A/N: A strange little scene popped into my head one day while driving. It had no story, no real plot to speak of at all, but it made my brain itch until I wrote it down. Then the story started to unfold with the help of several Starbucks grande soy lattes with a shot of peppermint. Each chapter is little short, only a little more than 1200 words each. And yes, I know, there are plot holes large enough to sail an aircraft carrier through. All I can say is, it's sci-fi, with a heavy emphasis on the fi. And it's AU.

A very special thank you to Alysia Ariana (MyWorld1) over at DeviantArt for the amazing cover art. She has created several wonderful Stargate pieces.

Please see the original on my profile page.

Stargate Atlantis, post Season 4, AU

"There's something to be said about the colors in your head

And how they mix to form the perfect shade of sadness ...

It's just the story of our lives

We wish we had this."

Andrew Belle - "All Those Pretty Lights"

Chapter One

The line of cars stretched in a seeming endless line. One after another they inched forward at 40 miles per hour, then slammed on the brakes, only to speed up for three or four feet. It was maddening. The day was already getting hot, and the baby was starting to fuss, and damn-it-all if they didn't reach that exit soon, things were going to get real.

John gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes scanning, planning his next two maneuvers. An elderly woman was in the next lane staring straight ahead but she had fallen a foot back. One more pump forward and John knew he could jump in front of her. He poised, watching the cars twenty or so in front as their brake lights dimmed. Like a cascade of dominoes the lights dimmed in front of him until it was their turn. A quick glance at the grandma, and John shot forward and to the right, neatly cutting her off. A thrill surged through him, and John drummed a victory dance on the wheel.

"That was quite rude, John." His wife spoke serenely from the passenger seat without looking at him. Keeping one eye on their progress, John glanced at her.

"She's not in a hurry. We are, Teyla." The baby let out an unhappy sound from his car seat behind them as if to emphasize John's point. He raised his eyebrows at Teyla, tipping his head back towards the rear seat. Teyla frowned.

"We have no idea what her intentions are." Teyla drew a small comb from her yoga bag and ran it through her already perfect hair. The baby let out a frustrated squall, and Teyla sighed. "Are we almost there yet?"

"What do you think?" John growled. Teyla looked ahead at their position as they edged closer to the exit ramp as if they had never driven this very road before. She could have been gazing at a cow field, she looked that disinterested.

"I think we're going to be late."

"Well, no kidding! That is why I cut the old lady off!" The line jerked forward again, and now John could see the traffic light at the end of the ramp. It was blinking red. At this rate it was going to take another ten minutes just to reach the intersection. Unless he could get it fixed.

John snatched his cell phone from the cup holder and hit the speed dial. Two rings later and a distracted McKay picked up. "What?"

"McKay, the light it out at Interstate and Broadway. Hack in, fix it, do whatever to get that thing green for the exit."

"Seriously? I'm in the middle off-"

"NOW McKay!" John shouted, acutely aware of Teyla's disapproving sniff. The baby began crying in earnest, and Teyla reached a hand between the front seat to stroke his head, her eyes narrowing in John's direction.

"Alright, alright! Jeez, Sheppard, just let me ... there, it's green. Happy now?"

"Very." John gave Teyla a cheeky smirk and moved into gear. "I owe you, McKay" They moved forward smoothly, and the baby quieted as they sped up. John shifted as they made the light and turned right, then switched lanes again passing two cars before cruising down Broadway.

"I'll just put it on your tab." McKay disconnected the call.

"I'm not sure that was completely ethical," Teyla began then hurried to interrupt John's imminent rant. "Yet it did benefit more than just us, so I suppose in the cosmological scheme of things ... it was not that bad."

"Not that bad is not that bad." John grinned. Teyla smiled at his boyishness, drawing her arm back and rolling her shoulder. Five minutes later they arrived at the center. John parked the car and opened the back door. Teyla gathered up her yoga mat and bag while John unlocked the infant carrier and slung the diaper backpack over his shoulder. The small family hurried up the sidewalk that bordered the modern building on one side and an Asian garden on the other. They reached the front entrance and John reached his free arm to pull open one half of the doorway when Teyla stopped him. Her hand was gripping his arm tightly, and he looked first from her hand then to her face. Her mouth had dropped open in shock at what she saw, and John swiftly looked ahead, trying to understand what had upset her.

The entrance was circular, two halves forming the doors, and each with a smooth silver pull handle. The wood was a pale wood that had been recently been rubbed with a light blue finish. The frame was an arch of grey stone, that if it continued into the floor would have formed a perfect circle. They had been here once before when Teyla had been interviewed for the yoga instructor position. The door had been yellow that day, but he didn't understand what had her so rattled.

"What is it? What's wrong?" John pulled Teyla a few feet back away from the entrance.

"John! Oh my. Do you see that?" Teyla dropped her mat and bag. Her eyes raked over the door, then searched his face.

"The new paint? Sure, yeah, it looks okay." John ran his thumb across her cheek. "Does it bug you?"

"No, the paint is fine. I am being foolish." Her eyes drew into herself.

"Something bothered you," John nudged her. Teyla looked back at the entrance, biting her lower lip.

"Yes. John, have you ever had the feeling that something was not quite right? That our lives were not what they were supposed to be?"

"All the time," he shrugged.

"I am being serious. When I saw the doorway, it ... tingled in my mind. Like a memory of a dream. I have seen that doorway before John. I think we both have." Teyla pointed John towards it. "Does it seem at all familiar to you?"

John shifted the infant carrier as he cocked his head, considering the door. Teyla was a very intuitive person, and he trusted her. He traced the stones that formed the frame, each one rounded and smooth. A symbol was carved into each one representing different cultural paths to peace and enlightenment. At least that is what he assumed they were. He frowned. Teyla nodded.

"You see it too?"

"Maybe..." John turned back to Teyla and they stared into each others eyes. "But the symbols are wrong, aren't they?"

"I believe so, yet I cannot remember what they are supposed to be," Teyla sighed in frustration. Torren gurgled at that moment, and she suddenly came back to where they were.

"And now I really am late," Teyla picked up her things. "I am sorry, Colonel. I must get to work." She hefted the carrier onto her hip and moved toward the door that minutes before had so distressed her.

"Teyla, wait!" John caught up to her. "Stop. What did you call me?"

"I don't know," Teyla said, confused.

"You called me Colonel. Why in the world would you do that?" John searched her face as his heart began to hammer.

Teyla's breath increased as she looked up at John. "Colonel? I called you Colonel?" John nodded. Intuition washed over Teyla and she touched his chest, smoothing two fingers along his row of buttons in the center. "You are Colonel Sheppard. I am Teyla Emmagan. And we ... we are not married."