She walked the streets and corridors of the nearly empty city, keeping silent vigil. This was her home, and to watch over it was both her duty and her joy.
She started today, as she almost always did, in the part of the city that was off limits to the others until it could be explored further. It would take a while for them to get here, she knew. There was so much to learn, so many buildings lying dormant, many of them more important to the military minds of the current residents than those that lined this corridor. This is where the citizens of Atlantis had once lived; going about doing those things that people every where did on a day to day basis. They worked, played, shopped, cleaned, ate, drank. They laughed and they cried. They lived as all people do; believing that their life would go on forever, and fearing that they were wrong.
Wandering, without consciously choosing her path, she found herself in a large, circular atrium that opened to the air and was surrounded by small rooms, mostly of the same size and shape. She walked into the closest room and dragged her hand along a long table, letting her fingertips lightly brush the built-in consoles, and watching as each flickered in response. This had once been a school room, she knew, filled with the sound of hope, the voices of just beginning. A wistful smile crossed her face at the thought. She had hoped, someday, to have children, but work had always come first. She knew her time had past when he left, but every ending was a beginning and there was never time for regrets.
Her smile hadn't yet disappeared when she returned to the "streets". She had only taken a few steps, however, before a rhythmic pounding of feet forced to her to duck into a doorway. Curious as to who might be breaking the rules set for their own protection, she cautiously peered around the corner. Her smile broadened as she saw the two figures running down the corridor. She should have known.
"You're kidding right?" the shorter of the two was saying. "You aren't seriously suggesting we add this way to our route every day?"
"Well, if you can't handle the extra miles, I understand." The taller man's voice revealed the shrug his athletic body couldn't actually pull off at the moment. "I'll just have to find a younger partner for my runs."
"Right. That's it. You asked for it." Sheppard lunged and, wrapping his arms around the bigger man's legs, tackled Ronon, so that he fell; face first, right in front of the doorway from which she had been watching. Sheppard quickly stood and sprinted ahead, unaware that his friend had not followed. He had only gone past two buildings when he stopped, turned, and found Ronon standing with his weapon drawn, staring into the darkness of one of the buildings. He drew his own weapon and walked back. "What is it?"
"I thought I saw something in there." Ronon looked tense, but unsure.
"Some thing or some one?" Sheppard peered into the darkness, straining with every sense to catch even a hint that something was wrong. "I don't see anything."
"Neither do I… now." Slowly, Ronon lowered his weapon. "It must have been a trick of the light."
"Yeah." Sheppard holstered his own weapon, and then shoved the big man, barely moving him. "Or… you just needed to rest that old, tired body of yours."
Ronon shoved him back, almost causing Sheppard to fall, and then took off at an easy, loping jog. "You can call me old when you catch me."
"Great. I'm running with the Gingerbread Man." Sheppard sighed and took off at a full run.
Coming out of her hiding place, she laughed silently as she continued along her rounds. Maybe she did have children after all.
Returning, eventually, to the inhabited parts of the city, she found her way to the one of the labs currently used by the science teams. She stood, quietly unnoticed, watching as two men stared at a screen filled with the scratches that represented the language they knew best.
"I tell you that these are the correct calculations. I've checked them at least ten times." Zelenka ran his fingers through his thinning hair and while, to some, he probably looked unsure of his statement; from her vantage point she knew that he was taking a stand. She also knew that the other man would never give in.
"If by correct you mean you could use these calculations to blow up this entire section of the city, then I heartily agree, but if you really want to make this thing work, I suggest you check those calculations ten more times." McKay took a sip from his mug and made a face. "Well, this is simply wonderful. Now my coffee, if you can call this brown colored water from hell coffee, is cold." He stalked off, pretending that he didn't understand the string of Czech swearing being intoned in a voice just loud enough to hear.
She watched Zelenka stare a hole into the back of McKay's head and then, slowly, as if it was almost killing him to do so, turn back to the screen and the calculations he was no longer quite so sure of. She had known he'd go back to the equation. Her father had been a scientist as well, and she understood the all-consuming need to know, and to know for sure. Moving closer, but not so close that she would interfere, she followed Zelenka's finger as it moved across the screen, slowing now and again as he reworked the equation over and over, looking for what ever it had been that McKay had seen, unwilling to ask him to show him his mistake. After running through it the third time, the slight man removed his glasses and looked closer, a frown of concentration creasing his brow. Slowly he deleted a line and added another. Sitting back with a sigh, he replaced his glasses and shook his head, said something in Czech, followed by, "He's right again."
Her rounds next led her to the infirmary. She barely managed to suppress the shudder that always found its way to the surface when she crossed this particular threshold. This was probably her least favorite place in the whole city yet, over the years, she had spent more time in here than any doctor had ever done. She was pleased; however, to find that today at least there were only two occupants, Teyla Emmagen and Dr. Beckett. The Athosian sat on the examination table, suffering the gentle ministrations of the doctor with a forced smile and incredible politeness. "This is quite unnecessary, Doctor," she said, as the doctor wordlessly continued his examination. "I would have not have bothered you if Major Lorne had not insisted."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of what's necessary, eh?" the doctor replied, in that trust me I'm a doctor voice that set even their silent watcher's nerves on edge. "I must say," Beckett continued, in a voice that contained his true concern, "the Major was very worried. Seems he thought he may have hurt you during your session." Beckett looked up to examine the face of his patient, hoping for a clue as to what could be wrong. The only answer Teyla would provide was to cross her arms and to raise her eyebrows, silently reminding the doctor how unlikely she felt it could be that even a skilled warrior like Major Lorne could have gotten the best of her. "He seemed to think that you were just a bit slow in getting up after your last round."
When the doctor gently, but firmly, pressed his hand against her side, Teyla flinched and the smile turned, for the briefest of moments, to a grimace of pain. "That's a bit tender, then, is it?" Unfolding the small woman's powerful arms, he carefully explored the extent of the injury. "It seems Major Lorne was quite right to insist you see me. I think you may have bruised a couple of your ribs." He turned to wash his hands as Teyla bent to try to see the damage for her self. "Of course, we'll need a set of x-rays to confirm that it's nothing worse."
From her vantage point, she watched as the doctor saw to the x-rays and then wrapped Teyla's ribs, all the while keeping up a patter that focused on city gossip, good natured ribbing about Teyla "falling" for Major Lorne, and a graphic speculation on just what today's lunch might do to the insides of anyone unwise enough to eat the brown stuff: anything to keep Teyla's mind off of what was going on. Despite his cheerful banter, the watcher was worried about Doctor Carson Beckett. He was by profession, and by nature, a healer, a care taker of humanity, and yet, he was placed by circumstance in a life of war; forced each day to make decisions that no man of medicine should ever have to make. She knew he didn't sleep well at night. She could often feel the pain he tried so hard to hide from others through a growing gruffness that belied his tender soul.
"There we are," Beckett said, as he secured the elastic bandage. "That wasn't all that bad, now was it."
"No," Teyla stood and pulled her tunic to cover the visible sign of her defeat. "You were very gentle. Thank you." A look of concern crossed her face. "I will be allowed to go on the mission today, will I not?"
Though his patented doctor smile never left his face, something like sorrow passed through Beckett's eyes. "Well, that would be up to Colonel Sheppard, I suppose, but I see no medical reason why you should be left behind."
She followed the woman out of the infirmary and walked with her, unnoticed, as she strode toward her quarters. Normally, she would not enter a crew member's quarters without permission, but something in the warrior's eyes made her know that she would not be unwelcome. The life of any warrior is a lonely one, she knew this more than most, and this young woman was perhaps more alone than any in the city. Teyla Emmagen had been a leader of her people, a negotiator among humans, and beloved by her family, yet she had left all to join this people related to her only through ancient genetics and a common enemy. She watched as Teyla readied herself for both battle and negotiation and wondered which she would prefer to find on the other side of the gate. Teyla stood before the mirror and lifted her tunic to look at the wrapping. She touched it gently while smiling in the mirror. Slowly, she added pressure, watching her face as she did so. Never did her smile waver. She was ready to join her team at the gate.
Accompanying Teyla to the gate room, she remained with her as she joined Ronon, Sheppard and McKay. "Well, here she is." Rodney's acerbic tone revealed the roaring case of nerves he felt, but tried so hard to hide, especially from himself, whenever he walked through the gate. "Now maybe we can get on with this."
"I am sorry." Teyla showed no sign of being ruffled by the scientist's rudeness. "I was detained."
John moved closer and said in a voice meant only for Teyla to hear. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Teyla smiled. "I am fine. It was nothing."
"Nothing?" Rodney managed to hover between genuine concern and a need to be in the know. "What is nothing?"
"Nothing is nothing. Okay, McKay?" Sheppard cocked his head slightly and raised his eyebrows, letting Rodney that this was the end of the discussion.
After a bit of sputtering, Rodney smirked and opened his mouth to send out his stinging retort, but was prevented from delivery by Elizabeth's arrival.
"Good." She said. "I see we're all here." She was crisp and efficient; in full Commander Mode. "As you know, X5-7G49 is an unknown." She paused and looked directly at Colonel Sheppard. "I want the safety protocols strictly followed." John's look of complete misunderstood innocence was ignored by Elizabeth as she continued with her briefing.
Their observer left them to their work and slowly climbed the stairs to the office above. Alone in the room, she explored, touching things here and there, evoking memories. It amazed her how little things had changed. There was a basic utilitarian aspect to the office that was always there, and remained to this day; not Spartan exactly, but certainly there was very little that wasn't necessary, just a few nods to the personality of the current occupant. She looked down into the gate room, watching Elizabeth as she watched the others go through the gate. That's how it had to be. The person sitting in this office always had to be a part of and yet… apart from every team, of every lab, of every room in every building of this city. It was a heavy duty, an awesome responsibility, and a sacred trust.
The woman reached out and picked up a small orb that sat on the desk. It glowed softly in her hand and if she looked carefully into its depths she could see Atlantis at its prime; a thriving city, full of life. This orb had been given to her when she first entered this office as a reminder of all that had been lost in the wars, and all that she must work to regain. Every person who had ever sat behind this unassuming desk that represented so much power had been given the orb. She had hesitated giving it to Elizabeth, worried that this new Commander would never see what she and the others had seen… the true Atlantis. So the orb had remained dormant and she had stayed, watching, making her rounds, carrying the trust that had been placed with her.
The realization had been slow in coming, building each day, with each new walk around her city. They saw. They all saw. Each in their way, to be sure, but they all saw the city within. It was time, and she was ready. With great reverence, she brought the orb to her lips, causing the orb to glow brighter with the touch. Then, after once more gazing at the city she loved, she placed it in the middle of Elizabeth's desk, heartened to see that it still glowed softly even as it left her touch.
It was time to go now. The City belonged to them.