A/N: Yay, new chapter! We are, as it seems, nearing the end with this one (I'm figuring just one or two more)! It's kinda exciting writing a multi-chapter story again and actually getting something done instead of dragging each chapter out for months and months on end. This is actually fun, you people!

I hope it's fun for you, too ;)

And yes, lalez, we will get to see how Morsberg ends up on Team Moore, soon. I'll finish this up, and I promise that I'll get to that in the usual aftermath four-parter. Just a little more patience? ;)


Eight

Reece

So that wasn't exactly smart. And I don't even mean the "almost assaulted a fellow officer in a career ending move from hell" part. I mean, yes, that was ridiculously stupid, and I would have deserved if no one had intervened and just let me go through with it. But no, that's not what I'm referring to.

What I mean is what happened to stop me from going through with it. The fact that it had been Thomas Moore of all people being the adult in the room. His ability to spot what I was about to do before I even really knew what I was doing. Being physically held back by him holy fucking shit. That talk that finally got me off the ledge. Just… all of it.

I know that sounds weird. But here's the thing: you know when the last time was when I was as close to him as that? The last time I touched him? Exactly. It was when I kissed his doppelganger on that final SGC mission a little over a year ago. Now add to this a seething kind of fury I have felt maybe a handful of times in my entire life, a brain completely messed up by everything and a goddamn year of not really successfully trying to get over a guy I had a major – no pun intended, okay – crush on. The result? Me sitting next to the sergeant who's been the best mentor I ever had, trying to sell everyone including myself the fiction that this entire thing didn't leave me hot, bothered and very, very confused.

"Maureen? Just for the record?" I blink, for a moment, just one moment, fully convinced that he just read my thoughts and now basically knows everything about the probably most embarrassing crush I ever had the misfortune to have. I honestly wouldn't put it past him to be capable of something like that. "He would have deserved it. It would have been really, really stupid but he'd very much have deserved it."

Okay, maybe not a mind-reader after all. Or maybe a very polite mind-reader who just chose not to embarrass a friend with revealing how much he knows about her unfortunate thoughts and feelings about the attractiveness of her former commanding officer. Huh. That actually sounds very much like the kind of mind-reader Dee would be.

Oh God, okay, time to snap out of it. I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes and immediately opening them, remembering that closing my eyes while sitting down will almost certainly end in my falling asleep and I can't afford that. Not yet. "He would, wouldn't he?" I can't help grinning, just a little disbelieving and cynical.

I can't see Dee's face because I'm still staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. But I can hear the half-smile all the way, anyway. "You'd have done a pretty number on him, even without that stun pistol thing."

That makes me snort and look at him. "Fuck, I would. And we both know that immediately after that, I'd have resigned my commission." I would have, that's the thing. So I sober up a little. "Thanks for not letting me make the ultimate ass out of myself."

Dee just shrugs and gestures vaguely towards the Major who's currently negotiating with Control to get some damn reinforcements down here. "Don't thank me. That was entirely him."

Nah, we both know it wasn't but I do admire his loyalty to his boss, even after, you know, being abandoned to handle a damn booby trap alone. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

We're silent, for a while, after that and to stay awake, I make myself concentrate on listening to the Major having it out with Control. "No, I have no idea if they could actually do anything after someone activated the damn room. I was kinda busy shooting them up." Ah. Looks like it's going really well.

It's a little funny because for us, it's a bit of a one-sided conversation since we can only hear the Major. Seems like he's in a slightly heated exchange about whether the Wraith managed to screw something up after Lieutenant Idiot Corps stormed the room or not. My guess is not because they'd have to have configured their equipment to be able to interface reasonably well with the Atlantis hardware before doing anything sneaky that might blow up on us later. And if it had been a blunt force attack, we'd already be feeling the effects. I think we're mostly safe.

I also think one of us – that one being me – really should get up to check whether my hypothesis is correct. But weirdly, when you've had the chance to sit down, even for a few minutes, suddenly your equipment gets a lot heavier and it's nearly impossible to get back up and…

Ha.

Ha.

Goes to show, I really did a need a break. Took me way too long to realize that I don't actually need to get up and go somewhere. I have that damn gene. I can fucking talk to this city. With my head. I've been doing this for an entire year now. Which, okay, is probably the reason why I didn't think of this in the first place. I've been doing this for so long now, it's become second nature, like something you needed a while to learn but are now doing automatically.

I take a deep breath and lean back against the wall again, my eyes closed this time. Okay. Let's just try it. And, alright, I wasn't being precise a moment ago. It's not really talking, it's more like communicating in images and emotions and concepts. It's not like thinking "Hey, can you check for malware?" and the city doing it, it's trying to find the right combination of images and emotions and procedures and then interpreting the information the city sends back.

Usually, I don't have to communicate things more complicated than "Open door", "Get me to the mess hall" or "This is not my preferred water temperature and you fucking know that", so this is a bit more complicated and takes a lot more conscious work. It's also kind of difficult because I'm not even sure what exactly the Wraith could have done so I have to hope that I'm not steering the city's thinking in the wrong direction. So, it takes me longer than I thought it would and… "Maureen? Please tell me you didn't fall asleep."

Dammit, Dee. Not now. I grimace. "I didn't fall asleep. I'm communicating."

"You're what?" Oh great, and now the Major, too.

Don't lash out, that's only gonna start another bickering war and so far, those haven't really ended well. I resist a sigh. "I'm communicating. With the city. Give me another minute and I can get Control off your back."

"Okay, that's too far above my pay grade. Just… do your thing, okay?" I will, sir, don't worry.

Since my concentration has slipped, the city kind of lost patience with me, too, and it's quite an effort to get her to talk to me again. When I have finally convinced her that this time I'm going to listen to her, she finally deigns to tell me her results and wow, fuck, not so fast. Thankfully, she heard that and slows down a little and after another maybe two or three minutes, I finally feel confident having understood most of it.

Alright. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, massage the bride of my nose – communicating with Ancient technology like that, so far out of my usual league, tends to leave me with a headache, and this sadly is one of those instances – and open my eyes, then tap my radio. "Control, this is Reece."

"Reece, this is Control. What do you have for me?" Is it just me or does Control sound just a little too done with me? To be honest, I wouldn't even mind much. It's not like I haven't given them a fair share of trouble, so there.

Anyway, let's not keep them waiting. "Concerning possible damage: city says they tried to blow up a few of our long range sensor arrays and to activate a couple malware routines from here but didn't get far enough for it to do serious harm before Major Moore and Lieutenant Rivers neutralized them."

A short silence, most probably Control relaying the info directly to Dr. Weir and possibly Major Sheppard, too. Then, "Thanks for the heads up, Captain. Has the city contained the rest of the damage?"

"She says she has. I'd get some of the engineers and IT on it, just to be sure, but so far it looks like we got off light." Shit, I can see the Major getting a little excited at me mentioning to get IT on it but since we don't have any interface hardware down here and he, as far as I know, doesn't read Ancient, he's not going to get in on the fun, at least not yet. I almost feel a little sorry for him.

Silence from Control again, then, "Thanks for letting us know, Captain. Please stand by for new assignment until the relief party shows up. Control out."

Well, then, that wasn't so… what is he doing? I look at the Major first, frowning and then to Dee and he just gives me his "You know how he can be" face but honestly, he can't really be about to try his hand at… yep, he totally can. He can't even read that shit. And God, I know I should just keep my trap shut, but before I know, a slightly sarcastic, "I didn't know you could read Ancient, sir," has left my mouth.

He doesn't even look away from the screen, just keeps fumbling around with the controls and shrugs. "I can't. But I can read ones and zeroes, Kid."

Ugh. I roll my eyes and Dee just shakes his head. Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let him figure out himself he'll be of exactly no help and all that but I just can't help telling him, "Sir, all due respect, but I really think the good people of the IT department have everything…"

"We'll be here for at least thirty minutes before our relief gets here, Captain. Might as well do something useful in that time." Oh come on, was that meant as some weird veiled attempt at telling me to get my ass off the ground and do, I don't know, something?

I'm about to tell him but Dee shakes his head again, this time a little more forceful. Oh, fine. "Of course, sir. Suit yourself, sir."

"Snappy, are we, Captain?" He still doesn't look away from screen but I can see the smirk even on his profile, and the most annoying thing about it is that it's not exactly a mocking smirk, more of a friendly, amused one and I hate it when he does that. I can't even be angry at him for something like that. And then, he finally does look away and at me, something like honest benevolence in his face, "Look, just do what I told you and take a break, okay? You earned it, it's fine, the world isn't going to end just because you let yourself relax for a few minutes. Just lean back and do nothing, okay?"

Goddammit. I frown at him and all I get is him rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, sir. Will do, sir."

"Atta Marine," he just murmurs and turns back to his screen and either he's really good at pretending to understand what is happening on there or he actually is going somewhere. I'm not sure what would annoy me more.

Fine. Taking a break, it is.

And because I'm stupid and exhausted and desperately need something to keep me awake, I find myself asking, "Hey… can I ask you something, Dee?"

He doesn't answer immediately and that tells me that he knows what's up and honestly because he can be scary like that. "It's about Laura, isn't it?" Called it!

I nod and avoid looking at him. "Yeah. Are you okay with that?"

Again, he takes his time and this time it's so long that I end up looking at him, just to gauge if he's pissed at me for bringing this up between one battle a possible next. But he doesn't look angry, just… tired, when he says, "Not entirely." I'm about to apologize, rifling my brain for alternative topics when he adds, "She was your friend, Maureen. Just ask."

Oh. Yes. Okay. Alright. Yes. I clear my throat, and ask the first thing coming into my mind. "When… did it happen?"

"Maureen…" Fuck it, you told me to ask you!

"When, Sergeant?"

"About three months after you left." And now I feel like a shitty human being for actually pulling rank on him in a conversation about a dead friend. How does he still put up with all the shitty and stupid officers fate keeps throwing at him? "Rescue mission for a couple Goa'uld victims gone sour."

Okay. I know the next logical question would probably be what exactly happened but something in me absolutely does not want to ask that question. Something in me does not ever want to know how exactly my best friend back at the SGC died, only three months after I went and broke up the team for a career move and, to be honest, also to run away from complicated feelings for my superior officer I never wanted to have to examine even the slightest. I take a deep breath. "What happened to you and… him, afterwards?"

If Dee is confused by me skipping about the most logical questions, he doesn't show it, just keeps answering without missing a beat, saying, "First three months at Eglin that were as much of a clusterfuck as would have been expected and the rest of the year at Area 51," accompanied by a small, somewhat miserable smile. Fuck, that really is crap. I have never been to Eglin AFB but good God, I can imagine just how shitty it most have been after the SGC. And Area 51 isn't exactly known for being a paradise of pleasure, either.

I swallow, feeling even shittier for ever having left. "I…"

"Maureen?" Okay, so not wanting me to apologize. I can respect that. For now.

"What?" I try to smile, soften it all by making it clear that I'm not mad in any way.

Dee just shakes his head and then furtively gestures towards the Major. "Try not to give him crap about it. It nearly did him in."

Oh. I didn't expect him to say something like that. And meaning it. There was no trace of sarcasm or irony in this. Dee meant every word of that, including that second sentence. Whatever happened, Laura's death seriously hurt the Major.

Okay, so that actually shouldn't be so surprising, considering that she was probably his oldest friend, or even closer to a sister than a friend, and you'd have to be a complete sociopath not to be hurt by that. But I guess I just… hadn't even considered that, somehow never associated things like grief and pain with Major Thomas Moore, and quite frankly, that makes me a bit of an ass. He's not an emotionless robot, and he has never been one and I should have known that because dammit, I once met a version of him who lost his two best friends, and a team member he'd had feelings for. That version was a mess who was trying so hard not to let anyone see his pain that he had no energy left for being himself.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, Dee." I so very much hope it didn't sound flippant because I was being serious. I really did make a promise about never giving the Major any crap about whatever happened to Laura. I don't even care if it was somehow his fault or if he thinks it was his fault, I just don't want to add to the hurt and pain it all must have brought both him and Dee. After all is said and done, one is my friend and the other… well, let's just say it's complicated but deliberately wanting to cause him pain is not part of the package.

He nods. "Thank you, Maureen." See, that's what most people don't get about Dee: he's not just some faceless minion, someone without a free will who's somehow chained to the Major by some cruel turn of fate. Dee could have left any day of the time he has spent with the Major – and I just bet that he's thought about it often and hard – and would have done it in a heartbeat if he'd found it necessary. And yet, he's still here. Dee isn't just some quiet extension of the Major, there at his beck and call. For all the denying both of them would level on anyone suggesting so, Simon "Dee" DeLisle and Thomas Moore are friends, and they care about each other and really, am I the only one who finds it ridiculous that the likelihood of one of them having at least once mentioned that is slim to none?

I'm about to actually say that aloud but something in the way Dee looks at me tells at me that this really isn't a good idea. Whatever happened after Laura's death between the two of them, it very much looks like he'd rather not talk about it. Fair enough. "So… any hot Area 51 gossip you'd like to share with me?"

He gives me a dead-pan look. "Seriously?"

I try to give him one of my best dean-pan looks. "I've been awake for the majority of four days, mostly thanks to coffee, stims and being constantly in motion. Right now, I have nothing of that. Something's gotta keep me awake. Might as well be that."

That prompts him to roll his eyes and give me a sigh and one of those tiny, almost invisible grins he reserves for only those people who can see them. "Okay, fine. So, remember Dr. Arakawa, from R&D? Way I heard it…"

Morsberg

I can't believe it had to be me of all people who ended up as the one having to pull Lieutenant Dumb as Fuck off a ledge he definitely wouldn't have recovered from if he'd really had the chance to jump. For the last five minutes, while Moore somehow managed to hash it out with Control how to go on, Rivers did nothing but grumble about all the injustice in the entire universe and a crap load of other Woe Is Me For I Am A Male Marine Who Was Forced To Back Away From A Wook shit, and it's honestly getting annoying as fuck.

So I guess he really had his five minutes to snap out of it, and this is definitely where someone – unfortunately, me – has to step in. I heave a mental sigh and say aloud, "Just let it go already, Lieutenant."

If I get another "Says who?" like Moore did, I'm honestly not liable for any damage to the damn Lieutenant's face, court-martial be damned but something seems to told him that would be a bad idea. Instead I get, "Pretty sure you got no jurisdiction over me."

Ugh, really? "I take it, then, that you have never worked in a NATO environment, Lieutenant."

He snorts. "As if you have. All your people do is…"

"Twelve months of saving German Special Forces, US Army Ranger, Green Berets and Recon Marines lives behind enemy lines deep in Afghanistan. Now you, Lieutenant." I know I should be confident enough not to feel like I have to justify or prove myself to this puppy of a fledgling Marine but I'm just tired of this entire shit show and I'm proud of what I accomplished over in Afghanistan, even though I'll probably never be allowed to actually talk about it openly. Basically, no one outside a small circle of special forces types will ever know what exactly I contributed to their missions but that's okay. Because I know.

Lieutenant Rivers, for his part, is strangely… silent. I raise my eyebrows. "What, no deployment?"

Damn, I can see just how much he wants to wipe that look off my face and give me a piece of his mind. Which makes it extra nice when he finally has to grind out, "Straight to the SGC from Annapolis." Come on. You know what's missing. Be a good Marine, Lieutenant. "Sir." Good boy.

Come on, now, keep that face straight, Stabsarzt. "But you were on an off-world team, right, Lieutenant?"

Oh God, he fucking hates me. This is actually starting to be fun. Fun enough to keep awake for a little more while. This is good. "No, sir."

Holy shit, I think I just found a damn gold mine. "You must have done something there."

He's actually grinding his teeth. Damn, that's too good to be true. "Logistics, sir. I… led a logistics platoon."

Good God, just when I thought this couldn't get any better it turns out that Lieutenant High And Tight here was a goddamn pogue. Holy hell, I don't even know where I pull the strength not to break out laughing from but I actually manage to say, "So… not a combat posting?" with a completely straight face.

"Every. Marine. Is. A Rifleman. Sir." Yeah, tell me something I don't know. I'm this close to tell him but apparently, I really struck a vein here. "Hey, there is nothing wrong with logistics, okay? I can hold myself in a goddamn fight, you've seen that, and…"

Okay, okay, fine. A little sad, I abandon the little thing I just had going on here and get serious. "I know that, Lieutenant. I'm not infantry. Captain Reece over there isn't infantry, either. In fact, she's a linguist. We're all in the same boat. But you know what's the difference between you and us?"

"No, sir. Please enlighten me." Hey, show a little more humility, maybe? She nearly flattened you with her right hook, you idiot.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "We're not ashamed of it. We know we're still good soldiers and we don't feel the need to prove it every two minutes. That's how we managed to survive here for an entire year."

Okay, that and huge amounts of luck. Often enough, the reason why Maureen and I survived was basically that we either weren't there when the shit hit the fan or that we had the good sense to pull out of whatever situation we were in in the right moment. Surviving in Atlantis is, when you think about it, just a simple question of knowing when to hold 'em, knowing when to fold 'em and damn well knowing when to fucking get the hell out of Dodge.

"A linguist, sir?" Oh, that's what he took away from this? "No way in hell, sir. That's not a linguist over there. Linguists don't jump into fights like that."

I can't help giving him the raised eyebrows again. "And you know this… how?"

"My buddy from Annapolis is a linguist. He sits in the Pentagon on his ass all day and then gets to go home at five and hasn't ever fired a gun in anger ever since TBS." He shakes his head disbelieving. "That ain't no linguist over there. No linguist knows her way around a combat environment like that."

Funny. That sounded almost… admiring? "Captain Reece has been on a gate team for a year before she came here. She's been on several off-world missions a week and on security shifts here. That's how you get comfortable on the battlefield with any MOS, Lieutenant."

He visibly swallows. Whoa. "A year on a gate team, sir?"

I nod. "Yep. Major Has Special Forces Written All Over Him over there was her boss."

"I…" Oh no. Now I feel almost sorry for the poor guy. Dammit.

I do sigh now. "You're one lucky Marine, you know that, right? She would have flattened her, if we hadn't intervened."

"I guess she would, sir." See, that's better. "Thanks for saving me from myself, sir."

Huh. Maybe he's not that dumb, after all. "You're welcome, Lieutenant." And I even meant that. Figure that. "And when you're over your inferiority complex for not making it into a combat outfit, you could even learn something here."

"Yes, sir." I'm not sure he still has fully grasped why everything happened the way it happened but then again he's a butter bar barely out of Annapolis and let's all be honest here, everyone at that point in their life would probably have difficulties grasping the entirety of the situation. I just hope he has grasped the most important thing which is that he still has to learn so. Damn. Much. That and the fact that the "wook" – who even comes up with stupid, demeaning shit like that, anyway? – would have made short work of him if we'd left her. That's really something he should never forget.

After that, it's twenty more minutes of everyone just somehow trying to stay awake – a near impossible feat, and I expect a fucking medal for it, goddammit – while Moore keeps swearing at the Ancient computer terminal before our relief team actually, truly appears and succinctly tells us to get the fuck out, they need space to work and I'm considering this day to be the last day I ever saved a scientist's life. I get it, we're all short on sleep, nerves and temper but you fucking wouldn't be here if we hadn't risked our goddamn lives to secure this room?

They're basically just lucky that both Moore and his Sergeant are considerable fresher, more alert and not quite as fucked up as the rest of us which probably saves the entire relief team from being eviscerated by Maureen and me and possibly Rivers, too.

And, okay, Control's orders for me to go back to doing CSAR and the non-medical people on this rag-tag excuse of a team being forced to act as unskilled labor and security escort throughout the city, worked, too. So here we are, ready to set off again when it's Rivers speaking up, summarily avoiding everyone's gaze, "Um… request permission to uh stay behind as security guard for the science team? Sir."

Moore just raises his eyebrows, looking part questioning, part mocking and… then looks at Maureen first, as if, I don't know, asking her permission? I'm starting to get the feeling that whatever the fuck is going on between those two is really damn complicated and that I don't want any part of it.

Maureen in turn just rolls her eyes and… did she just refer to me? Dammit, I didn't sign up for this kind of passing the buck and fuck, you really want my opinion? Fine. I shrug and nod, now being convinced that handling being commanded by anyone in this particular set of people is way above his paygrade and that it would probably be better for everyone involved if he got a bit of time to catch his breath before having to go out there again. I'm not entirely sure guarding Atlantis scientists is going to give him that time but from where I'm standing, that looks way more promising than still having to tag along with a bunch of combat-experienced SGC veterans.

And then, something weird happens. Moore defers to my opinion and, without question or hesitation, tells Rivers, "Permission granted, Lieutenant. Just don't get in their way. They seem kinda… bloodthirsty."

Wow. Huh. What. Okay?

"Yes, sir. Good hunting, sir." Moore just nods, giving the lieutenant a casual two-fingered salute before signaling for the rest of us to follow him.

Only to realize that he has no idea where to go and… "You uh Morsberg, point. Dee, six. Reece, where I can see you. Let's go." The fuck?

Okay, whatever. I'm done questioning anything, and Moore especially. If a field grade tells me to take point and let's go, I take point and go. Back to CSAR it is, then.