TWO

After confirming the seemingly medieval castle had very modern plumbing, Jen washed her face and brushed her teeth, and changed into a tank top and pajama shorts. She then spent a good five minutes trying to figure out how to turn the lights off in the room. Finally she discovered the narrow, metallic looking stripe near the door was the control panel, and if she waved her hand over it, the lights dimmed and extinguished.

With the room bathed only in the glow from the fireplace, she crawled up onto the bed. Fighting through the layers of blankets she propped herself up onto several pillows and stared at the flames, the warmth and flickering light hypnotizing her.

As she snuggled further into the bedding she leaned back and watched the play of the firelight off the sheer curtains hanging down around the bed. Jen couldn't stop the childhood thoughts of princesses and knights from slipping into her conscious. Her eyes drooped and soon she was fast asleep.

She shuddered with the icy feel of the metal gurney she lay upon. Her limbs were dead. Unmoving. Bound at the ankles and wrists. The room was cold and damp, darkness oozing out of the corners with finger-like shadows. Smells of bitter decay reached her nostrils.

A skeleton hovered above her, hollowed out dead holes where the eyes should be. Teeth yellowed and bared while it whispered something cold against her cheek. She struggled and tried to scream but nothing worked. Nothing moved. Only her eyes. Her mind and her eyes. She tried to move – scream – wake up. Nothing. The skeleton moved closer until the hollow eye sockets were all she could see. A sharp sting in her arm and the blackness took her.

Jen awoke with a start, her breathing fast and labored. She kicked away at the covers until she was completely free of their binding twists. Scrambling up the bed she stood on the mattress and jammed herself up against the headboard frantically searching the room for the skeleton man. The unfamiliar surroundings caused her heart to beat even faster as the remnants of the dream tugged through her mind. Her left hand reached for her throat and the right went for the com in her ear… which… wasn't there. She eyed the radio she'd set on the table next to the bed as her mind slowly connected with the location and remembered exactly where she was. Castle. Princess bed. Strange planet.

Right.

Her heart slowed and steadied with each deep breath she forced through her lungs. Each cold breath.

"Okay…" She drew the word out, finding the sound of her own voice more soothing than it should have. She stared around the dark room, trying to distinguish furniture and features through the gloom. She noted at the black opening of the fireplace. Not a single glowing coal left to indicate there even was a fire there in the first place.

The fire went out. The room got cold. She had another bad dream.

That was all.

She exhaled slowly.

Okay, that scenario was easy enough to handle. The skeleton and the rest… she was going to leave to the dream.

She checked her watch and was shocked to discover she'd been asleep for less than an hour.

"That can't be right," she muttered.

Climbing off the bed she shivered and quickly moved towards the door, a crack of light seeping in around it's edges leading her in the right direction. Raising the lights she caught herself looking for intruders, then after verbally chastising herself, she checked the bathroom, the wardrobe, and under the massive bed. Anytime she left the rug the freezing temperature of the floor shocked her feet and she lifted herself up onto the tips of her toes.

Wow this place gets cold at night.

She moved to the fireplace for a closer look. The fire was definitely dead. Jen eyed the stack of logs in the ornate box next to the mantle but had absolutely no idea how to get it going again without a blowtorch. Tentatively touching he stone along the side of the mantle she was surprised to feel it was cold. No trace of any residual heat from the previously occupying fire.

Then Jen realized she could actually see her breath.

"Uh, okay." She said softly, not sure why she was whispering to herself, but not questioning it either.

Shivering, she lowered the lights until they were barely outlining the shapes in the room, scrambled back up onto the bed, and burrowed herself under the blankets. She closed her eyes but they immediately snapped open again. The dream felt way to close to the surface for her to even consider going back to sleep. And just how had that fire gone out in less than an hour?

She sat up again, peering through the faint light at her oversized room, and suddenly felt very… small.

"Oh, get a grip." She chastised herself. "You always wanted to stay in a castle. Well, here you are!"

Flopping back down against the pillows she yanked the blankets up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut.

They popped open almost immediately.

She climbed out of bed and turned the lights up, then rushed back to her cocoon of covers and squeezed her eyes shut, but the burned in image of the eyeless skeleton returned and she opened them again.

There was no way she was going to get any sleep in this room tonight.


Thanks to Rodney McKay, Ronon had become very skilled at tuning out babble and picking up only the elements he needed to know. Like the fact that their tour was a complete waste of time. The weapons hadn't been fired in years, they had nothing but single shot rifles, and their battlements and defenses were so poorly manned that if they actually did have enemies – which apparently they didn't – they wouldn't know what to do with a siege if they were given the manual.

Sheppard had finally given in and called it a night, for which Ronon might have hugged him if he'd been disposed with that kind of personality.

He'd settled for a fast "okay" instead.

With a quick glance at Jennifer's still closed door, Ronon watched Sheppard's retreat to his room before he stepped into the quarters he'd been assigned. The minute he crossed the threshold he sensed he wasn't alone and had his weapon raised as he stepped out of the framing light of the doorway. The fire provided the only light, but it was enough for his eyes to cover the entire room at a glance, then lock on the bare ankle hanging over the edge of one of the oversized chairs near his fireplace. A very delicate looking ankle. Her scent filled his nostrils. He dropped his gun back into the holster and closed the door.

Stepping around the edge of the chair he stared down at Jennifer's sleeping form. Curled sideways in the large chair, she was balled up under the blanket, only the top of her head and one foot visible.

Had something happened?

If it had, why hadn't she used her radio?

He leaned forward, his hand lightly touching her shoulder. "Doc?"

She jumped and scrambled backwards, her limbs tangled in the blanket. She tumbled sideways over the arm of the chair and would have hit the floor… if he hadn't caught her.

"Ronon?" She stammered as he set her back into the chair. "Jeeze, you startled me. I must have fallen asleep."

He retrieved her radio, which had fallen onto the floor. She reached for it and he felt the cool skin of her fingers brush against his as she accepted it.

"You okay?" He asked, standing to the side to stare down at her.

Jen looked up, his profile hidden in the backlight from the fire. I had a dream where a skeleton-man was after me and I can't stop seeing strange things and my fire went out turning the room horribly cold in less than an hour and I'm a little freaked out and didn't want to be alone and I was really hoping I could just stay here tonight… she thought, and managed to squeak out an "I'm fine."

He didn't answer.

"I wasn't sure if this was your room or John's." Jen groaned inwardly, her random statement not exactly coming out the way she'd intended.

"He's next door…" he angled his head to the left and stepped away. "If you're looking for his room…"

"No!" Jen said, a little too forcefully. "I'm not. I wanted you. Yours. I don't. Wait." She dropped the radio, kicked off the blanket and stood up, reaching for his arm. "Are you mad at me?" She blurted out.

Are you mad at me? Oh God, Jen. How old are you again?

He stopped and turned around, the light from the fire revealing his features. He looked, well, like Ronon. She tried to find a trace of emotion on his face but couldn't determine anything other than the fact that this man would be amazing at poker.

When he glanced down to where her fingers were still clutching his forearm she snatched her hand back.

Ronon felt her fingers leave and wanted to tell her it was okay to leave them there. He didn't want her to be afraid to reach out to him. To touch him. But he was too distracted by what she'd just asked him to think clearly.

"Should I be?" He finally asked.

"Should you be, what?" Her brow furrowed.

"Angry."

"What?" She ran her hands through her hair and shrugged. "Oh. No. I mean, I-I don't think so. I don't know. I don't remember doing anything to make you mad. I've barely seen you all week, and if I did something to upset you I'd hope you'd tell me because I didn't mean to do anything wrong. If I did. So… I'm sorry?"

He continued to stare down at her, and it was starting to make her feel even more confused.

"Why are you sorry?"

She blinked. "For whatever I did that made you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, turning her head towards the fire. "Oh. I just thought. You wouldn't talk to me, so, I guess I figured… I mean I know you don't talk much. To me. To anyone really. Well you talk, but not talk-talk. And I thought maybe there was something, but you're kind of hard to read. And you haven't said anything so I just figured I might have done something…"

She trailed off and shrugged, staring into the fire.

While she spoke, Ronon's eyes couldn't stop assessing. The fire light bathed her in its gentle aura, making her look even more beautiful. When she tucked her hair behind her ears she exposed the side of her neck and from there his eyes kept moving. Over bare shoulders and arms, a glimpse of skin around her waist, down over the shimmering pink –shorts?- and lower, following the gentle curve of her bare legs right to the tips of her toes. He swallowed quickly and tried to keep his thoughts controlled.

"You're here because you thought I was angry with you." He said it as more of a statement, part of him wishing she'd come for another reason. For him. Not because she thought he was angry.

"No." She shook her head quickly and dropped her chin, hiding her face behind her hair. "No. That was just a question."

"Doc?" He asked, his mind starting to wonder if his original assessment had been correct. Something had happened to drive her out of her room?

She sighed. "It's stupid."

He reached out and turned her towards him, angling his head lower so he could get a better look at her face. "What's stupid."

"My room." She absently rubbed her throat. "The fire's out and it's cold and well, it's a little creepy. I wanted to ask if you'd… would you… (let me stay here tonight?) check it out for me?"

Ronon almost smiled. Good. She had come for him. He liked knowing she'd asked him for help… and not Sheppard. "Come on."

The hallway was empty when they stepped across. She reached for the door handle but he put his hand on top of hers. She looked up, eyes questioning.

"Me first."

"Oh. Right." She nodded and let go of the handle.

He pushed the door open and stepped forward, intending to reach for the lighting control when he crossed an invisible threshold of freezing cold temperatures. With a curse he withdrew his gun and stepped quickly back, knocking into Jennifer who was right behind him.

"Out." He ordered.

"What?" Jen whispered, her eyes moving to his gun, then back into the darkness. "Is there someone there? Hey, I thought I left the light on…"

From the hallway Ronon stared into the darkness. He reached forward, his fingers feeling the edge of the temperature shift. Damn, that air was cold.

"Sheppard!" He called out.

A few seconds later a door across the hall opened and John stuck his head out. Wearing only his boxers and a navy t-shirt, he looked like he was just about to get into bed – except for the P90 he was holding tightly across his chest.

Jen blinked. Geeze, that was fast. Did he sleep with it?

John took one look at Jennifer (in her pajamas) then Ronon (still aiming his gun into her room) and cursed. "You know, just once I'd like to have an uneventful gate experience."