Chapter 8: With Teeth

.oOo.

The next day when Gwen hadn't shown for lunch, Michael did not take it personally.

Maybe she's just busy, he assumed confidently. Yesterday, after she explained what a lemon was, they moved onto discussing music. He had watched as she began to slowly relax. Her smile grew when they found themselves agreeing on what they liked about certain songs.

But now that it was dinner he wished for some company, besides his two constant shadows. Michael had given up when it came to talking casually with them. At first he tried at least a couple of times to start an idle conversation. But it didn't take him long to figure out they wished to maintain an professional distance from him. They were polite, answered any questions he had efficiently but would only really talk quietly to one another. Whenever a new guard was appointed now, Michael no longer bothered trying.

Resigning himself to another meal alone, he decided to at least stick with what he liked. The new familiar brought him a minor comfort and experimentation could wait till breakfast.

He jumped a bit in surprise at hearing Gwen's voice, "I'll take some steamed snow peas and... I'll try that." He wondered how she had managed to get so close to him before he noticed as she pointed at what looked to be some kind of broiled fish native to the Lantean sea.

"How did you do that?"

"What, sneak up on you?" she chuckled and grabbed a few slices of lemons and tartar sauce before answering. "Simple, I had two older siblings to practice on. I liked to tag along and they didn't always appreciate that-especially my sister Josephine. Her and the oldest, my brother Edgar would try to sneak out to parties and..." Catching herself rambling and about home Gwen finished with. "Well plus, you were too busy fussing with getting some ketchup out of that nearly empty dispenser."

As they headed for a table Michael protested but gently, "I was not having that much trouble with it."

"Ah-ha right, you looked ready to pick it up and throw it across the room after it splattered all over your shirt," Gwen shot back when they sat down across from each other. Ignoring Michael's halfhearted glower, Gwen began eating and muttered, "Not that anyone would blame you. Those things can be rather frustrating." It wasn't until she was half done with her meal when she started up again with, "Do you have any siblings?"

"I don't think so. I'm sure they would have mentioned them, if I did. You have two?"

"Three, the baby of the family is Russell." She corrected and explained the order, "First it's Edgar, then Josephine, then me and then Russ."

To her distant and melancholy stare Michael commented, "You miss them."

"Sometimes," Gwen agreed and tossed the comment back to him. "What about you? Miss anybody?"

Michael looked at her for the longest time. Watched her blush and start to focus on her meal. Slowly he shook his head. "Not now." When she looked up he was pleased by her cheeks growing pinker but added, "That would require me to remember them. I look at the photo of my parents and... I feel nothing."

"So not even them?"

"No," He said quietly and noted the way she paled.

Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something more about it but then she denied herself with a shake of the head. Quickly Gwen turned the subject to a new heading. "Have they tried any therapies to help trigger your memory yet?"

"Dr. Heightmeyer asks me questions," Michael mumbled distractedly. Seeing her upset, he had busied himself with starting on his third hotdog to give her a moment of privacy, so that she could collect herself.

"Just questions?"

He didn't see her worried look nor did he seem to hear her question as he chewed. About to take another bite he stopped. Scrutinizing the exposed end he declared, "I really like these. But what are they made of?"

Yesterday Gwen had already told him what they were called, at the time he had seemed satisfied with just knowing that but for his sake she didn't want to tell him more. "Meat," she stated. Started eating again and hoped he would let the topic go. No such luck.

"What kind?"

"Depends, most are made of a mix of pork and beef-sometimes turkey."

"What kind is this?"

She humored him, bent over, gave it a sniff and guessed, "Probably beef and pork? It's hard to tell, since they grind up the parts."

Michael's brows rose not in concern by sheer curiosity. "Parts? What kind of parts?"

Gwen internally winced at her slip of the tongue. "Honestly, I'm not sure." She took the last bite of her fish and thought, And honestly I wouldn't want to have anything I've heard, confirmed.

"Why don't you? Haven't you ever had one?"

When he looked about to offer, Gwen put up her hands and declared quickly, "Yes I've had them."

Taking her rejection into account he reasoned, "Then is it because you don't like them?"

"No, I like them."

"But you don't know what kind of parts they use and from what animal?"

Slowly Gwen replied, "Nope."

"But," He paused. A bit confused he slowly voiced, "If you like something wouldn't you want to know more about it?"

On a little sigh Gwen answered, "Sometimes... ignorance is bliss, Michael."

Pursing his lips, he furrowed his brows at the item in question. "Are you sure this isn't made of dog meat?"

"No," she pressed her lips together. But it did not take long before she couldn't stop her shoulders from shaking in restrained laughter.

Even though he gave her a smile in good humor, his eyes narrowed slyly. "Gwen, why am I finding you suddenly very hard to believe?"

Struggling for control, she reassured between chuckles, "It's not made of dog. Trust me."

He didn't look about to. "Well then why call it a hot-"

"I don't know that either," Gwen interrupted him and took a deep breath. Today like a kid, he seemed so full of questions. Even though the rapid fire of them was a bit grating to her sometimes, it was also nice. He was talking. More importantly he was interacting and opening up. Something he did not do too much of with others at least so she heard a few colleagues mention.

Attempting to bring him back to the topic she had started earlier, she asked again, "May I ask what kind of questions?" At his blank look, she elaborated. "You were saying before, Dr. Heightmeyer asks you questions. Like what?"

Michael just shrugged and muttered, "Rather vague ones, I guess. Look, I don't want to think about it now."

"Okay," Gwen backed off and grew silent. Watching him eat, she wondered. Why Dr. Heightmeyer was dragging her feet with him? Then again, taking note of the sudden intensity of how Michael focused on chewing Gwen thought, Perhaps the good doctor wasn't the one dragging them.

"You are upset."

His statement snapped her from mentally wandering off too far. Glancing at her watch, confirmed they had just sat there for the last couple of minutes saying nothing to one another. She gave his now shredded paper napkin a pointed look. Slowly shaking her head, Gwen met his guarded eyes and disagreed, "Not really but maybe you are." When he wrapped his arms around himself and said nothing she asked, "Wanna share why?"

"You know."

Gwen leaned back and shook her head, "Nothing specific Michael." Putting up her feet on the chair next to his, she crossed them and continued. "I want to understand but I'm not a mind reader."

He did not say anything for the longest time. Just sat there stewing till Gwen finally pressed, "Just say what you're thinking. Right now, whatever you want. Don't censor yourself. Swear if you have to. These ears here are certainly not-"

"I don't want to! I don't like this." He paused and then muttered, "Dammit." Reluctant as if he was not use to using the word but then the reluctance had stopped there. Once started, the words poured out of him, increasingly louder. "I want answers and all they do, is ask me for them. Always questions, always the same ones! How do I feel? What am I thinking about? Why don't they just tell me?"

It didn't scare her. His anger was justified but hiding something but then anger always did. Sitting back up Gwen asked, "What do you think they're not saying?"

His expression became pained. The shield he had raised crumbled as his voice grew soft, "I don't know... Something bad." Not elaborating further he just closed his eyes and rubbed them.

If the two guards, several feet away, hadn't taken notice before, they had taken it now. When they started to edge closer, Gwen waved them off. They stopped but still concerned one made the call for orders. She tried to ignore them, got up and took the chair next to Michael.

Not sure what to do or say next. Eventually, she decided on action first. She carefully rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a small and comforting squeeze. A swallow did little to ease the lump in her throat. Deciding it was wiser to let him do the talking, she prodded gently, "Please tell me."

Stareing down at nothing he admitted very quietly. "I get the feeling... It's me. To them, I'm something bad. Maybe they're right. I get these feelings." He wrapped his arms tighter around himself. His face became pained as the next words came out broken. "I want to... A part of me wants to... But another doesn't know if it's... I don't know!"

Gwen without thinking leaned over and hugged him. Although stiff in her arms, Michael did not fight it. Absently she wondered if he was even registering what she was doing. Over his shoulder Gwen spotted the guards. They had not moved. One was still watched with his brows raised in disbelief while the other talked into his head set. She glared at them and thought, Back the hell off!

To that at least the one which just stood there dropped his eyes. The other continued to report quietly but was only glancing at them.

As Gwen held Michael, she worried about what was going to happen next. Eyeing the entrances she expected to see Dr. Beckett or Dr. Heightmeyer running in at any moment. Instead John came but he slipped in so not to draw Michael's attention.

Approaching the guards he began to talk quietly with them. Filled in John looked across the room and their eyes met. With mouth tight, hesitantly John took a step closer but stopped. She watched the debate play out in his expressions over what to do. Thinking back to her lunch from yesterday with Michael, she wondered if John, eating a few tables from them was more than just a coincidence? Now seeing the resigned concern in the man's eyes Gwen decided it was not.

A trembling started and Gwen's attention immediately turned from John back to Michael. Rubbing his back in soothing slow circles she bought herself some more time. Anxious to say something but concerned it would come off all wrong or unhelpful. Choosing her words carefully she kept it simple. "You're good, Michael. Nobody is really bad, it's what you do that counts. And-"

His voice came thick and tight, "Then why do I get that feeling from them?"

Giving the question some thought first, she took her time to answer it. "It's only worry. You've been through a lot. They care about you. We all do. They just want to help you and you can't hold it against them, for also wanting to protect themselves and others in the process."

"What about you?"

"Well somebody's got to make the first step in -"

"No, I mean..."

Squeezing him tighter she whispered, "I care."

Michael didn't say anything for a long time. When he stopped shaking he asked, "What are you doing?"

Carefully Gwen loosened her arms. So if he wanted to, he could pull away. When he did not, she tightened them again before finally replying, "I'm showing you."

"That you care."

She nodded even though he hadn't asked her a question. Feeling her conformation he warily loosened his arms from around himself and to the guards and John's surprise he put them woodenly around her. As if holding someone like this was new to him or he was too caught up in inner turmoil to properly respond just yet. But then his arms started to relax. Finally, squeezing her back he expelled the deep breath he was holding.

When he seemed completely calmed, Gwen pulled away and asked, "Still hungry?" Grimacing at the untouched chips on his plate, Michael shook his head. When she rose, she extended her hand and said, "Come on."

Staring at her hand he asked, "Where are we going?"

"For a walk," Gwen answered, glanced behind them and wasn't surprised to see the guards following at several paces. Michael spotted them too and frowned. Not seeing John, Gwen guessed he found the minor crisis over with and moved onto more important matters. Gwen put to analyzing why John had come instead of Dr. Beckett or Dr. Heightmeyer for later.

As they walked Michael became distracted with thoughts. Impulsively, she took the advantage to give him a playful push on the shoulder for attention. It barely budged him. His balance was good but his reaction was bad.

Automatically Michael grabbed her wrist. Not hard, but firmly enough to bring them to a stop. Although a bit stunned, Gwen tried to keep a bemused smile on her face.

It took moment to register her playful expression and another to realize that she was just teasing. He dropped her arm quickly. Then with a grin, he attempted to give her a gentle experimental push back. The movement in the corner of his eye had it fading.

Not noticing, Gwen side stepped him and chuckled, "Too slow." It died away when she followed Michael's line of sight.

The guards were not amused. Each had rested a hand on their stun weapons. Michael and Gwen glanced back and forth from each other to them, uncertain what to do till Gwen gave a shrug to the what seemed a overreaction.

"Hey," she called and looped arms with Michael to start them walking again. "Just ignore them." She decided, looked over her shoulder between them and stuck out her tongue quickly at the two. Michael watched how they did not react. Turning to him, she smirked. "See, no sense of humor. It's like they're not really there."

.oOo.

Michael appreciated the effort to lighten the mood. But he still could only manage to give her a nervous smile. But when Gwen kept his arm hooked with hers, Michael started to not think about the other two so much. Instead as they walked he tried to focus on her.

Noting the sun was about to set Gwen suggested, "How about I show you the best view this place has?"

It took them a little while to get there. Yet she never let go of his arm. As they passed others she seemed to know, she gave them a wave or a hello. One stopped and politely introduced herself.

"Miko is very kind," Gwen explained after her friend continued on her way. Michael did not know what to say, so he kept quiet as they entered a transporter. Hitting a location on the display Gwen whispered in his ear, "I just hope Dr. McKay will appreciate her more in the future."

Before the doors slid shut Michael asked, "He doesn't now?"

Yet after they arrived and the doors reopened, Gwen did not answer his question. Instead she put a finger to her lips. Only when they had put some distance between themselves and the guards did Gwen finally admit, "Yes but not in the way she would prefer." Giving his arm a little pull to bend close Gwen whispered in Michael's ear. "Plus I heard he's seeing someone but I don't know how serious it is. Miko doesn't bring it up and since she doesn't I'm not going to with her."

Michael's brows furrowed at the word, "Seeing?"

"You know, dating... Courtship... Calling-"

"Oh..." Michael turned to Gwen's ear and inquired softly, "Miko wishes Dr. McKay to court her. She wishes to be his mate?"

He felt her body tense to that word and she turned her head and they found their faces inches apart. "You," she swallowed. "You could put it that way, I guess. As for it being a long term bases? I don't think she's planned that far ahead. However on second thought..." Gwen trailed off as Miko's long term goal in reducing Rodney's sugar consumption came to mind.

They walked together in silence before Michael decided to ask her more about courtship. That and take the opportunity to bend his head down closer to hers again to once more whisper in her ear. However they finally reached the highest and farthest balcony from the main tower in Atlantis. And much to Michael's dismay, she broke away from him in a rush to get outside. But looking back, he drew comfort that at least the guards were giving them some space. They stayed on the inside of the opened stained glass paneled thresholds.

Leaning on the railing she jerked her chin to the colorful view. "Well, what do you think?"

He obliged her but really didn't see the point of looking at the sky. At his bored look she explained, "Our first form of visual entertainment."

"Oh," he commented but really did not understand where she was going with the subject.

She did not seem to notice and went on to say, "Yep it was that and perhaps watching things burn. Simple thing to do but it's nice, to just do nothing. To take some time to just watch a sunset. It clears the mind or helps you think, unlike movies and television. What kind of things do you like to watch?"

When he turned to her, just stared and said nothing, she prodded, "Action, horror, comedy, drama...?" Trailing off she noticed he was still watching her. He wasn't smiling but she could see the playful answer in his eyes as they traveled down her slowly.

Feeling another blush coming on she blurted out, "Oh... Never mind." Nervously she tucked away a black lock behind an ear that had been tickling the corner of her lip. Waving her own question away she turned to look back out at the watery horizon.

Mimicking her, Michael leaned on the railing closely next to her. They stood shoulder to shoulder. From the corner of his eye he watched the gentle breeze mess up her hair. He tried not to laugh, when it brushed strands of it over her nose causing her to make peculiar faces and fuss with it more.

Although reluctant to give it up Michael reached into his pocket, "Here."

Gwen holding her hair turned to see what he held out. "That looks like-"

"It is," Michael said simply, still holding out the black elastic hair band with a bit of red on it for her.

When she took it from him, her eyes narrowed but not angrily, "You knew what this was?"

"Not a first. Not until I saw you wearing one yesterday."

"You kept it? Why didn't you return this with my iPod?"

He kept his face blank answering, "You didn't seem to miss it."

In understanding, Gwen gave a small chuckle at his odd humor and tried to look busy with applying the band to her hair. He found, for some reason, her flustered state amusing. Grinning, Michael turned away too and looked at the sky.

It was then when it finally struck him. Finding it odd how the molten orange fading somehow into a whispery pink. The edges of clouds by the sun were a burning gold. So bright that when he closed his eyes he could still see them. Dabs of bright red and powdery blue seemed to be smeared between the vaster strokes. As an inky indigo slowly bled them all away. About to dye the sky in blackness as hard and cold pinpoints started to poke and wink through.

After so long of a silence, quietly she broke it with, "Isn't it amazing that we are here?"

Although he didn't like the situation he found himself in, he agreed because he was at the moment with her. "Yes, it is."

"Growing up I thought, we'll be lucky in our lifetime to see a Moon base-maybe one on Mars too. But not this... This being here so far away from home. It's a little scary but so amazing-and aliens I never thought I'd get a straight answer about that in my life time. Although I don't think my brothers would care to know what kind we have encountered so far. If they did, they wouldn't let me leave the house."

A little confused by her comment he asked. "On Earth, not everyone knows we are here? They all don't know about the Wraith?"

Gwen laughed, "Back home those who believe in aliens are considered a bit crazy. Sometimes I think, it's so stupid they keep something like that a secret from the majority of the population, you know? If they only knew about the dangers out there-the truth, maybe there would be less war and less suffering."

"But like you said, perhaps ignorance is bliss," he said and they shared a smile. Looking back at the city he wondered aloud, "Does your family know you are here? Does mine?"

"No, they think I'm stationed in Antarctica. I don't know what you were told to tell your family."

Michael gave what she mentioned earlier thought and asked, "What do you think about the Wraith?"

"They need to eat. I just wish they'd find something else besides us. More importantly what would they do if we were not here?"

"Starve... I'm guessing," Michael delivered deadpan but earned another chuckle from her.

He felt her shiver because at some point she had once again settled down next to him again. The air started to chill and now without realizing she had moved closer, seeking warmth. Through his arm, he felt hers radiate and warm him back. The wind had also picked up. Taking a deep breath a pleasant spiciness and something else filled his nostrils.

"You smell like a cookie I have tried," He commented quietly and turned to her. He watched in the moonlight her face flush and turn to his.

Inches apart, she gave him a little smile and whispered, "Must have been a ginger snap then. The fragrance was a welcoming gift from the Athosians. It smells a lot like ginger and reminds me of home. Do you like it?"

At her shy smile and blush his mind went curiously blank. Relaxed before, a growing urgency within, now confused him. Clenching the railing hard, Michael pushed away the urge to start running as unexpected sensations of being trapped and betrayed washed over him.

Feeling his body grow tense Gwen inquired softly, "Are you okay?"

Broken and vague moments flashed in his mind. He was running through trees and brush in pursuit, wanting to intercept someone who was trying to get away as well. Michael shook his head, rubbed his suddenly sore cheek bones and swallowed. He heard the activation of the StarGate, a gate address, calling for someone to hurry and found it odd that the only other person there was Teyla slowly walking towards him. Then feeling a blast from a wraith stunner hit him from behind.

"Michael?" she asked with worry in her voice and placed a soothing hand over his, another on his shoulder blade.

Breathing through his mouth Michael managed to push the unpleasant mental images away. Her touch was calming but it was awhile of staring at the stars before he trusted himself to say evenly, "Yes I'm fine. But there's so much about this place I do not understand. So much of my life here and on Earth, I do not remember. It bothers me."

"Well," Gwen propped her chin on a hand. With her elbow still on the rail, she leaned and put a little distance between them. "Everything is new again. Discovery has a certain fun about it. What's something you tried that you really liked? And please... Don't say hot dogs."

Part of him wanted to see her squirm again. He wanted to draw in at least as close as they had been before. But instead of saying ginger snaps or hot dogs he moved a few steps away and decided on, "Lemonade. I tried it when you told me that it's something you can drink."

Gwen beamed and remembering what she had told him, she couldn't help to ask, "What else did you try?"

"A lemon – the fruit used to make the drink. I didn't like it and I understand the expression now. Still I'd rather have the fun as you put it, into discovering a memory or two."

"So they still haven't given you any exercises to try."

"Teyla has tried. When she brought me to my quarters, she showed and explained to me what some of my possessions were."

"Oh Teyla?" Gwen commented and hoped the tone of it came off neutral. Hearing of Michael and Teyla's sparing sessions together, Gwen hated the small twinge of envy it gave. Partially it was from her own desire to be a better fighter. And the other was from the rumor of a scuffle that had erupted between Ronan and Michael during the course of one of them. Gwen spent more time then she cared to admit wondering if Teyla was the cause of tension between the two men.

Shaking off the theory, Gwen suggested. "Would you like to try another method, to help you remember something?"

"Like what?"

"It's rather easy actually. No harder than using your senses of sight and touch." She turned away from the railing. Still leaning on it she added, "In fact you were doing it earlier. You just smell things." When he gave a blank look she could not help the small laugh. "I'm sorry but I'm serious and you can do it all by yourself whenever you want. You see, certain scents can trigger memories. At least that was what I remember reading somewhere. During college I think." Looking at her watch, she flinched at the time.

"You need to go?"

"Yeah bedtime," She confirmed but took a hold of his arm again. "Walk me to my quarters?"

Catching on to her reasoning, of wanting to spend more time together, he smiled and said, "Very well if you insist." Although it was late she maintained the same slow pace they had taken before. Michael kept alert to his surroundings. Wanting to remember where her quarters were located and hoping it wouldn't be long when he could without escorts go to her. He took careful note of the distances, what location she pressed in the transport and subtle landmarks in the Ancient architecture till they reached her door.

Opening it Gwen asked, wanting to delay their goodbyes. "Would you care to come in for a little bit?"

Michael took a step inside and found the space like his. It was tidy except for the unmade bed. There was order but with more clutter. Cut out images of her family and friends hung in a large mural on the wall. A book was at her bedside table. More were stacked, along with what looked like her work upon her desktop.

When he looked closer at the images of her family, she pointed each one out and told him their names and how they were related to her.

Finishing, Gwen turned to him and pulled the band from her hair. Watching her blue-black hair fall over her shoulders, he took another step towards her but felt a tap at his. Frowning, Michael glanced to the guard.

The man reminded simply, "Dr. Beckett, Sir."

"Give us a minute will you?" Gwen asked, plucked her iPod from her desk. "All charged up, enjoy."

"Thanks," Michael grinned and put it into his pocket. When she took her hands in his, Michael gave a confused frown. In one of them he felt the hair band and without a word she urged him to take it back. Confused he stared at her and trembled as her finger tips brushed his inner palms in the transfer. All he could manage was, "But why?"

Gwen only smiled and giving his hands a squeeze she swung them a little. "Keep it," she whispered and added, "I might need it again someday." Then giving the guards each a resigned look, she reluctantly let Michael go.

.oOo.