A/N: Ask Me No Questions takes place in Canon time after Atlantis has landed on Earth outside San Francisco. I was personally thrilled at the location as it gave me a chance to write an SGA story in my old stomping grounds around the SF Bay Area. The story is finished minus a last pass or two at editing, so I'll post chapters fairly rapidly over the next week as they get their final polish on. I also freely admit that there is NO position in the DHS called Director of Communication to Border Security. I made it up to suit the story. Deal!

2 Days Ago

"I don't know how you do it, Nancy. I've spent a month on the phone with the Air Force and the Navy trying to sort this mess out."

Nancy Harrison smiled at the Director of California's Department of Homeland Security. They were walking down a long, plain hallway with tiled floors that rather made her feel like she was back in elementary school. At least the windows looking out over the marshes of South San Francisco Bay were pretty.

"That's why I get paid the big bucks, Matt." Matt scoffed appreciatively at the joke and Nancy went on, "But honestly it had more to do with the Title and the timing than any skill on my part. The Air Force doesn't pay much attention until someone at the Federal level starts talking."

"That was the impression I got, too. The Navy guys are getting their strings pulled by the Air Force otherwise they'd have been willing to sit down with us a month ago. Why is the Air Force calling the shots on this particular square footage of ocean anyway? Makes no damn sense to me."

"I have no idea either. But something happened a week ago that's got them talking at least."

"Something?"

"Something," Nancy sighed. "I can't get an inch past the Red Ink the Air Force has on that patch of ocean, but all of a sudden they were calling me and asking for meetings."

"Interesting. Well, you're the one to run that meeting and I'm glad you're here. To tell you the truth, the Air Force pissed me off and I'm not likely to be feeling very polite. We've got a thousand miles of coastline to protect here and they act like their little patch of Top Secret is the only thing out there."

"I do have a special talent with the Air Force," Nancy admitted grudgingly.

"And why is that?" Matt's voice was idly curious and Nancy wrinkled her nose at the unwise comment that had let a personal topic slip into the conversation.

"I was married to one for a while. Got good at figuring out what makes them tick. It's all about appealing to their sense of adventure."

Matt nodded, threw a mischievous smirk. "I won't consider the fact that you are not still married to this Air Force beau as evidence you have some work to do on figuring them out."

"Don't hold it against me. I figured him out. That's why we separated."

This time Matt laughed long and hard. "I understand completely. I've two exes in my skeleton closet." He winked. "They figured me out, too."

With that, they had arrived at the door to a conference room within one of the many Navy Buildings that the sprawling Mountain View, CA, Moffett Field offered. One of the other things she'd learned about dealing with the Air Force was that you had to let them feel like they were getting their way. She'd have preferred a more neutral government facility to gather in, rather than Navy/Air Force terrain. But the Air Force had insisted, claiming that Moffett had the required landing facilities for the 'special' craft their personnel had to use.

She'd suggested, oh so politely, that maybe they could arrive in a not-so-special aircraft for the convenience of the six other attendees, but the people at Peterson had hinted that if she wanted the right people at the meeting, she'd need to accommodate them. So she'd accommodated. When push came to shove, she'd rather have the decision makers at the table than some subordinate whose promises would only be overruled the second he went home.

Her primary function within DHS as Director of Communication to Border Security was to facilitate cooperation among the agencies that protected, defended, patrolled, or otherwise policed the borders of this country. There were some days she wondered if she could coordinate so much as a bake sale. When Matt had come to her begging for help, she knew this might be one of those days. She was definitely heading into deep waters. Pun intended.

The Navy Rep. was already camped in the room and she watched Matt put on his best "good ol' boy" face to meet and greet the guests. Inwardly, Nancy sighed at the glittering stripes on the Rep's uniform – dress uniform, no less. If the Navy had sent a Captain, then they'd gotten wind that this was some kind of pissing contest among branches and she was looking at an afternoon of ego and posturing.

She was just finishing her own introductions when the Coast Guard contingency arrived and she was gratified to see the local station chief himself heading up the group. She had talked with CWO Michael Perkins personally during the planning stages. She'd found him easygoing and personable. And as commander of the busiest Coast Guard station on the West Coast, Perkins had the most at stake in working around the disruption caused by Matt's "patch of Top Secret".

She greeted Chief Warrant Officer Perkins and watched carefully as the group of representatives and aides jostled for position at the table. She was left with her back to the door in the perceived "weak spot" of the room, but she'd learned how to turn that position to her advantage long ago. There was a moment as briefcases were opened, laptops were popped open and pens were pulled out. Then almost as if choreographed, the five men at the table looked up, as one, at her.

Nancy looked at her watch. The Air Force contingency was late. She risked a glance at Matt and caught his "I told you so" smirk. She was just preparing a mental list of topics they could discuss without the Air Force when the conference room door banged open behind her.

"Sorry we're late," announced a lighthearted, not-at-all-apologetic, and – holy shit! – familiar voice. "Had some trouble finding a parking spot."

Nancy froze in her seat and remained stuck while Matt hopped up and began to shake hands and murmur introductions. The Navy Captain was frowning as he waited. Nancy could almost see him calculating rank. CWO Perkins was looking interested but puzzled.

Damn him.

Finally taking a deep breath, she pushed herself off her chair and turned towards the crowd of new arrivals. The Air Force had sent not one representative, but four. To her further shock, three of them were civilians. The balding, bespectacled man was the true representative in the group she realized, summing up the deferential body language of the contingency. He introduced himself quickly as Richard Woolsey and introduced her to a Dr. McKay and then Mr. Ronon Dex.

"Hi, Nancy," Ronon said with an amused nod. "Good to see you again."

Nancy just nodded mutely back. Woolsey, however grew even more gregarious.

"Yes, of course. Colonel Sheppard warned me that you two were already acquainted." Nancy gave the man credit for keeping the statement innocent, although she filed away his choice of the word "warned" for further contemplation. "Colonel, I assume no introductions are necessary?"

Nancy couldn't delay the moment any further. Squaring her shoulders, she turned in the direction of Woolsey's gesture and looked up at John Sheppard. He also was decked out in full dress uniform, his hat tucked formally under his arm, his rakish hair slightly more rakish than usual from the hat's recent removal, his grin absolutely infuriating.

"Hello, Nancy," he said. Damn him again if he didn't wink at her. "Shall we begin?"