Early morning was the best time to do something like this. He wandered through the halls, carrying several packages and scanning the report on his tablet. In truth, the tablet was something of a ruse, making certain no one interrupted him. He'd wrapped the package brightly, ensuring that it would be noticed when its recipient entered her office. But he had put the package into another box, some place out of sight where people wouldn't ask questions. After all, he was seen carrying various packages and such all the time. The Daedalus's short stay on the pier had resulted in several departments needing extra supplies, and Atlantis had been happy to oblige.

The office was empty, and the night shift tired as they waited impatiently for the day crew to appear. He greeted them cheerfully, slipped into Dr. Weir's office, and set the tablet with the report on the desk. Taking a moment to put the box in place, he smiled at the not-so-perfect wrapping and left the room. He wished he could be around to see her expression when she found it, but he supposed that was the price one paid for being Atlantis's secret Santa.

oOo

Sheppard had actually slept peacefully the night before, likely the result of being so exhausted he couldn't see straight. Now, as Hermiod beamed him aboard the Daedalus, he straightened his shoulders and stepped smartly down the corridors. He'd arrived on duty that morning and had been told that Colonel Caldwell wanted to speak with him. He and the commander of the Daedalus had clashed many times, and Sheppard now understood why. Being a host to a Goa'uld was something he didn't want to even imagine.

The infirmary was much smaller than Atlantis's infirmary, but it was just as orderly. A set of screens had been set up to one end of the room, and Sheppard headed that way. He heard Caldwell's voice coming from behind the screens, clearly giving Marks some final instructions for the ride home. Until he was cleared of his involvement with the entire incident, Caldwell would remain confined to either the infirmary or his quarters. Those were the rules even if he'd been an unwilling participant. The IOA would likely want to mine his memories of his time as a Goa'uld and learn what the Trust wanted.

Clearing his throat, Sheppard waited until Marks motioned him in, and then he met Caldwell's eyes. "You wanted to see me, Sir."

Caldwell gave Marks a nod, and the other man slipped out of the cubicle. "Yes, Colonel. At ease."

Sheppard relaxed immediately.

Caldwell pushed himself up in the bed, wincing slightly. "These mattresses aren't the most comfortable, are they?" When Sheppard didn't say anything, he sighed. "Look, Colonel, I wanted to simply say thank you for what you did yesterday. If it wasn't for you figuring out what had happened. . . ."

"But we did figure it out," Sheppard interrupted. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're okay."

"Me, too." Caldwell shook his head. "I'll forever be grateful to Hermiod for beaming that thing out of my head, but he left me with quite the migraine."

"I can imagine." Sheppard shifted on his feet. "Listen, Colonel, you should know that we don't hold you responsible for what you did."

Caldwell waved a hand at his words. "Just keep watch over the city, Sheppard. You're doing a great job here, and, no matter what I may have said in the past, you belong here."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now get out of here and let me sleep." The words were so like the gruff ship's commander that Sheppard smiled.

"Yes, Sir." He turned to go.

"And Sheppard?"

"Yeah?"

"If I don't see you before then, Merry Christmas." Caldwell never opened his eyes.

Sheppard left the Daedalus with his frown firmly in place. He'd actually forgotten what time of year it was. Granted, being taken hostage by Ford and his enzyme-addicted men, getting stuck in the Ancient sanctuary that made time move faster than it actually did, and fighting to keep the ZPM from overloading left his dates all messed up. He still hadn't adjusted to the idea that it was December, not June! Back on Earth, it might have been easier to handle as the seasons would have changed. But Atlantis sat near the equator of this world. There were only two seasons: tropical and stormy.

Thankful Caldwell would be okay, and somewhat thankful the encounter was over, Sheppard went about his day. He had paperwork to get done, something he planned to remedy that today as he had a mission tomorrow. And he knew Elizabeth would want an update on new security protocols that would make something like this emergency less likely to happen. Sheppard's analytical mind went to work on the problem, and he didn't think about Caldwell's words until later that afternoon, when Lorne appeared in the gate room. Even then, it was only fleeting and didn't distract him from his work.

oOo

Carson stood outside some guest quarters on the Daedalus and raised his hand to knock. The door opened a moment later, and Laura stared up at him. "Carson!"

He smiled at her. "May I come in for a moment?"

She stepped back, letting him into the quarters that would likely be hers from now on. Rumor had it that she'd be assigned to the Daedalus, and Carson genuinely wished her well. Looking at her now, he still found her incredibly attractive, but whatever force had been behind their relationship was gone. She offered a rueful grin. "Carson, for what it's worth, I really did want us to work out."

"Aye, I know you did." He met her eyes. "I came to see you off an' let you know you can call me anytime. If you need anything."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." She looked down at her hands and then glanced up through her lashes. "I suppose taking over McKay's body to kiss you wasn't the best first move I could have made, was it?"

He actually chuckled at that. "No, I don't suppose so."

She stood there awkwardly, and he hated that he didn't know what to say to her. Finally, she shrugged. "Well, live and learn. Next time I get trapped in some guy's head, I'll know better than to do that."

"Next time?" He blinked. "I hope ye don't make it a habit!"

"Yeah, but I learned some valuable things this time." Laura's grin told him he didn't really want to hear more than that. Carson had no doubt that she'd learned about some of McKay's more charming qualities and wasn't certain he could handle knowing that much about his friend.

"Right." He motioned to the door. "I should let you get settled."

"Carson?" Her voice and hand on his arm stopped him. When she moved toward him, he was concerned that she would kiss him. It was a goodbye kiss that had convinced her to stay last time, and he did not want to go through that again. Not that Laura had been anything other than mature about the entire situation. But they had both agreed just the day before that they weren't suited for one another. Instead, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek and smiled at him. "I hope you find someone who can make you happy."

"Aye," he agreed. "An' you as well."

Nothing more was said as he left her quarters and headed for Atlantis's infirmary. He'd been on hand the previous evening when Hermiod removed the symbiote, but he knew that Daedalus's doctor was more than capable of seeing to Caldwell's health. Now he sought the quiet of his office and dropped behind his desk.

He would miss Laura Cadman as a friend. Having her around meant his life was never boring. But he was relieved the goodbyes were over and she was on her way. Yes, he had regrets about his life, but his desires for his future would never be a regret. That he and Laura had expected different things didn't bother him, either. It had been fun while it lasted, and he would miss that fun.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he stood to make coffee in the small coffee pot he'd brought from Earth on his last visit. As the rich aroma filled the room, he sorted the paperwork on his desk and started organizing his day. He had physicals to do and reports to fill out. He could work out his personal issues later.

oOo

Elizabeth's morning did not start out smoothly. First of all, she hit the snooze button on her alarm and slept through the next hour of alarms. She hadn't realize how exhausted she really was until she woke face down in bed, her hair in a mess around her face, and her alarm blaring at her that she was now late for work. Turning it off, she reached for her tablet and emailed all senior staff, canceling the morning briefing. Then, she dropped her face back into her pillow and simply closed her eyes.

Realizing she wouldn't go back to sleep, Elizabeth pushed out of bed a few moments later and prepared for the day. Combing her hair into a semblance of order didn't seem to be an option, so she was forced to stick it into a messy bun. It wasn't her best look, but she could handle it for a day.

Feeling incredibly out of place, Elizabeth strode through the control room as if she'd just come from a meeting and not her quarters. Her stop into the mess hall for breakfast hadn't been the most productive, and she came away with stale coffee and the last blueberry muffin. At least that had gone her way.

A package sat on her desk. Elizabeth frowned as she approached the office, the previous day's events too fresh for her to simply accept that someone had left her a gift. The red wrapping paper had little Santas all over it, their white beards bright against the background. Whoever had wrapped it was clearly not an expert as it had more tape than necessary and was buckled in places. A white bow had been attached to one end. Concerned that this might be the beginning of a nightmare, Elizabeth carefully picked it up and felt for wires or other hazards.

It felt like pottery.

Blinking at that, she cautiously undid each individual piece of tape. You're too paranoid, she told herself. But, after the previous day, she couldn't blame anyone for being paranoid.

The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a beautiful pitcher. The main body curved out elegantly, the sides completely smooth. A thin neck led to a pour spout, and the handle curled gracefully away from the sides. It was glazed in dark plum enamel, crackled so that the lighter lavender color of the clay could be seen in intricate lines that ran around the entire thing. It was coated with a shiny layer that sealed the entire thing up and made it safe for use. A smile touched Elizabeth's face as she turned the pitcher round and round to examine it closely. As far as she could find, the only imperfections were those intended by the artist. A quick glance at the bottom didn't reveal initials, leaving her guessing who the artist really was.

Setting the pitcher down, she moved to the door of her office. "Chuck?"

The gate tech looked up and stepped over to her. "Yes?"

"Did you see anyone come into my office this morning?"

He shook his head. "No. Is there a problem?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Uh. . .no. Thank you."

Leaving the confused tech to watch her head back into her office, Elizabeth cleared a spot on the shelf behind her desk to set the pitcher in a prominent position. A little rearranging, and it looked as if it belonged. Stepping back to admire it, she missed the footsteps approaching her door.

"Dr. Weir?" Major Lorne's voice startled her, and she whirled.

"I'm sorry, Major. I didn't hear you." Motioning him into the room, she began gathering the discarded wrapping paper. "What can I do for you?"

He eyed her. "Ah. . .I came to ask about Christmas, but it looks like you've already been given a gift."

"Yes." Elizabeth glanced at the pitcher. "What about Christmas?"

"Are we planning any sort of base-wide party?" Lorne shrugged. "I asked because it would be a good morale booster, and I'm willing to organize it."

Elizabeth smiled at him, thinking that a morale booster would be a good thing after recent events. "Major, I don't know how easy it'll be to have Christmas in Pegasus, but I think it's a great idea."

"Thank you, Ma'am." He glanced at the pitcher. "And it's beautiful."

"Yes, it is." Elizabeth grinned as the major went his way. Could he have had something to do with the gift? If not, then who? John had once given her a birthday gift, so it was conceivable he'd asked one of the Athosians to make her a Christmas present. Looking back at the pitcher, she decided it looked nothing like the small urn that had held the remains of her alternate self. It was a from a completely different world.

Her day suddenly looking a bit brighter, Elizabeth settled at her desk and began her report to the IOA and Stargate Command.

oOo

"Dr. Beckett?" Teyla's soft voice broke the stillness in his office and brought his head up. He blinked, having clearly been absorbed in his work, and she almost regretted interrupting. When she'd come to the infirmary, she'd expected to find him working at one of the stations there, not secluded and clearing his desk of paperwork.

Now, he met her eyes. "Come in, Teyla. What can I do for you?"

She hesitated at the door. "You said I could talk. . .if I needed to?"

"Yes, of course." He pushed away from his desk and motioned to the couch he'd added to the room. "What's on your mind?"

Teyla moved into the office and perched on the edge of the couch. "I am just. . . ." She took a deep breath. "After Charin's ceremony yesterday, I am not. . . ."

"Aye," Carson agreed. He smiled and held up the half-full pot of coffee, silently asking if she wanted a cup. When she shook her head, he filled his own mug and added just a touch of sugar. Joining her on the couch, he took a long sip. "When my father passed away, I remember feelin' lost for about a week."

"How did he. . .?" Teyla watched his face closely, not wanting to bring up a painful subject. Instead of seeing fresh grief, she saw something tinged with regret.

"He had cancer." Carson met her eyes. "It's a disease that basically causes the body's cells to mutate and grow tumors in various parts of the body. In my father's case, he had lung cancer. It wasnae an easy fight, an' he didn't give up easily. But, in the end. . . ."

"I am sorry." Teyla reached out to touch his arm. "I should not have asked."

"Och, no, love! I don't mind sharin' at all." His smile lit his eyes, and she wondered why she had never really paid attention to how they lit up his face. "My da's been gone for nearly twenty years. In fact, he's why I became a doctor in the first place."

"Because of his illness?"

"Because he was also a doctor."

"I see." Teyla understood that. Many of the people from Earth had spoken of their families, and she had struggled to understand how children could go into careers so different from those of their parents. Athosians tended to follow family traditions. If the father was a farmer, then the son became a farmer. "And he inspired you to continue even though he passed on?"

"Aye." Carson's smile turned nostalgic. "I had just started medical school when he died. 'Don't ever give up, Carsy,' he said." Carson chuckled, its sound lifting Teyla's spirits slightly. "I'll never forget him sayin' that."

Teyla smiled as she watched him get lost in thought. The smile that touched his lips lingered as he sipped his coffee again, and his eyes gazed into his memories. Seeing Carson so at ease with the loss in his past gave her hope that she would one day look back on Charin with such fondness. Right now, though, her loss was too fresh for her to do much more than cry at the thought. But she had tried to shed her tears in private save for those few that she'd cried at Charin's bedside.

Her attempt to dash the tears from her eyes pulled Carson from his thoughts, and he frowned. "Teyla, are you okay?"

"Yes." She smiled, but her lips trembled. He had been with her from the moment that Charin first mentioned the ring ceremony. It had been Carson's gentle presence behind her, turning off the heart monitor, that had helped her through that horrible moment when Charin's spirit departed her body. Now, he reached over and took her hand. She gripped his hand, the strength of her emotions causing her to hold tighter than she'd intended. Instead of complaining, he used his other hand to cover hers, his thumb rubbing along her knuckles and sending shards of warmth up her arm. Teyla understood that this awareness, this moment, was nothing more than her own emotions out of control, so she did not follow through with the first thought in her mind. Perhaps, once the strength of her grief had faded, she would talk with the kind doctor about them. For now, she simply kept her head bowed as two tears traced their way down her face.

Finally, she looked up and took a deep breath. He released her hand and rose to carry his coffee mug to the sideboard where he kept the coffee pot. His white lab coat was stark against the dark shirt he wore beneath it, and he kept his back turned, puttering around, as she regained her composure. Teyla was grateful for the gesture and pushed to her feet.

"Thank you, Dr. Beckett."

He turned and smiled at her. "Call me 'Carson.'" His blue eyes met hers, the understanding in them dampening the sparkle there. "And you are welcome anytime."

Teyla nodded and left the office, knowing he watched her go. She let out a deep breath and wiped the last vestiges of her grief from her face. She knew John would understand, that he would accept her need to grieve. But Carson had given her a safe place to show those emotions that weren't necessarily shown in the sparring room or on a mission. He was a healer, and she felt as if he'd just taken a slight bit of the pain from her. The rest would linger, she knew. But her friends—her familywould see her through it.

oOo

Rodney McKay stormed out of his lab, his anger so intense that he didn't see the apprehensive look on Radek's face. The Czech rarely looked apprehensive, which said a lot. Now, Rodney stomped through the Atlantis corridors with his empty coffee cup. Some imbecile on the night shift had helped themselves to the last bit of his coffee. He'd carefully rationed the ground beans, meaning he had at least another week's supply before he started going through caffeine withdrawals. It had happened before, but never like this. Never had anyone been so bold as to steal from him! When he found out who had done it, he would make certain they were on their way back to Earth with the next dial-out, never mind the power it drained from the ZedPM.

Teyla had just slipped out of the infirmary when Rodney stormed inside. He spared the Athosian a single glance, his anger lessening slightly as he watched her leave. While he and Sheppard had been dealing with the ZedPM's overload, Teyla had conducted the funeral for a very close family friend. Perhaps she'd come to see Carson about legalities, though Rodney couldn't figure out what legalities the Athosians might have that included the doctor.

Carson was in his office, just sitting back down, when Rodney stormed through the door. He jumped at the sudden intrusion and half-stood before he realized that the cranky Canadian physicist had ignored him and gone straight for the coffee pot. Carson liked a medium roast, something Rodney didn't tolerate on a normal day. But this wasn't a normal day. This was an emergency, and he'd take Carson's lukewarm leftovers before he went without!

Coffee cup filled and that first heavenly sip taken, Rodney let out a deep breath. The spicy afternotes of the coffee didn't even bother him today. "I am so going to see someone shipped back to the SGC."

Carson blinked at him, settling into his chair. "Why?"

"I don't know who it was, but someone stole the last of my coffee. Don't they know I need that to make the brilliant discoveries that I make?"

Carson gave him a glance somewhere between irritation and amusement. "I'm certain you'll survive."

Rodney took another sip. "Yes! Yes, I will because they will be gone as soon as I find out who."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Rodney."

Hearing the longsuffering tone, Rodney held up his mug. "Thanks for the coffee, Carson." He headed for the door before turning around. "I'm not leaving you short, am I? I mean, I know you don't do the kind of work I do, but I'd hate to leave you without your coffee that you need next time I have a medical emergency."

"I'll be fine, Rodney." Carson grinned at him. "Just limit it to one cup a day for a while."

Rodney agreed with a wave, not telling anyone that he'd been down to one cup a day—not counting regular meals—for some time. He'd been hoarding his precious supply, and now it was gone. As he left the infirmary, he vowed to figure out who the coffee thief was and send him—or her—packing just as soon as possible. No one messed with Rodney McKay's coffee and lived to tell the tale!

oOo

Ronon wandered into the sparring room later that afternoon to see Teyla idly twirling her Bantos rods. He watched her silently, surprised that she didn't notice him. The expression on her face was completely unguarded, and the ex-Runner frowned. He knew she'd lost a close friend a couple days ago, but she had not allowed her friends to support her in any way.

"Hey." Ronon headed for the spare Bantos rods, ignoring the way Teyla jumped as if startled. "Wanna spar?"

She studied him, a small grin turning the corners of her lips upward. "You do not need to. . . ."

"I know," he interrupted. Taking up a fighter's stance on the mat, he waited. Teyla nodded and, for the next few moments, only the sound of their Bantos rods broke the stillness. But something happened after that. Teyla's attack came harder, and she put more force behind her strikes. While she never caught Ronon off guard, he knew she needed this outlet for her grief. While Charin had died of natural causes, Teyla's world had shifted. She was struggling to find her footing in this new life without any blood kin, and she needed to work out the inevitable anger that her inability to help Charin had caused. Not to mention the unfounded—and totally natural—frustration of not having her family close when Charin's ceremony had been conducted. Ronon understood those emotions. He'd felt them before.

Her tears began to fall as she lost the ability to control them. Ronon didn't point them out, choosing instead to give her the chance to exhaust herself. If he wasn't mistaken—and he rarely was, though he didn't point it out like McKay—she had not slept much the previous night.

When Teyla's attack slowed, Ronon wound their sparring down as naturally as he could. He felt when the final blow struck and stepped off the mat, his manner indicating that he was done. Teyla stood in the middle, her chest heaving as she dragged in great breaths of air. Ronon reached for a water bottle and waited while she recovered her composure. He wanted to tell her that it would get easier, but he knew that she wouldn't hear him right now. Instead, he grinned. "Feel better?"

"Yes." She shrugged. "Thank you."

He shrugged and headed for the door. "You hungry?"

"Actually, I ate before I came here." She offered him a smile. "And I am quite tired. Perhaps another time?"

"Yeah." Ronon waved as she headed for her quarters. Beckett was coming from the opposite direction, and he stopped long enough to speak to Teyla. Ronon watched the two, seeing the concern on Beckett's face and the gentle smile on Teyla's. He waited until Teyla continued on her way before turning to the doctor. "Hungry?"

"Aye," Beckett said with a grin. "Care to join me?"

"Sounds good." Ronon fell into step with Beckett, the two men not needing words to fill the silence. This small doctor had freed Ronon from the life of a Runner, and Ronon quite enjoyed his company. They gained the mess hall and picked a table, Sheppard and McKay joining them a few moments later. The evening was spent in quiet conversation punctuated by masculine laughter as the four men told jokes and in general relaxed after a quiet day on base.

~TBC