Author's Note: All hail, fair R/K shippers! As promised, the next epic! This story takes place after those fated events of Lost Tribe. Its going to be angsty, funny, dramatic, and suspenseful (of course... you know me too well!) It is a team fic based on the consequences of Jen's confession/admission to Ronon, and the fallout thereafter. I present this in the hope it will bring squeee hugs to all of you who broke your remote by chucking it at the TV last week. :) I'm writing it quickly (under direct pressure from the gun wielding plot bunnies) so any typos or mistakes are purely mine.

Hugs and kisses to all!

- Nika

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May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you are going, and the insight to know when you have gone too far..

Somehow, the old Irish saying her Great Aunt Mabel displayed on a plaque over her kitchen window wasn't so hard to understand these days.

Especially the ending.

Because time travel not withstanding… Jen was one DeLorean short of stopping a slow slide into insanity.

She'd tried just about everything she could think of to bury herself. Paperwork. Filing. Inventory. Reorganizing her office. Moving the furniture around in her room. Moving the furniture back. Walking. Hiding. Finding out where random city corridors went.

Time was passing with excruciating slowness, and the daylight hours were blurring together. She'd given up the day shift in lieu of the late night blackness, choosing to hide in the empty infirmary while the city slept. Then when the sun rose, she'd bury herself beneath her comforter and hide from everything else.

And no one seemed to even notice.

It felt rather appropriate… and not entirely undeserved.

She'd certainly stuck her foot in it this time. Oh sure, she'd made plenty of social blunders in the past… and several political blunders as well. Each time she'd been embarrassed for a few days - with people teasing her needlessly - but then eventually someone else would mess up and everyone would move on, thankfully leaving her behind.

But this time she didn't have anyone to make fun of her, and the embarrassment wasn't going away. She'd dug this hole all by her lonesome.

With a shake of her head she glanced quickly at her watch, confirming the ten minute window before her meeting with Mr. Woolsey.

She hesitated in the doors of the cafeteria, hoping it was still early enough to be empty. She was halfway to the buffet line when she heard Rodney's anguished protest at something someone had just said.

She winced internally, her step faltering, but she was too far in to turn back now. Grabbing a tray she quickly selected a muffin and a bottle of water. When she turned, he eyes caught, then quickly passed by the table in the back corner, it's occupants leaning on elbows or slouched in chairs as they finished their breakfast.

She turned her head before Rodney's hand left the table, praying it looked like she hadn't noticed. It was awkward enough just thinking about them, there was no way she was going to be able to face them in person. Any of them.

She'd made such a fool of herself.

But it wasn't without help, damn it!

Rodney just had to go and tell her he loved her. Not that he was completely himself when he did it, but it was still difficult enough to deal with when she worked so closely with him, and she couldn't ask him outright if he really meant it. Because if he had meant it… well that just made things go from embarrassing to awkward. Had she thought of him that way? Did she? Well… he was certainly nice when he tried to be… and… he was funny… although not always intentionally. And she really did think he was a great guy… but… friendship, absolutely… More? She didn't know. And every time she saw him now, his confession seemed to pop right into her mind and she had no idea how to talk to him without feeling… off kilter.

And then Ronon had gone all super-protective the past few weeks… Not that she didn't appreciate the sparring lessons… and she'd meant what she said about enjoying his company on the Daedalus. She had. Enjoyed it. He was… interesting. Not like other men. Different. She didn't mind different. She was different. For all the growling he was certainly smarter than he let on. And his sarcasm was really quite funny if you listened… But then in the middle of everything it had all gone to hell… and apparently so had her mind.

She already had half a dozen Marine's who were regular annoyances. Overly friendly? Overly attentive? There was a huge ratio difference in males to females in the city… and it was to be expected she supposed. She wasn't military so technically she was free goods. It was worse with the new recruits, but the regulars seemed to be permanently stationed in the city. There weren't any rules about dating civilians, and well, she supposed she was an unattached civvie on their radar. I didn't make dealing with them any easier… but she'd been managing just fine.

Until now.

With Rodney's confession, and the signals she was reading from Ronon, on top of everything else... Well, damn it, she'd panicked… Panicked. For lack of a better word.

Completely panicked.

She'd wanted to tell him it was a bad time and she wasn't really up for company for dinner. But it stuck in her throat. She'd wanted to tell him she didn't expect him to keep following her around. They were back in the city… she couldn't really get into any trouble here… She wanted to tell him he didn't have to feel obligated to keep her company any more. She wasn't expecting him to be her bodyguard. He didn't need to shadow her. He probably had better things to do.

Seriously, how hard could it have been to just say it?

I just want you to know… that you don't have to feel obligated to hang out with me.

I just want you to know… that I appreciate everything you've done, but I'm okay now.

I just want you to know… that I'm sorry I didn't listen to you up there.

I just want you to know…

A dozen different answers popped into her head but in the end she'd just come up with the same old lie she'd been using since she'd taken her first internship.

I just want you to know... that I'm interested in someone else.

It seemed to work with the Marines… you'd think it would work with intense Satedans.

Nope.

Because he wasn't interested in her.

He was just being nice.

A friend.

Something she had too few of… and now one less of because she'd pushed him away. His reaction had pretty much taken all the oxygen out of her lungs.

And then he'd left.

Just turned… and left.

Completely gone.

It wasn't what she wanted at all.

And now…

Hell, she could probably justify it a hundred ways to Sunday but she still couldn't believe the luck… or lack of it… to be faced now with SGA-1. If Ronon had mentioned anything about her misconception… or Rodney said anything about his confession… or… or if they'd by chance discussed her together… how was she supposed to be able to look any of them in the face again? She'd worked here long enough to know how the rumor mill operated… she'd just never considered herself locker-room material before. If Ronon and Rodney discussed it, then John would know, and Teyla would know, and pretty soon the whole damn base would know.

The horrific thought that her - albeit completely non-existent - private life was being discussed over everyone's breakfast turned her stomach. Heat rose to her face as she turned back to the buffet line and quickly set her tray back onto the pile. Snatching the water and the muffin she hurried out of the mess hall, hoping Mr. Woolsey would be early. Perhaps he wouldn't mind if she hid in his office while she ate.

"Jennifer certainly seems… distracted lately." Teyla watched with interest as their CMO change her mind and took her food to go.

"Hadn't noticed." John shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at the disappearing ponytail. When he turned back he caught the end of a glaring match between Ronon and Rodney. Something was definitely up between these two lately, but neither man would admit to any wrongdoing by the other. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but it had damn well better not affect their ability to work together.

"Perhaps I will talk to her." Teyla suggested, more to herself than to the others at the table.

"Couldn't hurt." John answered automatically, noting the frown that appeared on Ronon's face as the Satedan killed a chunk of scrambled egg with his fork.

Rodney winced as Ronon's knife then clanged against the plate.

"Okay you two." John announced, exasperated. "Out with it."

"Out with what?" Rodney looked up, wide eyed.

"With whatever you two are up to." John stared pointedly from one to the other.

"Who says we're up to anything!" Rodney protested. "At least, I'm not up to anything. I don't know about Rambo over here. And why would you automatically think there's something going on? It's not like-"

"Because, McKay…" John interrupted. "You babble when you're trying to hide something."

"I do not babble." Rodney crossed his arms.

"Do too." Ronon growled around a mouthful of food.

"Do not."

John rolled his eyes and glanced sideways at Teyla, who shrugged.

"Fine." John pushed his chair back and picked up his empty tray. "But whatever it is… work it out. I don't need you two getting distracted next time we're off world while someone's trying to kill us."

"Like that would make a difference." Rodney huffed.

"All I'm saying is, whatever you broke… fix it." Then he pointed directly at Ronon. "And no blood." With a quick shake of his head, John spun on his heel and left.

With his chin still lowered, Ronon glared at Rodney through his dreads. "No promises."

Rodney blanched.

"Ronon…" Teyla chastised.

Ronon shrugged. "Fine. No blood."

"Oh come on!" Rodney glared at Ronon. "We agreed…" Rodney snapped his mouth shut and glanced sideways at Teyla, who was looking at him from beneath raised eyebrows.

"You agreed to what, Rodney?" She asked, turning from him to Ronon.

"Nothing." Rodney exhaled, standing up and retrieving his tray. "Nothing at all." The scientist quickly dropped his tray off and exited the mess hall.

"Ronon." Teyla turned towards the Satedan. "What have you and Rodney gotten yourselves into?"

Ronon scraped his fork across his empty plate before dropping it on to the side of the tray. "Nothing."

"Ronon." Teyla tried again, her fingers landing firmly across his forearm.

"Teyla." He stared across the table at her and she was surprised at the anger he was fighting to control. "It's nothing, okay? Nothing." Then he dragged his arm away and stood up, taking his tray and leaving her alone at the table.

"Nothing is not something, Ronon." She stared after his retreating backside, her eyes narrowing. "And this is definitely something."