts launched!

She picked up her skirts - too long, too hampering, but an old, familiar affectation - and hurried towards her quarters. Yet even as she stepped forward, she felt the approaching touch of two of Silversight's clevermen.

*Our queen requests the presence of you and your retinue for the attack, lady, * said the shorter one and his mind was full of mazes and twists, like a damp forest full of shadows, but his thoughts were all excitement at the mere thought of the feast that awaited them below. *We are close to the time for the hunt.*

*I shall collect my men, * said Brightfire, although inwardly she cursed. She would have no time to discover what was happening, no chance to fully plumb the depths of Silversight's machinations. She must trust when she had never been one to easily trust.

She turned on her heel and move through the arches of the great Hive, her mind seething with plans to uncover Silversight's intent before they launched the darts for Earth.

Teyla woke in her bed and gasped as though she had forgotten how to breathe.

And in her mind sat the clear sense of where the last Wraith queen had intended to be set down.

~oOo~

It was a homestead out in a large farm, abandoned nearly two years previous according to the county records, and haunted according to the local paper.

"You're sure about this?" Agent Bates asked as he surveyed the distant buildings and their overgrown yards.

"No, I am not 'sure'," Teyla said, and saw young Lieutenant Amir-Parvez frown at her sharpness. She did not apologise. Her night had been restless and rough with the Wraith dreams, and she was anxious for the news from the IOA about Atlantis. "But this is where Rodney's life-signs sensor on the Daedalus has detected Wraith, and it lies in line with the final run of the darts on their way to Area 51."

It was a little frightening to realise just how carefully the Wraith had planned this invasion. Not merely in the design and development of the hive, but also in the choice of alliances, in the back-up plans should the initial invasion fail, in Silversight's plan to colonise Earth.

Would it have succeeded? Teyla did not think so, but then, in the months she had been here, she had discovered Earth to be full of wonderful and terrible people. It was neither as golden as the Eden of which their old stories spoke, nor as black as some seemed to be intent on painting it. Yet, for all that, it was a world worth preserving - for life and the great range of existence that could be marked out between birth and death.

But the preservation of Earth should not come at the cost of Pegasus.

And so she stood here on the ridge looking down at a set of run-down buildings in which the Wraith had apparently set up shop.

"Teyla? Lieutenant Amir-Parvez? This is the Daedalus calling in with a recall order."

The lieutenant looked at her, confused as he touched his earpiece again. "Daedalus, please confirm. You're recalling us back up to the ship?"

"Affirmative, Lieutenant. Caldwell wants to see Ms. Emmagan as soon as possible. Call your team in and prepare for transport."

Teyla knew what it must be as soon as the light faded to show the Daedalus transporter bay. John was standing there by the transporter controls, his expression grim and bitter as she came over to him, Bates hard on her heels.

"Atlantis isn't going back."

A hard lump formed in her throat. "The news just came?"

"Caldwell's still on the line with Woolsey," he said, falling into step beside her. "He authorised the recall. I thought you should know..."

"Thank you."

Her eyes stung with unshed tears as they moved through the corridors of the ship.

"Ronon's in with Caldwell." John's voice was modulated, careful, as though the slightest variation might crack him beyond all mending. "Rodney, too. I left to find you as soon as we got the news. I think Rodney's arguing it with Woolsey - for all the good it'll do."

"Mr. Woolsey was on our side from the start," Teyla murmured. It stung that her impassioned pleas had fallen upon deaf ears - that Earth had decided their 'maybe needs' outweighed the certainty of the Wraith's cost on Pegasus. "Did he call to tell us the news then?"

"Yeah." John blew out a sharp breath. "Sucks to be him. Actually, this whole situation sucks."

"John--" Teyla began, then stopped. The corridor was busy as it was - no place to hold a private conversation - and from the sympathetic looks people were giving her, the news had already spread. Here and there, people glanced at her and looked away, assiduously avoiding her gaze, but most of those they passed seemed saddened - for her sake if nothing else.

"Look," John said, his voice lowered. "I know that Carter's going to offer you a berth on the Hammond - if you want it. They can't take the Wraith on face-on, but they can keep an eye on the situation in Pegasus. It's not Atlantis, I know but..."

Teyla looked up at him when he trailed off. "What will you do?"

It was easier to speak of his future than her own - to ask about his plans now rather than face the bleakness of her own.

They were nearly at the communications room before John answered. "I don't know yet."

And when she met his gaze, the weariness in his eyes shook her. Out of those who had come to Atlantis from Earth, John was the one who had resonated with the city the most. His was the presence the city responded to, his touch the one that guided Atlantis through space. He had lost the closeness of his own family and made his own place in Atlantis, carving a niche out among others like himself - Rodney, Aiden, Ronon, herself.

And when she was gone back to Pegasus and he remained here on Earth, she would miss him.

In the communications room, Rodney was pacing, his every movement sharp with fury. In contrast, Ronon held himself still and grim, and only turned his head to acknowledge their entrance.

Mr. Woolsey was up on the largest screen in the communications room and speaking with Colonel Caldwell. "We did what we could," he was saying. "I guess that's all any of us can say in the end. And Teyla's presentations helped, I think."

"But not enough," Teyla said, entering the conversation without permission. She felt the sting of failure in her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. "Not enough to change their minds."

"No. I had hoped it might sway them but..."

There was, Teyla thought, a world of unspoken regret in that shrug. And if she had spoken her piece before the IOA and been knocked back, how much harder for Mr. Woolsey, to face these people who he considered his colleagues and have his plea rejected?

"What'll happen to Atlantis?"

Mr. Woolsey looked pained. "The IOA are hoping to use it as a research base, while the SGC runs operations out of it. As you know, the Pegasus Stargate overrides the one we have here, so as long as it's on Earth..." He trailed off and Teyla could see the frustration in his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't get the city back to where it belongs, Teyla, Ronon."

"You did what you could," Teyla reminded him, although the words were dust in her mouth. "And I thank you for it."

And that was it.

Mr. Woolsey spoke on for a little while, about the continued missions to Pegasus, and what relief they could offer the Athosians. Teyla answered his questions and thanked him for his assistance, but she was not able to think beyond her disappointment and Ronon's answers were terse and angry. It was not long before Mr. Woolsey rang off.

"So what happens next?" Rodney asked, his voice plaintive in the silence. "I mean, now that we're not going back?"

"You take a job wherever the best opportunity is." John's voice was flat. "I get assigned wherever O'Neill decides my skills are needed. And Teyla and Ronon go back to Pegasus."

It was a bleak future - and one which they'd already lived. The life of a farmer was not for Ronon, and Teyla could not go back to who she had been before John and the Lanteans had walked through the gate on old Athos. Six Earth weeks of it had been long enough; to live it out for the rest of their lives...

Teyla did not believe in a hell as such, but her future stretched out before her - painfully anchored to Athos, to the knowledge that of the gates she could walk through, this one would always remain closed.

She met John's gaze and saw the pain there before he masked it. For his sake or hers? Teyla did not know and was not sure.

"I'd like to make you and offer," said Colonel Caldwell, looking from Teyla to over at Ronon. "Both of you. If either of you decide you'd like a berth aboard this ship, I'd be glad to have you in my crew."

"Is not Colonel Carter planning to offer much the same thing?" Teyla asked, at once touched and amused by the offer.

Caldwell's smile was wry. "Which is why I'm making it now. There's also been a discussion about offering your people sanctuary in the Milky Way. It's not the option you want, I know, but it's there if they want - if you'd like the chance to live free of the Wraith."

"Thanks." Ronon grunted, and Teyla echoed his gratitude. It was a kind offer, even if she did not think they were likely to take it.

"We'll put the hunt for the Wraith on hold for the moment," said Caldwell. "I'll keep teams watching the area, but you don't need to join them. If you'd rather sit this out..."

"I would like to remain a part of this hunt," Teyla said immediately, and did not need to hear Ronon's agreement to know that he felt the same. If they were angry at the IOA's decision, they were not so petty as to take it out on those who had no part in such a selfish choice. "If you are willing to have us."

Teyla had started on this hunt while there was still hope for Pegasus. She would finish it in the knowledge that her future and Ronon and the futures of their people would forever be circumscribed by the Wraith.

But in the end they would finish what they had begun - as Earth would not.

And then they would go home.

~oOo~

Things went bad almost the instant they beamed down into the house.

It should have been a simple plan - or so Rodney claimed. Beam in the Wraith disruptors, beam in the marine teams with Teyla, shoot anything with long hair and oily skin that didn't look like it belonged in a 90s grunge band, and take the Queen down with Teyla's mind-whammy and as many stunner blasts as Wraith physiology could take.

"Mind whammy?" Teyla had queried, struggling between amusement and exasperation.

"What else did you want to call it?" Rodney demanded before going on to outline where in the farmstead house the device would be placed and exactly what it would do.

From Rodney's description and the descriptions of others, the device should have at least temporarily disabled all Wraith in the house at least. Individual marines had secondary devices attached to their jackets should they have to move out, but he'd turned the intensity of the resonance up so the effect would spread further.

However, as the light faded from around them and the first stunner fire began to take out her companions, Teyla realised that they had not considered one small thing.

The Wraith had taken hostages.

Teyla counted at least ten - perhaps as many as sixteen, all of them young - in their late teens at most.

Had they been camping out here in the abandoned house? Or had the Wraith picked them up from out of the nearby town and brought them back to do their bidding? Teyla did not know. What she knew was that they fought for the Wraith as fiercely as if they had been bred among Wraith-worshippers. At this moment, she did not particularly care how they had come to follow the Wraith with such loyalty. Her stunner worked on Wraith and human alike, and she would not make any differentiation between which was which if either were against her.

What was that Lantean saying? Kill them all and let God sort them out? Right now, after the morning's griefs and news, Teyla was willing to stun them all and let the personnel on the Daedalus sort them out.

The marines were not.

Faced with people instead of the Wraith they had expected, the marines hesitated. Perhaps it was that they did not remember the weapons they wielded. Accustomed to bullets and guns, it did not occur to most of them that they could shoot back when the hostages opened fire.

Teyla stunned the nearest one - the tallest and biggest of the quartet, in a Blue Sun t-shirt with an earring through his brow. His fall was ungraceful and immediate and the one beside him glanced down and took her second stunner shot full in the chest.

Just behind her, Agent Bates was yelling into his comm. "Daedalus, this is Bates! The Wraith have hostages are using them against us. We need backup right now!"

Beside her, Sergeant Ainsley went down almost immediately. As Teyla sidestepped out of the way, her foot swiped broken bits of metal and plastic across the hardwood floor with a tinkling clatter. Rodney's device, smashed to pieces - which meant...

The Wraith spun out from their hiding places, pouring in from the other rooms, emerging from behind the thick stone arches of the farmhouse's oldest construction. Five, ten, fifteen...

They were heavily outnumbered. Teyla felt their minds all around her, the humming buzz of their thoughts, their anger and annoyance with the human cattle that simply did not know when to give up. To the Wraith, they were nothing more than beasts to be fed upon; perhaps entertainment if they showed spirit as Ronon had all those years ago on Sateda.

"Backs together," Bates ordered, and the group moved together. Teyla felt the warmth of them at her back, stayed out one step so their shoulders and arms shouldn't overlap hers as she shot and shot and shot...

"Turn on your devices!" called someone else, and Teyla saw one marine's hand move to his shoulder to activate his device.

The buzzing was very faint on the edge of her hearing, rather like the noise some electrical equipment made when it was left on at the power-source. As the first device was joined by others, there was a sharper, higher note to it, too, as though it might drill through Teyla's head. And if it was just on the edge of annoying for her, it would be more painful for the Wraith.

She shot two more Wraith, carefully sighting along the barrel of the stunner to take them cleanly out. Beside her, Bates took a stunner in the knee and went down. Teyla started down to help him up, but he waved her away. "Find the Queen! That's what you're here for!"

There wasn't time or space to find the Queen right now - they were outnumbered and outgunned. Teyla began to point this out, the closed her lips around the thought.

With a flash of light, another troop was beamed down - Ronon's long form clearly visible in the mêlée as he plunged out, firing swift and sure at the Wraith as he moved out. Another flash, and John's group moved out - these ones with stunners and guns for dealing with the clean-up.

Teyla caught John's eye as he stepped out among his men. He flashed her the fragment of a smile. "Take care." He didn't say the words; he didn't need to.

Around them, the tide of the fight began to turn.

Still the Wraith mowed them down, whittling them away one by one. Yet many of their number were down, and new squads were being beamed down, not only inside the house but around the outside of them.

Teyla stumbled to the wall and balanced herself against it. The stone under her fingers was rough and slightly dusty, but it held her up. That was all she wished of it at this moment as she focused on the Wraith minds and sought out the Queen.

The echo of the gunshot surprised her. But not as much as the sudden sting of her shoulder. Teyla caught her breath as her stunner fell from her now-nerveless fingers and lifted her gaze to look her attacker in the face.

"John..." Her heart pounded as she stared into his face. "Fight her!" The struggle was clear upon his features, visible in the way his gun hand jerked up in small increments, battling whatever compulsion the Queen had put on him. And yet he was losing. The weapon was coming up, slowly yet surely, and she could see the terror in his eyes.

Don't look. Concentrate! Charin's voice echoed in her head, an oft-heard reprimand when she'd been young and learning to meditate.

Teyla closed her eyes and reached for the mind controlling John.

She felt it nearby, close on the property somewhere, holed up and dangerous - a young Queen as the Wraith counted these things, but a powerful one. Of the lineage of Osprey, a long-ago Wraith Queen whose skill had been in deception and control. A powerful Queen and a dangerous one - intelligent and measured and clever - as was her many-times descendant.

As were her many-times descendants.

For in that moment of Teyla felt the similarity between them, two like and yet unlike. Born of different mothers, to different peoples, yet so much the same in mindset and determination and spirit.

Two who laid claim to the man who struggled to put down the gun even as one tied to force him to lift it and shoot the other.

Teyla felt the shudder that pulsed through John - a shudder from outside, not within. When she opened her eyes, Agent Bates had his weapon trained on John but his eyes flickered to Teyla's shoulder. "You need a bandage for that?"

She did, but she could not afford to wait. "Later."

Her eyes closed again, her thoughts spearing out towards the Queen. Her thoughts closed around Silversight's mind, digging hooks in to get a firmer grip. *You steal that which is not yours.*

*Who are you? * The voice was incredulous. *You did not come on the Great Hive...*

*I am that which should not exist, * Teyla said coldly. *I am she who claims this planet her own and all those who live upon it. * Silversight's mind was slippery, and tried to eel out of her mental grasp, unwilling to submit to another Queen . But Teyla was still full of the anger she had not dared to show the Daedalus' officers this morning, and she would not let go of this one. *This is my planet and my people, and you shall not have one more than is already yours!*

She struck hard and fast, fierce and ferocious, pushing back at Silversight. This Queen and more of her ilk would take Pegasus from her, would try to take her people away, would kill Torran for nothing more than a snack. And it was not in Teyla to lie down and take defeat as though it was assured.

With all her might, Teyla pulled at her resources and stabbed deep.

Her thoughts were sharp and fierce, like a knife struck through the anchoring links of the Queen's mind. She heard the Wraith Queen's scream without ears as Teyla struck deep into her thoughts with a strength born of desperation - a mortal wound.

And Silversight's strength began to ebb like water from a deep cracked ewer.

Yet the Wraith Queen still had it in her to strike back one last time.

Too late, Teyla realised that in opening up Silversight's mind to her, she had opened up her mind to Silversight. And the agonising spasm of her thoughts and mind and skull took her into darkness with Agent Bates calling her name.

~oOo~

John woke with a raging headache and the sudden gasping memory of shooting Teyla in the shoulder.

The raging headache was expected after a stunner hit. The memory of shooting Teyla...well, Rodney would snark that it would be expected considering John had actually shot Teyla in the shoulder.

Memory rushed him like teenagers to Justin Bieber. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see anything but the shocked expression on her face as she reached for her shoulder and her hand came away bloody. "Where is she?"

"In surgery on the Daedalus," Ronon said, pushing him back down against the wall as he tried to get up. "They said she's stable and they're keeping us updated."

Looking around at the shambles of the old farmhouse, John tried to remember what had happened during the firefight. He remembered being transported into the house, and seeing Teyla backed shoulder to shoulder in with the others of her group. He remembered how her swift smile had felt in his belly - a warm squeeze before she focused on the Wraith and kept shooting.

And he remembered fighting the compulsion in his mind to lift his weapon and point the trigger. Fighting the Queen as she took over his body - but not enough to keep from shooting Teyla.

"Is she okay? I mean...?"

Ronon shrugged. "Bates said it was probably just a flesh wound. And Caldwell wants an update."

"From me? You can't give him one?"

"Already did. But you're the leader."

John keyed in his earpiece. "Daedalus, this is Sheppard. Patch me through to Colonel Caldwell, please."

"Sheppard, what's your status?"

"I'm in one piece. So are most of our men. I hear the same can't be said for Teyla."

"Yes. I understand she took friendly fire in the arm."

He took a deep breath and told himself it wasn't his fault. It could have been anyone with a gun, not just him. And if it had been someone else, then maybe they wouldn't have fought as long as he tried to.

That was the rational part of him speaking.

The irrational part wondered just how he was going to deal with the fact that one of her last memories of him would be of him shooting her.

"Yes, sir, she did." It was the safest answer to give at this moment.

"Dr. Roberts has her in surgery now, I understand. He claims it's a simple surgery and will let us know how things are going when she gets out. In the meantime, I need you to run clean-up down there. Ronon says you've got seventeen human teenagers who were captured and brainwashed by the Wraith."

"Yeah. I think they've put them in under guard in one of the rooms... They're going to need detoxing." And probably years of therapy. Decades of it.

"I've got Homeworld Security asking about damage control and making requests all over the place. They've been asking what we need, too - I'll add the detox to the list."

"Homeworld Security's asking about damage control?"

Caldwell must have been feeling mellow, because he didn't tell John it wasn't any of his business. "Apparently O'Neill's in a huff about something."

"Atlantis and the IOA?" John immediately regretted saying anything about Atlantis at all. If he started to think about it, he wasn't sure he'd be able to breathe. His city grounded on Earth, left to the IOA vultures as they picked it apart piece by piece.

"That seems likely. In the meantime, co-ordinate the clean-up, please, Colonel."

"Copy that, sir."

As clean-ups went, this one was relatively painless.

A handful of human dead - several of the guys in the first wave had died when the initial onslaught of Wraith had hit them. They'd been drained before their reinforcements even arrived and were bagged and tagged and sent upstairs.

Forty-seven Wraith males stunned, dead, and/or executed on the ground - piled in a heap and transported up. John had no idea what they were doing with the Wraith dead - spacing them? Lieutenant Amir-Parvez was organising for the property to be checked over with a life-signs detector to ensure that there weren't any in hiding.

Seventeen Earth teenagers, tortured until they couldn't think straight and then inducted into worship of the Wraith.

Ronon had them cordoned off in a separate room and was acting as the gatekeeper. He stepped briefly away from the door as John came up. "They're not doing too well," he said, keeping his voice low. "It's rough enough the first few hours, but then it gets worse."

John remembered the horror of having to watch Ronon go through detox, inch by painful inch. There'd been shouting and screaming and cursing, verbal abuse and threats that he didn't like to think about even now. He grimaced. "They'll be taken up to the Daedalus for detox. Caldwell's got it under control." At least he hoped Caldwell had it under control. And if Caldwell didn't, John figured O'Neill might.

The last was the worst in some ways: one Wraith Queen out in the shed, crumpled on the ground with ichor streaming from her eyes and nose and lips.

"Teyla did that to her?" Rodney demanded as they sealed her up in a body bag.

"Looks like it."

Rodney glanced at John. "I'm glad you're the one sleeping in her bed and not me."

He rolled his eyes at Rodney before heading back to the house and tried not to think of Teyla on the operating table, a bullet in her shoulder. It could have been in her chest. Or in her head.

"You know," Rodney said, "if you're going to mope like this until she's out of surgery, I'm not going to stick around for it."

"I'm not moping."

"Actually, yes, you are. And Teyla knows you were under the Queen's control at the time, and she's probably grateful that you didn't shoot her anywhere more dangerous. I mean, the shoulder's pretty bad, but at least it's not, say, the heart. That's a bit less forgivable."

"You're just a merry little sunshine, aren't you, Rodney?"

"Hey, I try." Rodney smirked. "And at least now you're not moping!"

John rolled his eyes and let him wander off to look over Amir-Parvez's shoulder as the guy ran his checks. Why leave someone else to do something when you could point out all the things they were doing wrong?

He did a perimeter check, watched the Wraith bodies get beamed up, watched a bunch of military folks he didn't recognise get beamed down and go in to deal with the kids, and waited for Rodney to stop fussing over his detector as the rest of the marines prepared to head upstairs again.

"You could have held off for a few minutes," John said as they walked out of the transportation zone, Ronon a step behind. "A few minutes wouldn't have killed you!"

"Hey, I thought we had more time before..." Rodney trailed off as Caldwell walked out into the transportation bay. "Uh-oh."

"Teyla?"

"She's fine, Sheppard. Just out of surgery and stable. She lost a lot of blood but she's otherwise fine."

"What's the bad news, then?" Ronon asked.

Caldwell's face was a study in emotion - as though he wasn't sure what to feel at this moment. "Actually, I'm not sure it's bad news at all. It's about Atlantis."

~oOo~

She drifted out of sleep to the sound of John and Rodney arguing.

"You can't force her to come back, Rodney! She's a contractor, same as the rest of the civilians. She has a right to make her own decisions about whether she's coming back or not."

"I'm not forcing anyone! I just think that long distance relationships aren't conducive to...you know...intimacy."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder when it comes to you, Rodney."

"Gee, John, I never imagined you cared."

The bickering was comfortable, a familiar cadence - the sound of home. Then Teyla remembered that Atlantis was no longer home for her, and her eyes stung with sudden tears. Wincing, she scrunched her eyes together so she could try to open them enough to see.

"Hey," Ronon said, sitting up and forward on his chair. "You okay?"

Her throat felt dry and sore, as though she'd swallowed and ocean of dust while she slept. "Water," she said, and lifted one IV'd hand to point at the jug of water to the side.

John fetched the pitcher and a cup as Rodney frowned. "Aren't you nil by mouth right now?"

"Rinse," she whispered, and was relieved when John handed her the cup. It was awkward, reaching across the bed to take it in her left hand since her right was bound up and immobilised in a sling. John's fingers wrapping around hers for a warm moment to be sure she had a firm grip on it and his gaze held hers before he let her go.

She rinsed her mouth out, gargled, and swallowed, just because she wanted to feel the cool slide of water down her throat. It was like a balm to her senses and she sighed with relief and pleasure. There was nowhere to put the cup down, but Ronon took it from her hand and set it on the table.

"How're you feeling?"

"Sore," she said, and touched her hand to her injured shoulder. "But that is to be expected."

She ignored John's flinch. "What has happened since? I know I defeated the Queen, but I do not know about the rest."

They exchanged looks, only causing further mystification on her part. Ronon was grinning broadly. Rodney looked smug and satisfied, as though he'd just solved an unsolveable problem. John looked quietly jubilant.

"Atlantis is going back to Pegasus after all."

Teyla stared at John. "But they only just announced that we were not to go back-- We go back home? Truly?"

"It was O'Neill's doing," he said by way of explanation, his hands tucked in his pocket. "Apparently there's some kind of precedent regarding territorial possession and ownership that the Russians invoked when they first started with the Stargate program. So when the IOA announced that Atlantis was staying on Earth...it's sitting off the coastline of San Francisco - in American territorial waters."

"They decided that they'd rather risk aliens than an unstoppable American hegemony," Rodney crowed. "So we're all going back! All of us," he said, looking pointedly at John.

"I'm just saying that if Keller doesn't want to come, you can't make her."

Teyla glanced from Rodney's mutinous face to Ronon's carefully neutral one. She knew that Ronon's interest in Jennifer was long since over - but that did not mean it could not sting, too. Teyla thought it wisest to change the topic. "So Atlantis returns home. When do we go?"

"Oh, not for another week," said John, toying with a small console game he pulled from his jacket pocket. "You've got plenty of time to recover."

Plenty of time to recover, yes, but watching John as he hovered carefully out of reach, Teyla wondered whether she would have time to address the trouble that gnawed so visibly at him as he remained when it was clear he had other things to do.

"John," she said, intervening when Ronon prepared to leave - Rodney having announced that he had too much to do and it was great to see Teyla, but he didn't want to catch anything that might be floating around the infirmary ward.

Ronon slapped him on the shoulder as he turned back, and gave Teyla a quick grin and a nod of approval as he went.

John sat on the bed. "I'm sorry about the shoulder."

"I know you are. John, I do not expect you to flagellate yourself about this."

"But?"

She let her eyes linger on his face, the lines and curves of it, the stubbled hollows of his cheeks and the untidy tumble of his hair. "I would like you to not flagellate yourself about this."

He huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. "They're not the same thing?"

"They are the opposites of each other," she said holding out her hand - her left hand - for him to take. "John, she had your mind in a powerful grip. And yet you fought her. I felt that when I was attacking her."

"It wasn't enough," he said.

"It was," she told him. "You shot my arm, John, not my heart, not my head, not any of my bones or joints. If you could not keep from shooting me, you could keep from causing me greater damage."

"And if that's just luck?"

"How often have you told me that luck plays a part in every engagement with the enemy?"

Again, he gave a short huff followed by a smile. "I'm the enemy now?"

Her mouth curved slightly. "I could chain you up if you wish."

His eyes widened, just a fraction, and beneath her fingertips, his pulse hammered. His body liked that idea; his mind would find the struggle against social expectations somewhat rather more difficult. "Save that for another time, I think." He searched her face for a moment, and she regarded him back, letting him seek what he would find. "Are you okay?"

"Other than the shoulder, yes. And that will heal soon enough." She lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his hand against her cheek. "They came seeking resources. No different, perhaps, to what your governments do here on Earth and through this galaxy. Only that the resources the Wraith seek are us and others like us."

"People."

"Yes. As they are people, too." She grimaced. "Perhaps it is that I am too close - that I have been inside their heads, watching their thoughts, understanding their ways."

"And maybe you've just got more feeling for walking in others' shoes," John said quietly, remembering tea drunk at a village in Afghanistan late one afternoon, and tea drunk in a tent in Athos early one morning.

"And when you have walked a mile in someone else's shoes, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes," Teyla murmured, feeling whimsical and a little light-headed. Yet John smiled and that made the old and familiar joke worth the telling.

"You should have something to eat. I'll drop by the nurse's station on my way out and make sure you've got something to eat. And I should head off and start organising the things we're going to need when we get back to Pegasus." John laced his fingers into hers and tightened his grip as he stood. "I'm sorry about the shot."

"And there is nothing to forgive, since it was not you," Teyla told him and tugged him over. "John. I know who you are. I know you would not shoot me if you could not at all help it. If you fear that a Queen has been in your head making you do things you fear, then what must you think of me?"

"I don't-- I mean, you're not--" John fell silent. "It's not the same."

"No, it is not. What I have done while under the influence of the Wraith has been much worse." She coaxed his face down to hers. "You are who you are, and I am who I am, and we have a future when we thought we had none before."

His lips lingered and his hands planted either side of her hips on the bed as he kissed her with great thoroughness - and was kissed back just as ardently.

"I... Teyla, you're..." John pressed his forehead to hers, and dark lashes swept down across the in-between green of his eyes as he took a deep breath. "There's nothing you could do that would make me lose respect for you."

Laughter bubbled up, a kind of effervescent joy that she would not have imagined possible mere hours before. "And you do not believe I think the same of you?"

John's lashes lifted to look her in the eye and he kissed her once again, gentle and soft. "Maybe you don't know me."

"And perhaps you do not own me." Teyla kissed him back. "But I am content if you are."

His mouth curved at the corner, a smile reluctantly given birth.

"Yeah," he said. "We're good."

- THE END -