The world seemed at peace. Atlantis lay like a jewel on the glistening blue ocean. A quiet solitude shrouded the city and its inhabitants, and daily tasks were drawn out by the restful air that pervaded all. To Colonel Jon Sheppard, it felt like the hush before the storm. Something was coming, something that would turn their carefully crafted world upside down.

In the control room, Lt. Pierson leaned forward, peering at the odd readings flashing across his screen. They were out-of-place, at odds with the city's mood and completely contrary to all current data. He tapped in a few commands, cleaned up the signal and tapped the screen again. He could consider it a glitch and call one of the technicians, or he could rely on the expedition's uncanny ability to find unusual situations and call on his commander.

He opted for the latter.

'Ma'am? I'm reading unknown life signs in sector ten, level four, north-east quadrant.'

'How many?' the Colonel leaned over the console, her eyes on the screen. The lieutenant tensed automatically under the scrutiny of a commanding officer, especially one as seasoned and famous as Colonel Samantha Carter. Sam herself ignored his reaction, her presence on SG1 had brought her a kind of infamy and the best way to cope was to just to let it slide. Some of the stories had been blown out of all proportion anyway.

'I'm not sure, ma'am. One, maybe two, moving in very close proximity. The computer can't seem to make up it's mind.'

'What's down there?'

'Unknown. That sector hasn't been explored yet.'

Sam nodded, moving away. She caught sight of Sheppard sauntering across the main floor below in front of the Stargate, clipboard in hand. She'd finally managed to bully him into staff appraisals, as everything was quiet, life moving at an almost routine pace for the first time in a long time. Now, it would have to wait.

'Colonel!'

Sheppard looked up, catching sight of a blonde head and a hand waving him up to the control room. He glanced at the file in his hand and grinned, thankful for a break in his task and broke into a jog as he headed for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he cheerfully appeared at her side, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

'We have unknown contacts in the north-east sector of the city. I need you to take a team and check it out.'

'Life signs? How many?' he asked, squinting over Pierson's head for a look.

'One, possibly two signals. But that's no guarantee. Take your team and pull Rodney out of his lab, it might be a technical glitch.'

Sheppard nodded and turned away, running down the steps and calling to Ronan. Sam watched him go and turned back to co-ordinate efforts this side. If the city perimeter had been breached, they needed to know how and why as much as by whom and how many. If it were a breach at all. But out here, on the edge of the unknown, you could never be sure.

'Keep tabs on Sheppard's team and have Connell assemble a team on standby. Keep me appraised.'

The lieutenant nodded, and turned back to his station. Sam returned to her office, catching sight of McKay, heading for the armoury, the sour look on his face already apparent from this distance. This was the bit she hated, not gearing up and heading out there with her team. It was the worst cause of stress she had, and she'd begun to develop a whole new respect for Jack and General Hammond, realising the burden of command. Taking her seat, she tried to busy herself with other tasks, ignoring the itching in her fingers for a P90.

Downstairs, deep into the city, sector ten was dark, power-saving switched on throughout and Sheppard was just as happy with it that way. Sneaking up on an enemy was a little more difficult in broad daylight; darkness gave them the advantage in a surprise attack. He lifted a hand, moving his team forward smoothly, covering both front and rear. They'd done this so often now they could have done it in their sleep.

Still, everyone was alert, eyes and ears open, each of them wondering if the Wraith had found entry to the city, wondering if the signals were wrong and numbers they couldn't hope to match waited for them in the silent, darkened halls of level four.

They closed in on the room where McKay had pinpointed the source of the signal. Nothing had moved, not a single shadow had flickered and Sheppard had already checked in with the control room. This was it.

The Colonel swung round the corner, weapon held high, ready to throw himself out of the path of fire. Instead, more shadows met his gaze, dappled with sunlight streaming through two windows, the others destroyed, glass sprinkled liberally across the floor.

Memories rose, bubbling to the surface and spilling over. The blast that hit them, when he couldn't get the shields up fast enough and Elizabeth was injured. The day of the attack, thee day he hadn't been fast enough, or she had been too quick to break cover. The day she trusted him too much.

The day she had died.

Or may as well of, despite the apparation of life that had continued on in her, Eliabeth had died that day, everything she was had perished... He pushed the thoughts aside, focussing on the task at hand. One day, he'd have to sit down and think his way through everything that had happened. In the meantime, there were bigger things to occupy his mind. A fact that he was grateful for; a gratitude that sometimes made his guilt bite harder.

He stepped forward, very aware of the open space on either side of the doorway. Harry, a new addition to the team, but a seasoned soldier and a good one, moved up on his right, ready to take the other side. Together they swung around, Harry facing a blank wall, but Sheppard found himself holding a gun on a very familiar face who, in turn, held a pistol on him.

It was no match for the weapon he had in his hands, but it was Elizabeth's favoured choice, the one she had the most luck with as she put it. Truth be told, she found it easier to handle, either physically or mentally, he wasn't sure. A smaller gun was a threat, a larger weapon was a killer. And Elizabeth had never been one to go for the kill.

But from the look on her face now, she might just have changed her mind.

A second wave of memories swept over him, emotions conflicting. She was slumped in the curve of the wall, looking washed out and beaten. Her face was scratched, a slash across her cheek ran with fresh blood. Even her aim wavered, but the determination he read in her eyes reminded him so much of the old Elizabeth that it could have fooled him if he hadn't known better.

Replicator!

He surprised himself with the anger that spilled at the thought. How many times did he have to think her dead only to find her alive again? How many times would he have to stand aside and watch her die! It was over now. It should be over, dammit!

'Put down the gun.' The barely concealed contempt in his tone was clear and Harry spun behind him, training another weapon, another light, upon her. Her uniform was torn, bloodied. She was hurt worse than he'd seen at first glance-

He stamped on the thought. She wasn't hurt, it was a Replicator trick, that was all. The anger fled and he felt as cold as ice. Dark eyes widened, flicking briefly to Harry then back to him. She was surprised. Confused. He could see it.

'Sir?' It was Harry, wondering why they were holding their guns on Atlantis' dead commander.

'It's not her, Harrison!' Sheppard's voice had the advantage of being sure, even if, deep down inside, he wasn't. 'It looks like Weir, but it's not her.'

'Jon?' Her voice - confused, upset, familiar; it bit deep but his aim never wavered.

Neither did hers.

'Jon? You're alive?'

'I could say the same about you.'

Her other arm was across her chest, angled up towards the opposite shoulder. For a second he thought she'd broken it. Now, in the combined light, she seemed to be carrying something, a thought that was enforced when she glanced down, just for a split-second and then back at him.

'I don't-,' her breath failed her and her aim wavered, she swallowed, starting again, 'I don't understand… I need to-to speak to your commanding officer…'

'Let's start with you putting the gun down.'

She hesitated, then nodded, slowly lowering her arm to place the gun on the ground, he could see the effort it cost her to move so slowly, but he held his position, watching her every move.

'Raise your hands in the air.'

'I can't.'

He almost repeated the instruction, but stopped, 'why?' he asked instead.

'This,' she nodded to the bundle she was hugging to her chest. Keeping his weapon trained on her, he waved Harry over. The soldier moved round her in a slow arc, never letting her out of his sights. She kept her eyes on him until he stepped closer and peered at her burden.

Tucked inside the armoured vest, under her shirt, a tiny face peered out, a piece of tubing still taped to his cheek. He shifted the focus of the torch, looking her over from head to toe. The body armour had been let out, he could see the straps were looser than they should have been. She was propped up on a rucksack, leant against the wall. Her leg was bleeding badly, a bullet or a stab wound, he couldn't tell from here.

'Je-suss,' Harry breathed.

'What is it?' Sheppard demanded.

'Colonel… it's a baby.'

The Colonel looked at him, his eyes wide. He nearly asked Harrison if he was sure, but stopped himself and spoke to the pseudoElizabeth before him instead.

'Okay, we're going to disarm you and then we're all going to go upstairs. After you've handed over the baby to Harrison. Ronan!' he raised his voice slightly, 'we need you in here.'

'I can't.' It was the Replicator, as he thought of her.

'Can't what?'

'Hand over the baby. He's very weak. Right now, I'm the only thing between him and freezing to death. I need to hand him over to Dr Keller, he needs to go into an incubator as soon as possible. He never should have been removed.'

'Then why-?'

'The Wraith.'

Sheppard nodded, wary, his sense of caution heightened under her intense scrutiny. 'You're dead,' she said again, her voice a whisper. She shook off the confusion, it didn't matter now. 'Please Jon.'

Inwardly he winced, outward, not a sign. 'Yeah, okay.'

He moved forward, leaving Harrison and Ronan to cover him. He found clips, another weapon, a knife and removed them all. He stepped back and turned on the radio, hearing it crackle into life, he'd been longer than five minutes and a relief team was probably on it's way down. When Carter said five minutes, she meant it.

'This is Sheppard. We need a medical team down here!'

A voice came back through, answering in the affirmative, then Carter was on the line and he gave her a brief rundown whilst Keller asembled her team. Finally he clicked off the radio and crouched opposite their intruder, weapon across his knees watching her with narrow-eyed suspicion.

'Jon. What's going on?' she asked, watching the wary faces surrounding her.

'You're a walking, breathing dead person who's already come back as a Replicator twice, what d'you expect?' he replied calmly. 'Now, mind telling me how you got in here?'

She lifted her arm, wincing, and pointed at the only intact window in the room. 'Quantum Mirror,' she replied.

'What?!'

'The windows, they're Mirrors,' her eyes slid shut for a long moment and when she opened them again it was to look down at the baby in her arms, listening for signs of breath. Apparently satisfied, she let her head roll back against the wall.

'All of 'em?'

She nodded, her eyes closed, losing the battle to stay conscious.

'Elizabeth!'

Her eyes jerked opened, her gaze unfocussed. Maybe it was shock or blood loss.. Sheppard shook his head, he was beginning to think of her as human, losing the firm comfort of believing she was a Replicator.

'Jon? Tell Jennifer that he was nine weeks premature…' she was fading in and out, 'his records… in the rucksack… don't let him die…'

'Who is he? Elizabeth! Focus!' She looked at him, but her eyes were vacant, like she didn't really see. 'Who is he?' Sheppard repeated, his voice urgent.

'Jonathan… Jonathan McKay,' her voice was a whisper, failing her, 'your namesake… we nearly lost him too…' her eyes rolled shut and this time, he couldn't rouse her.

Noise, outside in the corridor, voices and footsteps alerted him to the arrival of the medical team. Keller ran in, dropping her rucksack, placing her fingers against Weir's neck, her own shock at the sight absorbed by her automatic response to a casualty situation.

'Careful doc, she could be-'

'I know Colonel, but right now she appears human, she's in shock and she's lost a lot of blood. I'm not prepared to isolate and scan her first, we could lose her. Help me!' she instructed the medics who jumped to her aid, helping her remove the vest and disengage the infant wrapped inside Weir's clothes.

They worked in near silence, Keller barking short orders whilst Sheppard and team stood by, watchful for the slightest wrong move on Weir's part, until finally the doctor gave the order.

'Okay, let's get them to the infirmary!'