Disclaimer: I don't own SGA or any of it's wonderful characters.

Author's Note: So, my original What If turned into something longer and larger, so here's another entry. Coming in at 500 words minus disclaimer and author's note, a wonderful "What If?" from DaniWilder. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Ronon glared as he walked out of the Jumper. He truly didn't mind what had happened back on the planet, but he didn't want anyone asking him about it, either. The answers were too personal. So, with his customary glare, he endured the stares and snickers at his expense.

The ZPM on M7G-677 had fritzed. Again. McKay needed to fix the device in order to protect the kids, and Sheppard insisted that Ronon go with him. After all, he was the only team member available with Sheppard laid up after his reckless rescue of Teyla. And no one was about to take Teyla away from her newborn son. So, Ronon went, along with Lorne.

The Satedan glanced over his shoulder at the major who also left the Puddle Jumper. Both men had been captured by the kids. Lorne talked about his nephews and laughed freely with the children. Ronon, however, had simply sat. One little girl sidled up to him, her thumb in her mouth as she listened to Lorne's silly story. Before he knew it, she'd crawled into his lap and had fell asleep in a ball. Several other, younger children gathered around him. He felt first one, and then another reach up to touch his dreads.

Before long, both he and Lorne had been surrounded by gleeful children with paints and flowers. They tried and failed miserably to put Lorne's short hair into little pigtails. The major complained good-naturedly, his eyes twinkling as he tried to get away from the kids. Ronon, however, endured in silence. Holding the little girl affected him almost as deeply as holding Teyla's baby yesterday. He couldn't believe the level of trust that these children placed in him.

"What's this?" The high-pitched voice and tug on his dreads brought his head around.

Another little girl glared. "Don't be silly. It's a knife."

"But why is it in his hair?"

"So he can get to it, stupid."

Ronon sputtered at that. "Hey. No one is stupid." Internally, however, he laughed. He'd shared conversations like that with his sister before she died. Thinking of her, he fell silent.

By the time McKay returned, the children had collected two more knives from his hair and completely covered his head with flowers and various strands of ribbon. They couldn't do much for the dreads, but they tried anyway. Lorne, however, wore the face paint. They'd tried to paint Ronon's face, but he refused. Too much like Wraith tattoos for his comfort. Watching Lorne get "gussied up," as the major called it, had been worth every minute.

Back on Atlantis, Lorne endured comments about taking his art too seriously. And Ronon simply endured the stares. No one was brave enough to say anything. Later, while removing the stuff from his hair, he hesitated over a strand of braided string. It reminded him of his sister, of the glorious days they'd shared in childhood, and he left it tied to his hair as a reminder of what he'd lost.