Hello, people who have stuck with me all these years - especially my wonderful and INCREDIBLY patient friend Callie, for whom this story is written - and welcome to those of you who are new!

I started this story five years ago (WOW, time flies!), but then inadvertently abandoned it - not updating it for several years. I realized this when I discovered the old story files on my laptop, which prompted me to pull it up on here. I re-read the whole thing...frankly, I was appalled by the tense in which I had written and I was even more appalled to discover some pretty glaring plot holes. Of course, the perfectionist in me would not allow that, so a re-write was commenced post haste!

So, here we go! I hope you all enjoy this revised/updated edition!

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing, MGM owns everything (except for my original characters and plot)!

1.

The suns had just risen when Dr. Elizabeth Weir walked into what many of Atlantis's residents had begun to affectionately refer to as the 'Galley'. Who was responsible for this new nickname, she did not know (although she did have her suspicions). However, it certainly did no harm. In fact, it actually seemed to lend more of a relaxed atmosphere to the somewhat sterile environment of the room, so she had no objection to it. She supposed the name was even somewhat appropriate, considering that the city was really a ship – the fact that it was a space ship notwithstanding. And it did float on water, so…

With a small smile at her own foolishness, and a bemused realization that a particular spikey-haired Colonel was rubbing off on her a bit too much, she shook her head and did a quick scan of the room. Clusters of people were seated at tables scattered throughout the space, and at first she was a little surprised by how full it seemed. Smiling ruefully, she remembered that her eating habits – on the off chance that she actually took some time away from her work to get something to eat – didn't exactly coordinate with the normal schedule of the majority of those serving under her command. Given the excessively dedicated leader's odd and inconsistent hours, it was pretty much guaranteed that very few people would be in the dining area on the rare instances that she actually decided to venture there for her much needed (but often ignored) nourishment.

For the fifth straight night, Elizabeth had been up well past midnight. She was feeling a little run down, truth be told. (Of course, she would never admit such a thing.) Consequently, she had gotten a later start that morning than was her usual habit. She would actually have been up even later the previous night had a certain Scottish doctor not made some pretty astonishing threats – not the least of which involved him telling one Rodney Meredith McKay that his e-mails were the absolute highlight of her day. Even more astonishing, he'd threatened to tell the excitable scientist that she would actually prefer them to be longer, more detailed, and more frequent.

Who'd have thought that CARSON could be so devious?! The man was far too astute for his own good. He had known that attempting to use his authority as CMO to temporarily remove her from duty would have very little effect. Knowing Elizabeth's tendency to do work even when she wasn't technically working, he didn't even attempt that route…but resorting to that? It was a low blow in her opinion. Even using her extremely honed and effective negotiation skills could not get her anywhere with the man. He was a rock! His stubbornness had actually outmatched her own – a feat not easily accomplished, as many could well attest. Needless to say, she had gone to bed...albeit, unwillingly. Unsurprisingly, Carson did not care a wit whether she did it willingly or unwillingly, just so long as she did it.

All of a sudden, her mind's eye was filled with the smirking face of her Second in Command...the very last person she would have wanted knowing about her enforced bedtime. Her eyes narrowed as if the impudent man was actually there, standing right in front of her. Shut up, John.

With another little shake of her head and a wry expression on her face, Elizabeth wearily stepped over to the buffet-style counter. She quickly scanned the morning's offering and was pleasantly surprised to discover an assortment of fresh fruit. Maybe I should try to come to the scheduled meal times more often, after all. She placed a bunch of something closely resembling grapes on her tray and then grabbed her usual yogurt and cup of coffee (black today - definitely black - and strong), turning back to the main portion of the room. She automatically began walking to her typical seat at a solitary table near the windows, but her progress was interrupted when her attention was drawn to the sound of laughter coming from one of the corners. She turned her head and couldn't help but smile as she spotted the group responsible for the sounds of merriment. Of course it would be them! Her smile grew wider as one of the party caught her eye, then waved her over with a smile of her own.

Without hesitation, Elizabeth altered her course. Carefully maneuvering over to the table – much of her weariness all but forgotten - she took a seat and nodded to her friend. "Good morning, Teyla."

The smaller woman's smile was warm, though also tinged with an curious humor, as she returned the nod. "Elizabeth."

The leader narrowed her eyes in amused suspicion, causing the other woman to giggle – actually giggle! Teyla Emmagan, the 'warrior princess' of the Athosian people, giggling! Seemingly realizing that she had done something somewhat out of character for her – and that it would certainly not go unnoticed by the ever observant Dr. Weir - the smaller woman feigned nonchalance and took a dainty sip her half-empty cup of tea.

Elizabeth was not at all fooled and stared fixedly at her friend for a moment, but no explanation seemed to be forthcoming. Relenting, she turned her attention to the others and acknowledged them all with a slight nod and a small smile of greeting. She studied each one of their faces in turn, taking note of the varying levels of mirth in their expressions - especially on one face in particular - and raised an eyebrow slightly. She was growing more curious by the second, but her experience as a negotiator was serving her well. No one at that table could have guessed how curious she really was. She, on the other hand, could read each of them like a book.

It took no time at all to determine who was responsible for the current state of this eclectic group – despite his blatantly obvious attempt to look innocent – but she chose to bypass him and go straight to the weakest link. "Good morning, Rodney."

The scientist's eyes flitted up, then back down to the table. "Oh…uh…good morning, Elizabeth." Attempting to look casual, he unthinkingly took a drink from his freshly refilled coffee cup. Instantly, the expression on his face turned pained as he reflexively spit the steaming beverage out…straight across the table and onto an unsuspecting Ronon Dex.

There was stunned silence around the table as Rodney stared at the big Satedan in horror. No one moved as Ronon – his face a mask - slowly looked up from his now coffee stained shirt to the scientist uneasily fidgeting across from him.

Rodney nervously licked his lips and put his hands up, palms facing outward in a weak attempt at placating. "Now…ah…there is no need to overreact here. It was just an accident."

He glanced around the table, searching for affirmation. "I mean…you all saw that, right?"

He gestured to his mug, "That coffee is hot! Scalding, really. I burned my tongue…..I probably have second degree burns."

"And yet, it doesn't seem to have affected your ability to talk. Pity."

Rodney gave the man sitting next to him as scathing a look as he could manage. "Ha ha ha…..very funny, Sheppard! We'll see how funny it is when my tongue swells up!"

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard merely smirked, then subtly winked at the ladies seated across from him. "I look forward to it."

Rodney glared at him, then at the women who were trying their best to keep straight faces. "This is not a laughing matter."

"No, it's not."

The scientist's attention instantly snapped back to the big man who had just ominously spoken. "Ah…look, Ronon…it was an accident…really."

He began to shake a little under the steady glare of the large warrior across from him. "As I just explained…uh…" He weakly gestured once again to the mug. "…the coffee is quite hot…extremely hot, actually…um…"

Stony silence and a hard, unblinking stare from one pretty intimidating Satedan caused the now fully quivering Rodney to break. "Okay! I'm sorry! Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm sorry that some idiot heated the coffee to such an extreme temperature that it burned my mouth - quite possibly doing permanent damage - and forced my body to understandably expel it!"

Beads of sweat formed on the man's forehead as he agitatedly shifted in his seat, waiting to see if his 'apology' would be accepted. Then, in a pitiful attempt at bravado, he added, "Can I help it that you happened to be sitting directly across from me?"

Elizabeth had begun to feel rather unnerved by Ronon's unwavering stare, herself. Something is not right here. She frowned when she heard Rodney's last comment, knowing that it would not go over particularly well with the man currently covered in a mixture of coffee and spittle. She could only hope that Ronon was in a forgiving mood that morning. Glancing at his face, however, caused that hope to shrink and her unease to grow.

Faster than she would have ever thought possible (even for him), Ronon exploded out of his seat and reached towards the terrified Canadian. The incredibly forceful motion sent Teyla flying from her seat into a wall and forced Elizabeth to awkwardly stumble sideways out of her own chair, barely keeping herself from spilling painfully onto the floor. Regaining her balance with a focused effort, she whipped back towards the group. She was dismayed to discover Teyla lying in an unconscious heap on the floor. Swiftly moving over to her fallen friend, she confirmed she was still breathing and relatively unharmed…as far as she could tell with only a hasty perusal. Somewhat relieved by the steady rising and falling of the other woman's chest, as well as a lack of any blood visible anywhere on her person, she gave her full attention to the men.

What little relief the discomfited leader had experienced instantly evaporated. To her horror and disbelief, the Satedan's left hand had changed into a shiny point that he had then plunged into the forehead of the fear-paralyzed man before him.

"Rodney!"

This can't be happening!

The stunned scientist cried out in agony as Elizabeth instinctively started to move towards him, but she reflexively took a step backwards when Ronon suddenly turned his cold eyes towards her. As she looked into them, she instantly became chilled to the bone. The eyes drilling into her were no longer those of her friend, but of the one being she hated most in the universe: Oberoth.

This isn't possible!

She could not contain the involuntary gasp that escaped her lips. The sight was more than enough to freeze the blood in her veins, but it got impossibly frostier when he began to speak. Even his voice belonged to that loathsome enemy – a voice that she would NEVER forget for as long as she lived. "We may have been defeated, but you still have not won. No matter what you do, you will never be able to protect them."

Another gasp escaped from Elizabeth as Ronon's features changed yet again – this time morphing into that of a Wraith. His right hand shot out, latching onto Colonel Sheppard's chest. John stared at her helplessly, as rapidly his hair turned white and his features aged. "Elizabeth…"

"NO!"

Elizabeth suddenly shot upright in bed, trembling and drenched in sweat. She frantically looked around the room, her eyes desperately seeking her endangered friends. Breathing heavily, she stared unblinkingly into the darkness. She desperately tried to focus her erratic thoughts, but the fog of confusion created by her jarring leap from asleep to awake made her initial attempts unsuccessful. Several moments passed before her rapid heartbeat began to calm and reality was finally able to slowly break through her disorientation. She was not in Atlantis at all, but in her own quarters on the Asuran ship that had been her residence (she never thought of it as her home) ever since she had escaped from imprisonment on the now destroyed Replicator planet.

Her friends were not here.

It was a bittersweet realization.

Tears formed in her eyes as she hugged her legs tightly to her body, trying unsuccessfully to still her trembling. Grasping for any shred of serenity that could possibly be had, she reached for a soft and colorfully woven Athosian blanket that rested at the end of her bed. It was the only thing she had that ever made her feel any kind of personal security. (She refused to think of it as anything even remotely akin to a 'security blanket', however. Grown women did not have security blankets - especially not grown women who were half replicator.) Some time ago, she had found it amongst wares for sale by one of the Athosian's former trading partners. To say she had been delighted would be an understatement. No longer having anything at all of home or family, it always brought her great comfort. (She did think of Atlantis as her home, just as much as – if not more than – Earth. She also considered those living in it just as much family as her own mother.) She sighed as she wrapped herself in the coverlet and burrowed into its gentle warmth, leaning back against the wall and reflecting on this most recent dream. She shuddered. It had been months since she had had a nightmare like that. She wiped the tears from her face and sniffed. "Why now?"

But the cold room had no answers to give her…

TBC