Atlantis Café

by Soledad

Disclaimer: the usual: don't own, don't sue! Everything belongs to RTD and BBC and whoever owns the rights for Stargate right now.

Author's note: Yes, evil time shift again. I suppose you've got used to them by now. ;)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Part 06 – Atlantis, Day One

Ianto Jones' first impression of Atlantis is that of a Gothic cathedral, with her ethereal spires, elongated stained glass windows, spidery, crystalline structures spreading out all over a layout that vaguely resembles of a five-pointed star. While he can see – and admire – her as a floating city, it's hard to imagine that she's also a starship of immense dimensions; one that can cross the enormous distance between two galaxies in mere days.

Nonetheless, those are the facts, and Ianto is trained to accept the facts, even if they're beyond his imagination. Having worked for Torchwood can do that to a person.

They reach Atlantis at the local equivalent of dawn, and it's a breath-taking sight. The sun of the planet has just begun to rise above the horizon, thus the twin crescent moons, both in the waning phase, are still clearly visible at the other end of the sky-sphere, which is a pale purple in that area, while turning ruddy where the sun is about to rise. In front of that incredible canvas, Atlantis is floating on the deep blue-grey ocean, glittering like a jewel created of pure silver and crystal in the reddish light of dawn.

The sight is so beautiful that it almost physically hurts. There's nothing Ianto has ever seen before that could be compared with it – not even the gleaming tunnel of hyperspace that has brought him here. He stares at it in stunned awe, unaware of the tears rolling down his face.

He's spared the disorientation of the Asgard transporter beam, as the Daedalus is actually landing on the East Pier. Which, as Major Kevin Marks, the senior bridge officer of the ship and a veteran of several space battles explains him, is one of the long extensions of Atlantis, regularly used as a landing zone.

"After three weeks in hyperspace, Colonel Caldwell prefers to give her a thorough check-out, and it's better done in the drydock… or the local equivalent of it," Marks explains. "You should go with Agent Bates directly to the Gate Room now, Mr. Jones. He'll introduce you to the key personnel of Atlantis, until Mr. Woolsey decides to make his appearance."

Mr. Woolsey has apparently chosen to use the transporter, which everyone (including Ianto and, if the sharp irony in his voice is any indication, Major Marks) finds unnecessary and pretentious. But it is his choice, and he's entitled to be a goit, as Martha comments, revealing her secret love for Red Dwarf. Ianto wonders how long it will take for her to start call Mr. Woolsey a smeghead but knows better than to ask.

Besides, it's such a British thing, not many would probably understand.

Ianto and Martha go with Bates; the others will follow eventually, but the two of them are command staff, so they need to get to the Gate Room immediately, to be present when Mr. Woolsey 'makes his appearance', as Major Marks has put it.

Bates suggests they take the transporters and leads them to a small room, the slide doors of which open automatically. As they step in, part of the back wall opens, just at the right height for them to see it comfortably, and the map of the city appears. Bates touches the centre of the map as soon as the panel begins to glow; the doors slide closed, then open again, almost immediately.

"We're there," Bates announces. "The Gate Room is right on the left."

"Well, this is… practical," Ianto comments, as they step out of the little chamber to a corridor that doesn't look very different from the one they've started from. "The transfer only took a few seconds. Are there such chambers all over the city? I mean, the ship?"

Bates nods. "You'd best download the map of the transporter network to your PDA," he says. "There's one in every transport chamber, of course – that's how you navigate – but having one handy all the time can help you find your way nonetheless. It's a very big city, and only parts of it have been thoroughly mapped."

He leads them to what seems just another section of the corridor. But as they approach, tall, stained glass door panels rotate into a vertical position, allowing them entrance into the command and control centre of Atlantis – and it's amazing.

There's none of the Spartan practicality of the SGC control room under the Cheyenne Mountain. The sheer size of the place is astonishing, especially if one keeps in mind that it's actually the bridge of a starship. The design is curved, elegant, ethereal – once again, Ianto has to think of Gothic cathedrals, and the stained glass windows only strengthen the likeness. A wide staircase rises in front of them, leading to other levels and balconies, all designed the same way.

The Stargate, too, is different from the one he was allowed a glimpse at back on Earth. It seems more… modern, somehow, which is weird, considering that it's ten thousand years old, give or take a century. The symbols on the great ring are glittering blue, and the rim of it disappears beneath the floor of the room.

The control room is a level higher, and the technicians working on various consoles, all of them facing the Gate Room, rise as the newcomers enter – with the exception of a man in science uniform, whom Ianto identifies as Dr. Rodney McKay. He looks older than on his file photo, but the face is unmistakable. Plus, he's wearing the Canadian flag patch.

Bates escorts Ianto and Martha up a fling of steps that leads to the office overlooking the Gate Room. At the same moment, an officer with the rank insignia of an Air Force lieutenant colonel and the name tag Sheppard on his breast pocket walks in.

"Bates!" he says in honest delight, shaking the I.O.A. agent's hand. "I heard they'd send you back to us, as head of civilian security. As stupid as I find the idea of civilian security to begin with, I'm glad I.O.A. at least had the common sense to choose you for the position."

"Thank you, sir, I'm glad to be back," Bates replies in crisp military manner. Once a Marine, always a Marine. Then he gestures at the newcomers. "If I may… Colonel Sheppard, the new chief medical officer of Atlantis, Dr. Martha Jones. And Mr. Ianto Jones, Mr. Woolsey's personal assistant and aide."

"Jones and Jones, eh?" Colonel Sheppard says, giving them a somewhat queer look. "Brother and sister, by any chance?"

The scientist Ianto assumes would be Dr. McKay rolls his eyes in exasperation.

"Yeah, Colonel, because Jones is such a rare and exotic surname!" He clearly doesn't find it funny – or is simply too exhausted.

"Twins, actually," Ianto says with a bland smile. "Identical ones, as I'm sure you can tell by the sight of us, Colonel."

McKay snorts, now in honest amusement, and Colonel Sheppard raises two fingers to his forehead in a half-salute, acknowledging the hit graciously enough. Then he shakes hands with them, too. "John Sheppard. The charming guy over there, the one with the acute lack of any sense of humour, is Rodney McKay. You'll get used to him, eventually."

"Not finding your infantile sense of humour the least bit funny doesn't mean I don't have any," McKay counters, without stopping his work to great the newcomers – although he does wave in their vague direction.

"His people skills are somewhat lacking, too," Sheppard tells them in a conspiratory manner. McKay looks up at that and gives him a patented death glare.

"Excuse me if I'm not jumping at the chance to give welcome hugs to people I'm gonna see every single day fort he next year anyway," he says snidely. "Never mind that I'm in the middle of recalibrating our long-range sensors, which, by the way, might save us from being taken unaware by, oh, half a dozen hive ships or so! I'll make sure to set my priorities more properly next time," and with that, he turns back to his console, ignoring everything else again.

Including the snickering technicians all around him.

One of said technicians – a sandy-haired young sergeant, wearing a Canadian flag patch like McKay himself – looks up at Sheppard.

"Sir, the Daedalus has finished docking procedures. Mr. Woolsey's beaming over now," he reports.

Sheppard rolls his eyes, his lack of enthusiasm apparent, and with a weary sigh, even McKay drags himself to his feat, just as the Asgard transporter beam deposits Richard Woolsey onto the balcony of the office. Woolsey has found time to change and is now wearing an Atlantis command uniform in which he looks every bit out of place as Ianto feels. They're just not made to wear a uniform, neither of them.

In the meantime Sheppard's managed to overcome his displeasure (or, at least, to hide the more obvious part of it). He walks forward to shake hands with their new leader.

"Mr Woolsey," he says with a somewhat forced joviality. "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Colonel," Woolsey looks at the crew in the control room and clears his throat nervously… then he attempts what he presumes is an authoritative stance. "Well, then..." he tries again, then hesitates for several seconds, clearly unable to think of anything more to say. Finally, he looks at Sheppard. "I think I'll start by going over copies of all your latest reports," then turning to Rodney, he adds. "Yours as well, Doctor."

McKay stares at him as if wondering whether their new boss has suffered a head injury or something similar. "What, right now?"

Woolsey shrugs. "I've been out of touch on the Daedalus for three weeks," he says. "I'd like to be brought up to speed as quickly as possible. We can have a full briefing tomorrow morning."

He moves to leave, addressing Ianto as he goes. "Please have the rest of my things sent directly to my quarters."

"Yes, sir," Ianto replies dutifully, looking after him as he leaves.

So does Colonel Sheppard, in fact. Only that his eyes are somewhat less friendly. "It's a nice speech," he comments. "Very inspiring."

Ianto sighs, "Trust me, this is the lesser evil. Full briefing will be a bitch in the morning."

"I know," Sheppard replies sourly. "We've dealt with Mr. Woolsey before. It was always pure joy. You better get his stuff delivered, though. He can be… cranky if he doesn't get his wish right away."

"I'll do my best, Colonel," Ianto replies. "If you could direct me to the person who's responsible for such things here, that is."

Sheppard gives him another one of those queer looks. Then he touches his headset and asks someone called Major Lorne to the control room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ianto's first official task on Atlantis – well, after having gotten Mr. Woolsey's things delivered to the man's quarters – is to hand out all the stuff the expedition members have ordered from Earth. So, as soon as the Daedalus has beamed down all the various packages, he's standing at the entrance of the largest storage room he's seen in his entire life (and he has seen his fair share of those), makings calls on his headset and ticking out the names of the people who've already fetched their ordered goods on his clipboard. It's a fairly menial task, but he doesn't mind it, as it gives him a chance to meet a lot of people. With his eidetic memory it means that he'll be able to recognize them afterwards.

He finds it eerie how easy it is to recognize the original expedition members; easy for him, that is. There are shockingly few of them left, but they all bear that special look that Jack calls "the thousand year stare". The look that says they've seen too much, too unprepared-for. That they've survived somehow, but even after four years, that first shock still sits too deeply in their bones to get rid of it completely.

It's a look he is achingly familiar with. A look he sees in the mirror every morning. But it's still not easy to see it on other faces.

There is Staff Sergeant Adam Stackhouse, in his early thirties, married to an Athosian woman – one of the very few not taken by Michael, the malevolent human/Wraith hybrid. Still mourning his best friend, the third member of their Athosian-style clan marriage, who's been dead for over three years, but whose absence still hasn't stopped hurting him. Ianto doesn't ask what else the late Sergeant Markham used to be for Stackhouse – he's dealing with the US military and their antiquated rules here – but he can make an educated guess. It isn't exactly rocket science; Stackhouse's obvious pain as he looks at their firstborn – Markham's son, born after the father's death – speaks volumes.

And after all those years, Stackhouse still have to conceal his true feelings. Somehow it doesn't seem right.

There is Dr. Julia Simpson, a seemingly plain woman with a freckled face and shoulder-length, sand-coloured hair, who's a brilliant engineer and tough as nails. Her personal file says she's only been at home for two short visits in the last four years; one of those occasions being her father's funeral. She's ordered cigarettes and a specific brand of cosmetic articles, and unexpectedly breaks down crying when she's handed a large box of Belgian chocolate and a hand-written letter from someone named Dr. Kavanagh.

Ianto offers her a cup of his best espresso from his own thermos (he's tested the new coffee machine aboard the Daedalus – someone had to). She accepts it gratefully and explains, while her tears are falling into the cup, that Dr. Kavanagh was a colleague of hers – a jerk in many areas, but great to work with, and that she's had no-one to fight and argue with since he left. Again, Ianto wonders if that was truly all that has been there between the two of them, but again, he doesn't ask. It isn't his business how a handful of people used to try making a life for themselves during what at that time seemed a mission of no return. He knows all too well what it means to be desperately alone.

And then there's Dr. Miko Kusanagi, their resident computer genius, who's taken over a great deal of the late Dr. Grodin's research aside from her own, and who hasn't been back to Earth since day one. Ianto has wondered about the reason and looked up her file, hoping to find answers. He found out that she's the third daughter of a very traditional, old-fashioned Japanese family and has been cast out by her father when she refused to marry someone her parents have selected for her and chose to study instead.

Her parents never spoke to her again, although her siblings sometimes do send her messages and small gifts. She's brilliant, with two doctorates and a scientific mind as bright as a thousand burning suns, but her family is unable to appreciate that. All they can see is the fact that she's turned her back on tradition, and that's something they can never forgive.

Ianto is very curious about her and is a little shocked when she finally arrives to pick up the various tea tins and other small items she's ordered. He expected someone like Tosh; someone who, while carrying a great burden, would be strong and confident nonetheless. The fragile, round-faced woman with the large glasses who enters the storage room is anything but. She's like a wounded bird that somehow still manages to fly on broken wings; her thin shoulders hunched and her smile polite but tremulous, as if she'd expect to be hurt any moment, with or without reason. It's a heartbreaking sight.

Ianto bows and greets her in carefully-phrased Japanese, using the expressions of greatest respect. He isn't very good at the formal speech, what little he's learned from Tosh, and after her death in online courses as a homage to her, is more everyday stuff, but he tries his best. This little woman has spent four years here without a break and survived. What's more, she's helped to keep this flying city together, against impossible odds. She deserves respect.

Her reaction certainly isn't what he'd have expected. It seems he'll have to count on female members of the original expedition breaking down sobbing in his presence, for some unknown reason.

He knows it isn't exactly Japanese custom, but he can't watch her breakdown without trying to offer some support; she seems so much more vulnerable than Dr. Simpson… or Tosh. So he takes her in his arms, letting her cry on his shoulder – well, on his chest anyway, as she's too small to actually reach his shoulder to cry on. He's absurdly grateful for the Atlantis uniform he's so disliked at first. None of his suits would survive such treatment on a regular basis, and as he heard the Pegasus galaxy ain't that big on dry cleaner service.

Finally, her quiet sobs die down entirely, and now she's mortally embarrassed.

"I'm… I'm so sorry," she whispers. "It's just… I haven't heard my mother tongue for so long. Even those who understand it have taken to speak English all the time."

"Do they?" Ianto is surprised first, then he thinks about it for a moment and understands. "Well, I reckon it makes things easier with so many people of different origins if everyone speaks the same language."

She smiles at him shyly. "I never thought to find someone who'd care to learn Japanese if they don't have to. People just expect us to learn English."

"I'm afraid my Japanese isn't much, "Ianto admits ruefully. "I've begun to learn a little for the sake of a good friend, but she's dead now, and without proper practice…" he shrugs and trails off.

Dr. Kusanagi seems to hesitate, like someone who's afraid to be rejected, having had her fair share of rejections already. Then she brings up some courage and smiles at him nervously.

"If we can find time… I mean, if you want to… we can practice from time to time… and share tea, perhaps? I was taught to perform the proper tea ceremony when I was young…"

Ianto isn't a passionate tea drinker – because really, who in their right mind would drink tea when there's coffee available? But he's drunk the one or other cup with Tosh and recognizes the honour he's been offered. Not many young people can perform the traditional tea ceremony in these days, and for a complete stranger to be invited to it is a rare thing indeed.

"It would be my pleasure, Kusanagi-san," he replies with a formal bow. She gives a small, genuine smile, and in that fleeting moment she reminds him so much of Tosh it almost breaks his heart.

"I'll contact you when you've settled down," she murmurs demurely and leaves.

Ianto looks after her for a moment, Atlantis just having become a little more like home for him. Then he ticks her name off his list and calls in Dr. Bryce, who's waiting on the corridor already. Despite her English-sounding name, the oceanologist turns out to be an exotic-looking Indian woman, with an eerie resemblance to Suzie. It's not a likeness of features – Dr. Bryce is older, more mature and definitely more beautiful – rather one of colouring and carriage. Still, it gives Ianto a really weird sense of déja vu.

He shakes his head, pulls himself together and goes on with the task at his hands. The sooner the storage room has emptied, the earlier can he leave to seek out his own quarters, which, according to Major Lorne, are situated next to Mr. Woolsey's. Joy, joy, joy, Ianto thinks, while handing Dr. Bryce her Indian spices, tea tins and bags of special rice she's requested, so that she can cook something that tastes like home.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ianto's departure leaves Martha alone with the core of the old Atlantis crew. They're all eyeing her in suspicion, perhaps even with a little ill-veiled hostility, and it makes her bristle a bit. It's not her fault, after all, that UNIT has pressed for more British presence on Atlantis; and while she's excited to be here, she really is, she isn't willing to take the blame for the loss of a valued colleague.

"Look, guys," she says calmly, "I know you aren't exactly happy to have me here, but let me set something straight: this wasn't my idea. Yes, I jumped at the opportunity when it was offered to me – who wouldn't? But I didn't do any lobbying or whatever you apparently suspect I've done. It was a political deal, from which I admittedly benefit, but it wasn't my doing. So, do you think we can ignore the fact that you don't want me here and behave as professionals?"

"To be perfectly honest, doc, it's the professional part that makes me slightly concerned," Sheppard drawls. "At least Dr. Keller has served here for a few months before taking over for Beckett. You, on the other hand… they've just dropped you onto our laps, out of the blue; no explanations, no personal file, no nothing. You ought to admit that's a bit… unsettling."

"My personal file's classified, even for regular UNIT personnel," Martha says with a hint of apology in her voice. "Only the Brigadier and his aides are privy to it. But let me assure you that I've faced – and treated and fought – aliens before, and have worked with alien technology."

Her confidence doesn't seem to reassure the Atlantis staff, though.

"Have you ever been off-world before?" McKay demands.

"Yes," she answers matter-of-factly. "Although my journeys were more… specific than Stargate missions. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you more about it."

"What about weapons training?" Sheppard asks. "Are you qualified to use a gun? Because you might need it here, in order to survive. The Marines can't be everywhere at the same time, and it's dangerous out here."

Martha grins. "Last year I helped to avert an alien invasion. Does that qualify me? But yeah, I can fire a gun if I have to, and I can even hit my target. So does Ianto, as a matter of fact. We Brits have got our own secret projects, Colonel, and we've been both knee-deep in those for the last couple of years. You don't need to worry about us."

"I prefer to be the judge of that myself," Sheppard returns in a deceivingly mild voice. Martha shrugs.

"Fine with me. Well, since my predecessor doesn't seem to be here, can someone show me the way to the infirmary? I'd like to introduce myself."

The locals still aren't very forthcoming, and in the end, it's Bates who makes a move again. "I'll show you there, Dr. Jones."

As they leave, Martha can hear McKay's acerbic comment, apparently directed at Sheppard.

"I know you haven't run into any space babes lately, Colonel, but could you, you know, not salivate quite so much when a pretty girl gets near you?"

And Sheppard's flippant reply. "No need to get envious, Rodney. I'm sure she'll learn to admire your genius in open-mouthed awe… just like we all do."

"Ha, ha, very funny," McKay returns. "Well, if you're done playing the dashing leader of Atlantis' military, could you perhaps get out of my hair? Some of us have a lot of work to do here."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bates and Martha find Dr. Jennifer Keller in the Infirmary, working at a computer. There's another woman with her – older, bronze-skinned, with shoulder-length hair of a strangely orange hue – who's carrying a baby on her arm. At the sight of Bates, her jewelled dark eyes grow cold. There's obviously no love lost between these two, Martha realizes, and wonders what the reason might be.

"Sergeant Bates," the woman says coldly. "I was surprised to hear that you'd return to us, after all those years."

"Not the most pleasant of surprises, I suppose," Bates replies wryly, "but yeah, I'm here again… and back to my old job. Only as a civilian, this time."

"I doubt that it has changed your attitude much," the woman says icily.

Bates inclines his head in agreement. The gesture is a bit mocking but not entirely without respect. These two must have had quite the story between them.

"You're right, Miss Emmagan," he says. "It hasn't."

There's a short, unpleasant silence, and Martha makes a mental note to have Ianto figure out what's happened between them. Right now, though, she just wants to be introduced and made familiar with her future workplace.

"If you could stop your glaring contest for a moment, interesting though it is, we might be able to get done with the formalities first," she says; then she turns to the woman sitting at the computer. "Dr. Keller, I presume? I'm Martha Jones. Doctor Martha Jones, UNIT's head exobiologist."

To her credit, Jennifer Keller manages a brave, almost-friendly smile and shakes her hand. "Dr. Jennifer Keller. And this is Teyla Emmagan, representing the Athosian people on Atlantis. And, of course, her son Torren – currently our youngest patient."

That surprises Martha a little. "I didn't know there were children on Atlantis… aside from the son of the late Sergeant Markham, that is."

"Even after four years, there aren't many," Keller admits. "Now that we have the chance to return to Earth, eventually, people don't want to set children into a potential war zone. The Athosians used to have quite a few, but…" she trails off, with a guilty glance in Teyla's direction.

Martha nods. "I've read the reports. My sincerest condolences, Miss Emmagan."

"Thank you," the Athosian woman replies, "although I was luckier than most, myself. My child was unharmed, and even his father is himself once again, in every way."

"Was he one of those turned into hybrids?" Martha asks with a barely suppressed shiver.

Teyla nods serenely. "He was. But the process has been reverted, thanks to Dr. Keller, and we hope to reunite the remaining families, soon."

Keller shakes her head. "It wasn't me that cured Kanaan and the other hybrids; it was Doctor Beckett's retrovirus. And you could thank him in person if I could just get my head around all this Wraith medical data."

Martha walks around to stand beside her as she looks at the intricate alien text on her screen.

"Do you believe the answer's in there somewhere?" she asks. She's studied the data – in English translation, as far as they could be translated – and found the problem incredibly complex… albeit not entirely unsolvable.

Keller shrugs, a little uncertainly. "Well, we know he was giving Carson a serum to keep his internal organs from deteriorating and I think I might have found the formula. I just need to be sure."

"At least we know he's safe for the moment," Teyla says encouragingly. Then she looks down at the baby as he begins to fret quietly and frowns.

"Technically, yeah," Keller agrees. "I just hate the thought of him being stuck in that box."

"Why?" Martha asks. "As far as I'm informed, it's completely safe. It has preserved General O'Neill for quite some time, and he left it unharmed, as soon as a cure for his… condition was found."

"Mmm," Teyla agrees, rocking the baby to calm him down again.

Keller smiles. "You know, Rodney – that is, Dr. McKay," she adds for Martha's sake, "– goes to visit him. Stands in front of the stasis pod and tells him all the latest news."

"Really?!" Martha has only known the irritating scientist for half an hour, but has a hard time to believe it.

"Mmm-hmm," Keller grins. "I walked in on him once by accident and he pretended like he was checking the system or something."

"Men and their inability to express their feelings," Martha says, while the other two are laughing. But she isn't thinking of Dr. McKay. She's thinking of a time-travelling alien whose name she's never learned… and of Jack and Ianto and their strange non-relationship, or whatever it might be, and wonders whether they are going to find a way back together.

"He surprises me sometimes," Keller smiles at her screen with a fond expression on her face, meaning Dr. McKay, of course. Martha gets the suspicion that there might be something else than mere surprise on the young doctor's side; she only hopes that it isn't entirely one-sided. She's already seen enough heartbreak around her for a lifetime.

In this very moment, Teyla's baby begins to cry, and she sighs. "Well, this is me, once again being recalled to duty."

"Have a nice walk!" Keller replies, then she explains to Martha. "Apparently, the baby is only willing to stay quiet when she moves around with him."

Martha smiles. "My little sister used to be like that. Mum always says she'd have been able to run a marathon after Tish finally dropped the habit."

Teyla is at the door already when she turns back and smiles at Keller.

"Don't worry, Jennifer," she says encouragingly. "I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for."

She leaves the infirmary, the baby placed on her hip. Keller wipes her eye tiredly and gets back to work. Following an impulse, Martha lays a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, doctor," she says quietly, "I know it's hard for you to be replaced, especially right now, given the circumstances. Believe me, I haven't asked for this job. I was perfectly happy with my old one. But since I'm already here, I think you should explain me what exactly you're looking for. My Wraith still sucks, but I'd really like to help… if I can."

Keller looks up into her face with just a touch of doubt. "You said you're an exobiologist?" she asks. Martha nods. "A good one?"

Martha grins and shrugs. "Well, I'm said to be the authority in the UK when it comes to extraterrestrial life, but if that's enough…?"

"We'll see," Dr. Keller says. "Fetch yourself a chair, I'll explain you what the whole issue is about. Two sets of eyes see more than just one."

Martha pulls up a chair, and the two of them concentrate on the problem of being back a valued colleague to life. For the first time since boarding the Daedalus, Martha has the feeling that her new assignment might actually work out.

~TBC~