A/N:

Caution: Limes ahead.

Chapter 10: Wedding Night

Earth, United States, Montana

A large black Ford Lincoln Navigator drove up to the front gate of a ranch that was nestled in the foothills of the Lewis Range, about 60 miles west of Great Falls. The SUV pulled over to the grassy shoulder just off the narrow dusty dirt road, and a man wearing an official navy-blue USAF military dress uniform and dark sunglasses stepped out of the driver's side of the vehicle. He was carrying an attache case with a chain that was connected to a metal cuff on his wrist.

The USAF officer took in the impressive view of the broad expanse of the Rocky Mountains that could be seen to the west, sweeping from north to south across the entire horizon. He walked up to the gate and opened it, being careful not to touch the electric fence. As he did so he felt something squishy give way under his right dress shoe. He looked down and muttered a curse word as he tried to scrap the cow pie out from under his shoe using one of the stone edgings that lined a well tended gravel walkway that led up to the ranch house.

He walked the 50 yards to the front porch, climbed it, and approached a painted screen door. The inner wooden door was already open. He knocked on the doorframe. "Hello?"

A young boy ran up and asked through the screen door, "Who're you?"

The USAF General bent over and smiled through the mesh screen. "Howdy. I'm here to see your grandpa. Is he in?"

The boy turned and ran back into the house yelling, "Mom! There's an army guy here!"

A short time later a woman wearing an apron opened the screen door. "Oh hello. You must be here to see Dillon. He said you were coming. You can walk around back."

The military officer tipped his cap and said, "Thank you, ma'am". He turned around and proceeded to walk around the ranch house, this time being careful not to step into any more cow pies. Upon reaching the rear he saw a man sitting on the back stoop holding a beer. He was in his early 50s* and had a broad build that was more muscular than stocky, which was unusual for someone of his age. He sported a flattop haircut and was wearing a grey tank-top over his bluejeans and cowboy boots. He spotted the USAF officer approaching but did not bother to stand to greet him.

The USAF officer removed his hat and said, "Colonel Everett?"

The man said without getting up, "That's 'Recently Retired Colonel Everett' to you."

"Of course. Hi, I'm Jack O'Neill, US Air Force. Nice to meet you." O'Neill held out his hand.

Instead of shaking it, Everett bent over and reached into the ice cooler that was next to him to put a beer in the offered hand.

O'Neill gratefully took the beer can as he unbuttoned his USAF jacket and loosened his tie. "Thanks. It's hot." He popped open the brew and drank deeply, then he sat on the stoop next to Everett.

"Least I could do for a flyboy General who drove all the way out here just to see an old Marine. It really wasn't necessary, you know. I told you over the phone I just retired."

O'Neill looked out at the back 40 from the rear stoop. "Wow, what a view."

Everett nodded as he also looked out. "Indian summer. First frost was last week. In a few days that whole field will be covered in red wildflowers. It will be red everywhere as far as the eye can see."

"Yeah, I can see why you decided to retire out here."

Everett sipped his beer as he kept looking out at the amazing view. "This stud ranch has been in my family since my grandpa's time. My old man intended for me run it next, but I wanted to get out of this dirthole as fast as I could, so I ran into town and jumped on a bus to the US Marine Corps recruiting center in Great Falls and signed up when I was 17, lied about my age. My old man didn't talk to me for ten years after that. Now look at me, 36 years later I'm right back here again."

"You running it now?"

"Naw, my daughter Carolyn and her husband do that. When I came back last month they gave me the guest room up on the third floor. I help out on the ranch, hunt, play ball with the twins, life's good."

O'Neill pulled on his brew as they continued to watch the skyline of the Rocky Mountains. "I hear yah. I have a fishing cabin in Minnesota. I never get out there often enough."

Everett decided it was time to get to the point. "Sir, I did my stint, got my pension. I'm spending time with my grandkids now."

"Yeah, I know. Look, I didn't want to ask you to come back either, but everyone I talked to says that you were the go-to guy for difficult extractions. Like what happened in Mogadishu, how your team went in to save those guys. I read the book on the plane on the way out here. That was impressive."

"Forget that dumb book. Sheesh, I never should have talked to that New York Times guy. 'Black Hawk Down', what a stupid title."

"You were a hero, Dillon."

"I was just doing my damn job. Yeah I got a commendation letter signed by the President, big deal. A lot of good men died that day, and what did they get out of it? A casket, a flag triangle, and a widow and kids without a father."

"Dillon, your country needs you again. Everything could hang in the balance. I mean it. It's bigger than you could possibly imagine. You don't need to worry about unwanted publicity this time either, because nobody will ever know."

Everett turned and looked at him. He believed himself to be a good judge of character, and he could see that this Air Force General was not BS-ing him. He had heard of General Jack O'Neill, if only by reputation, the head of the oh-so-mysterious 'Department of Homeworld Security', whatever that was. He pulled on his beer again and sighed, "Tell me situation."

O'Neill dove in. "It's a vital strategic firebase deep in enemy territory. It needs to be defended at all costs until we can send in some critical reinforcements. Ever hear of Dien Bien Phu?"

Everett made a face. "Pfft, that was a total cock-up by the Frogs. They should never have gone in that deep in the first place. Sounds like you flyboys screwed it up too, and now you need us jarheads to go bail your asses out.

"Something like that, yeah."

"So, who was the military idiot who led this expedition?"

"Your pal Marshall Sumner."

"You're [bleeping] me."

"Nope."

That really got Everett's attention. He and Sumner were lifelong friends starting from boot camp in Quantico, where Everett was Sumner's original drill instructor. As a DI he was bemused with Private First Class Marshall Sumner, his oh-so-serious new recruit who spit-polished his boots like mirrors and made his bunk sheet so tight that a quarter coin bounced on it might put a dent in the ceiling with the ricochet.

Everett knew that Sumner was as no-nonsense as they come. He would never, ever, agree to undertake a mission that would waste lives in some futile attempt to hold territory or to engage in some political stunt. Whatever this was, it had real, legitimate, military necessity, and it could very well be as important as O'Neill claimed.

Everett laughed out loud at the thought of rescuing old Tighty Sheets again, "You mean I'd get to bail out Marshall again? The guy still owes me for Kandahar - and he still hasn't paid up yet. Heh, I told him he'd owe me a whole case next time if I ever had to save his ass like that ever again." Everett loved tweaking Sumner because he was such a well known teetotaler.

O'Neill's looked down. "I'm sorry, but he was KIA."

Everett stopped laughing.

He put down his beer and faced O'Neill squarely. "Dammit, why didn't anyone tell me?"

"You know the rules about black ops, Dillon."

"They said that Marsh was in deep somewhere, but.. oh brother. How did it happen?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you. Not unless you're in."

Everett sighed, "Double dammit. Okay, yeah, I'm tempted. I owe it to his wife Marilyn." Everett felt it was the least he could do for the spouse of the man who had once saved his own life in battle.

"But only tempted?"

"Sir, Dien Bien Phu was unwinnable. That's the whole point of studying it, to avoid getting in to that kind of FUBAR situation ever again."

"Well, the analogy isn't perfect this time because we have major relief coming in by air. You'll need to defend the firebase only for four days, not three months."

"Four days to fly in relief? Sir, this is the goddamn 21st century. What kind of airplane are you flying in there, a freakin' dirigible balloon?"

O'Neill opened the locked attache case that was attached to his wrist. "I'll explain everything if you sign these NDAs."

Everett took the offered stack of paper. It was full of densely printed legalese. "Wait, there's got to be at least 100 pages here. What kind of crazy firebase is this?"

"Sign and I'll tell you."

Everett was sitting in the passenger seat of O'Neill's SUV still reading the ultra-classified briefing materials as the pair headed back to Great Falls, where an unmarked Gulfstream G650 private jet was waiting on the tarmac to fly them to Colorado Springs.

O'Neill was rather surprised at how Everett had so calmly accepted the fact of the Stargate Program and the Department of Homeworld Security, which currently managed a theatre of operations that spanned two galaxies. He started to suspect that perhaps Everett might have already had heard rumors about it. He already had one of the highest security clearances possible outside of the SGC.

The newly re-activated Marine Colonel flipped forward through the many pages of the thick packet of material until he reached the section of the briefing with the After Action Report (AAR) regarding Sumner's KIA.

Everett was incredulous as he read it. "Wait, this says here that Sumner was shot by his own second-in-command officer to avoid interrogation? Is that right?"

"That's what it says. I wasn't there."

"I don't believe it. You never do that. Every US soldier is expected to resist interrogation; it's the most basic part of SERE training. Hell, Marsh taught the SERE course at Quantico himself!"

"All I can tell you is that's what the AAR says. Our info is very limited at this point."

"Who was on the review board for writing the AAR?"

"Nobody. The second-in-command wrote it himself."

"Wait, let me get this straight. This guy wrote his *own* AAR? To justify shooting his own CO? Seriously? That's crazy. It's like a guy in a murder case being allowed to be his own judge!"

"It's the best we could do given the circumstances."

"What's his rep in the chain of command?"

"Uh, well, his record isn't exactly 100% perfect at following every order he's given, but.."

"The guy doesn't follow orders and then he shoots his own CO?"

O'Neill kept driving. "You'll have to ask him yourself. Things out there can get pretty, well, complicated."

"I understand." Everett knew how 'complicated' the hell of combat could be. He had first-hand experience dealing with panicky front-line officers yelling orders to shoot outside of the ROE.

He closed the briefing packet and looked at O'Neill. "Just tell me one thing."

"Which is?"

"Sir, I'm 100% in charge of this op, right? Not this jagoff? It's my show?"

"It's your show. Although I'd advise you to listen him."

"Oh I'll listen to him all right, with all the respect he is due."

Atlantis

The wedding ceremony in Weir's office quickly broke up as everyone returned to their respective duties. McKay, Sara, Weir, and Sheppard quickly walked over to Chuck's duty station in the gate room.

McKay reached his station first, and he asked Chuck to put up the long range sensors on the large display panel that was mounted on the wall behind them. He was just about to turn around to look at it when the Guardian gripped his arm to stop him.

He asked, "Sara, what's wrong?"

"I.. I can't look. Can you do it for me?"

"Uh, sure." He turned.

Her thoughts kept repeating over and over like a mantra. McKay could feel the waves of desperation coming from her.

Please be a trio.. please be a trio.. please be a trio..

"I count one.. and two.. and three.. and.."

Oh no, more than three!

".. and that's it. Three hive ships."

She opened her eyes. She turned around to look for herself.

Yes, it was three.

She was sobbing, her tears flowing freely.

McKay grew concerned. "Hey, what's wrong? Is a trio that bad?"

Then she grabbed his face with both hands and gave him a deep kiss.

Sheppard drawled, "You know, I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and take a guess that a trio is actually a good thing, right?"

Sara let her new husband's face go and turned back towards Sheppard. "Oh yes, John. It is."

Weir finally spoke up. "Sara, can you explain to the rest of us what a 'trio' is? Why is it so important?"

"Doctor Weir, it means that we might actually have a chance to survive beyond the end of the week."

Weir felt encouraged. "Really? How so?"

The Guardian explained, "Three hive ships - a trio - indicates that the Wraith are being cautious. Apparently they do not yet realize that we have neither a shield nor any capital ships of our own."

"Yes, keeping the fact hidden that we had no shield and are basically defenseless was our biggest secret."

"It held. They don't know."

Sheppard nodded, "I get it. They're just probing us. Three ships indicates that they're intended to be sacrificial pawns. The Wraith don't care if they lose a few initial ships at the beginning of a major operation."

"Yes, John, but only one, maybe two, of them are actually sacrificial. They will jump in relatively far out from Lantea, then fly in slowly on sublight engines to see what we will do in response. It is indeed a probe of our defenses, and if we succeed in destroying the first ship, the second will attempt to counter whatever defense had defeated the first one. If we then destroy that one also, the third ship will turn around and depart.."

McKay jumped in. ".. so it can report how we defeated the first two, right?"

"Yes, Rodney."

"So we have to stop only two ships."

"Yes. If the Wraith had intended to wage an all-out assault on our position, they would have sent in a duodecim - twelve hive ships - and they would jump in right on top of us with all twelve main cannons blazing down on us simultaneously, their standard fleet tactic against a hardened planetary target. If you had counted 12 ships I would have despaired."

"So how we can stop two ships?"

"I don't know yet. We only have the 36 drones left. I might barely be able to disable one hive ship with 36 although it would be very difficult. Destroying two is impossible. And then, uh.." She swayed slightly.

Weir said, "Sara, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I can keep going." She swayed again, and this time McKay held her up.

Weir was concerned. "Sara, you still need to replenish the reserves that bug took from you. All you've had so far is an IV glucose drip in the infirmary."

As soon as the Guardian awoke on the cot in the infirmary she had ripped off the IV line and had run out as fast as she could to encamp on the North Tower. Then McKay climbed up for his reunion with her, followed by her many confessions, and finally their impromptu wedding. She barely had time to change out of her dirty battle uniform into her sundress just before the ceremony. She hadn't had time to eat anything beyond a bag of peanuts offered by Kurosawa.

"Have you even slept at all?"

McKay spoke for her. "No, she hasn't."

The Guardian pleaded, "I'm okay, really. I can keep going.."

Weir addressed them both. "No, you need to rest. It's getting late and I want you both to have at least eight hours of sleep minimum. I have other things to discuss with Sheppard and Teyla regarding the status of the Alpha Site. We'll pick this up at tomorrow's staff meeting at 09:00.

McKay offered, "I'll take her to her North Tower hideout and come back."

Weir was firm, "No. You both need to rest."

Sheppard chimed in. "Good grief, Rodney, this is your wedding night. Go."

"But.."

"For crying out loud take your wife with you while she can still walk. Don't worry, we'll have some food sent in."

McKay protested, "But I should really help with the invasion defense plan.."

"Rodney, take her out of here. She can barely stand. You two can come back in the morning."

"But I really think.."

Sheppard was firm. "Look, McKay, if you don't escort her to your quarters right how I am going to have two of my Marines pick you both up and carry you down there then have them stand guard outside until morning. Capice?"

McKay finally conceded defeat and took his swaying wife away.

The pair were laying together in McKay's bed in his quarters, flat on their backs, side by side, fully clothed, each of them holding their hands clasped in front of them separately.

Now, a neutral observer might consider it rather strange for a pair of newlyweds to behave this way during their very first time in bed together, but they did not. After all, it was their most comfortable position together.

McKay observed the featureless white ceiling that was above them. "Hmm, the sky is overcast today."

The Guardian was wide awake and feeling much better. She had just finished wolfing down the last of a huge Roast Mastadge brisket that had been sent to their room courtesy of Teyla, a special delivery straight from the communal kitchens on New Athos.

A bottle of Athosian Port was still on the table. The Guardian had looked at it with some curiosity when it had arrived, opening the bottle and sniffing it, then announcing that it contained poison.

McKay had grabbed the bottle and took a whiff and realized it was that damnable Athosian hooch again. In the past that illicit liquor had kept popping up in hidden stashes all over the base. Teyla and Halling had banned it, of course, but someone had kept sneaking it in, bribed no doubt with chocolate and other rare essentials for the hard life on New Athos.

This time Teyla had made an exception and approved one bottle of the concoction to be delivered to the newlyweds, no doubt at Sheppard's request, with him thinking it would probably help the happy couple move things along.

McKay took one whiff and snatched the bottle away from his wife, quickly replacing the cap and telling her sternly that she must never, ever, drink ethanol, knowing full well how disastrous the impairment and loss of judgment by the living superweapon could be. The Guardian responded that she had no intention of drinking such an obvious poison and was grateful that he had no intention of doing it either.

The newlyweds continued to lay on the bed side by side in their clothes while looking up at the overcast 'sky'.

The Guardian was still busy musing about the pending invasion.

"Let's see.. we have 36 drones left, 11 jumpers - the one we returned is damaged - plus your Marines armed with fifty six P90s, twenty two M16s, two .50 caliber armor piercing guns, various pistols, knives.. what else do we have?"

McKay spoke up. "Kit, just relax."

She turned, "Kit?"

"It's a term of endearment. Do you like it? I just made it up."

{ Is that a reference to.. you know..? }

"Yeah."

She frowned. { I don't know if I like that or not. }

"Oh c'mon, Sara, it fits you perfectly. It'll be my secret pet name for you."

"Now you're calling me your pet? All right, now I'm offended."

"No, that's just an expression. A 'pet name' is a term of endearment."

She sighed, { Meredith, if you feel you have to call me that, then fine, but please, please, always keep it hidden. Nobody knows about my tigris felesium engrams. It's my most embarrassing secret. }

"Uh, actually.."

{ Meredith, I'm serious. Whatever other embarrassing secrets about me might tumble out because of this relationship, you have to keep that one absolutely private. I could never live with that one getting out. }

"Why do you think it's so bad?"

{ Don't you see? It reveals that I have a hidden primal side. In Lantean society genetic tampering is already considered beyond the pale, but to have the engrams of an.. an animal.. spliced in to my head? If anyone knew that I could secretly be so.. so.. primal.. it would be considered absolutely shocking, horrid. I'm sure your people would agree. }

"No they wouldn't."

{ Yes they would. I'm just a walking perversion, genetically tampered, potentially wild and uncontrollable.. if other Lanteans had known they would have locked me away in a cage for life, assuming I would be allowed to live at all. }

"It's okay. I don't care."

She turned and tightened her gloved grip on his hand. { I know. You don't give a whit how weird and perverted my existence is, and that means so much to me. }

"Right. I don't. I really don't."

{ I know, my love. For some unfathomable reason you even seem to relish it. I can sense your thrill. It's okay, I won't tell anyone. }

"Uh, it's not.."

{ I know, I know, perversions like that can be thrilling. Don't worry, I'll keep your secret. No one will ever know how perverted you are. }

"Hey, I'm not perverted! And neither are you!"

{ Rodney, be quiet! What if someone hears you! }

"Kit, c'mon, just stop a sec. Look.."

{ Well, obviously for me I have the excuse that I didn't ask for this.. }

"Kit, stop! First, it's fine. Second, they already know."

She let go his of hand and sat up in alarm.

"What?"

"I said, they already know. Sheppard knew right away, and he told Beckett and Weir."

She bent over and grabbed his shoulders. "Rodney, please tell me you are joking."

"Sorry, my love, they know. Sheppard figured it out right after your first mission when you had sniffed out and chased after those Wraith. He said you were behaving just like an apex predator - he even said outright that you were acting like a tiger."

She held a gloved hand to her face in shock. "No.."

"Hey, relax. It's okay. Beckett did a neural scan on your brain the very first day and spotted all the neural hacks and rewiring that they did to your brain."

She cringed and curled herself into a ball on the bed.

He saw her mortified reaction and tried to console her as best he could. "Look, it's okay. C'mere." He sat up and gently pulled her head into his lap as she continued to cringe.

{ I'm so incredibly embarrassed. Rodney, how can I face them? }

He stroked her hair. "Honestly, it's fine. Don't worry about it. They know and Sheppard still thinks the world of you, so does Weir, so does everybody. Okay, there was some initial concern about whether you could control it or not, and you can. And they think it's an asset, not a liability. Weir even said so. She loves that you are a walking Wraith Terminator, and she told everyone how much we need that if we're going to survive this."

He kept petting her hair. "It's part of you, your nature. It's who you are. I love you, the whole package. And I know you won't hurt me no matter how carried away you get. Remember that pic with the cuddle pile? It'll be fine."

She sat up again, even more mortified now. "Oh! That is so embarrassing!"

I got a catgirl.. oh man.. I definitely must be dreaming

She grew angry. "Rodney, I heard that!"

"Huh? Oh? You did?"

Now it was McKay's turn to be embarrassed. "I'm sorry.."

She moved to her original supine position on the bed and re-folded her hands primly and looked up at the ceiling again. { I'm sorry for snapping at you. It's just thought leakage. It happens sometimes. We can just ignore it. }

"Sorry. I can't help it.."

"It's okay." She sighed, "I still think it's pretty perverted though."

"Uh, can we change the topic here?"

"Gladly. Now Rodney, help me out here. How do we take out two hive ships given the city's current resources?"

This was not the kind of topic that McKay was hoping to switch to. "Do we really have to do this now?"

"Yes, Rodney. The Wraith are coming. We only have 7 days."

So much for our wedding night. She gets so obsessed sometimes. Well, I do too, I guess.

"Exactly, Rodney, so help me here."

"Aw crap. This thought leakage stuff is just going to keep happening, right?"

She was feeling churlish now. "Yes. Get used to it."

Aw gawd.. everything will come out. That Christmas party, dad's belt, Jean hating me, and.. oh no you heard that.

{ It's okay. It's just thought leakage. Perfectly normal. }

Great, everything will come out. Was this a mistake? Wait! I didn't mean to think that!

She rolled over and held his hand again. "Stop. You're cycling."

{ Rodney, stop fretting. Relax and quiet your mind. Shush. Remember, we're committed for life. We're locked. Nothing that leaks out of your head will change that now. There is no possible thought that might tumble out of your amazing brain that will push me away from you. }

"We're locked? You sure?"

{ Yes. Uh, we will be, when we move up to the next level.. }

I am not ready for this! What if I hurt him? I'd never forgive myself. His perversion is so strong. He'll hate me!

She did a facepalm. "Ugh. I should be able to control that."

"Hey, it's okay. We're even now."

{ I'm so sorry, Rodney. }

"This is going to just keep on happening between us, isn't it.."

{ No, it's just thought leakage. I'm only doing it because I'm really frazzeled with everything that's happened during the past 36 hours. Normally only young Lantean children suffer thought leakage. Yes, it is very embarrassing. It's like wetting yourself in public. We quickly learn to control it. }

"I see.."

{ Don't worry, I'll teach you some mental exercises so you'll be able to control it like I can do, at least when I'm not so frazzled. We'll practice together. You're a quick study, and I am sure I'll soon have you whipped into shape with a mind that is just as disciplined as mine, like a real Lantean. You'll be fine. }

"You think? I don't see how. Stray thoughts are impossible to stop. It's like elephants."

"Elephants? What do you mean?"

"I mean elephants. Here's a test: Don't think of elephants. I just said the word 'elephants'. Now you're thinking of elephants, see? It's impossible for you to stop thinking about elephants now."

She gave him a passive look. { Nothing. }

"Aw, really?"

{ You're going to eventually need this training. It might be vitally important some day. }

"Why? I mean beyond the embarrassment factor?"

"Rodney, don't think of me as a slinky catgirl with kitty ears and a tail. If you do I'll die. Don't think of it, whatever you do. Remember, I'll die if you think it."

Uh.. dirty gym socks! Baseball! That would be so hot! The prime factors of 457,896,341! Argh, dammit.

"Yeah, we need to work on you. There are exercises that I am going to teach you."

"Exercises.."

{ Mental ones. Oh, and there are other ones specifically for couples who are trying to increase mental intimacy. We can concentrate on those first if you like. }

"Really?"

{ Yes. Endless Lantean books have been written on the subject, mostly aimed at young people. The goal is to reach a level of mental intimacy that finally sublimates into the physical level. In Lantean society this is considered one of the pinnacles of mental achievement, to be able to reach a level of mental discipline that is so high, to mold one's mind so thoroughly, that it perfectly meshes with your mate's mind like two puzzle pieces snapping together. And the Bond is the final crowning achievement; that is why it is so greatly celebrated in our society. }

"But we already seem to have somehow hit that top level, which is now quite embarrassingly obvious.."

{ I know. I don't understand it either. It's totally backwards. Somehow we jumped right to the Bond without passing through the intermediate levels first. We should have been getting mentally intimate first, slowly, gradually, for months, before getting anywhere near the physical level - which we haven't even begun - much less reaching the Bond. }

"Months?"

{ Yes. The future couple sometimes will not realize the mental alignment is even happening until it reaches a certain point. }

"Uh.."

{ It takes hundreds of hours, sometimes thousands, to get there. I don't understand it. }

"I hate to break this to you, but I think we already did that."

{ What? }

"Our endless debates about astrophysics and quantum mechanics."

She sat up. "Huh?"

"Remember all those arguments? We'd bicker all the time, and you'd shove your way past me and move the formulas around on the imaging table, then I'd shove you back and re-arrange the formulas again?"

{ Wait.. }

"Remember on the rooftop when you confessed to me how you felt so relaxed whenever we geeked out together? You even stretched out like a cat."

And it was so hot

She ignored the leak. "Are.. are you saying that all our debates about quantum physics were.. were.." She couldn't say it out loud. { .. a form of foreplay? }

He chuckled, "Hey, why not? For two supernerds like us? I mean, it's possible, right?"

{ I never thought of it like that. My word.. you might be on to something there. All right, I can see it now. But I still don't understand how we leap-frogged right over physical intimacy straight to the Bond though. }

"Oh, I think we were getting physical all right, all that casual touching we were doing without realizing it. Normally if I was standing that close to a pretty girl I'd stammer and freak out. With you I didn't care. I honestly didn't even think of you as a girl during those debates or any other time we worked together closely, like when we worked so hard on the storm problem."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was only afterward when I sat by myself did I realize that was I getting strong feelings for you. Then it scared the hell out of me because I'm such a loser, and that if you knew what I was thinking I was afraid it would push you away and we wouldn't be friends anymore.."

She sighed and looked down. { That's exactly what I was thinking. I didn't think you'd ever want to be with a deviant like me. }

"You did? I never had an inkling."

{ I was thinking that when I was by myself, not when I was with you. I noticed you did get nervous with me a few times. I'm just better at compartmentalizing my thoughts than you, that's all. That is something I'm going to teach you. }

"You will?"

{ I have every confidence in you, my love. }

I'll teach him; this will work. I am so thankful I didn't give in to John

She sat up suddenly and stared at the wall.

He simply said one word: "When?"

She couldn't face him. { The day after I woke up. Oh Meredith, I'm so sorry.. }

He tried to assure her. "Hey, it's just thought leakage, don't worry about it."

{ Meredith, I love you. John means nothing to me. }

"I know, and I believe you. Just tell me the what happened."

{ Well, I had planned to tour the city on my first full day back, and he decided to come along. He brought a picnic basket.. }

McKay was incredulous. "A picnic basket? And you didn't find that just a little bit odd?"

{ Meredith, I didn't know any better! Somehow he managed to fool me about his intentions even with the mind link.. }

She mentally kicked herself. She wasn't planning to reveal the mind link yet.

"What? You linked minds? Kit!"

She pleaded, { I'm sorry! He tricked me! }

"Sorry for snapping, it's okay.. I'm sure you were completely innocent."

Like a minnow against a Great White Shark

McKay was becoming agitated. "Dammit! Argh, I can't believe it. It happened the day after you woke up?" He shook his head, "It's like he is goddamned Captain Kirk!"

She tilted her head. "Captain Kirk? Who is that?" She started to look up the reference on her imager when he gently lowered her arm back down.

"It's just a character in a sci-fi TV show, forget it." He continued to hold her arm as he looked at her gloved hand. He shifted his hand as he inspected her white glove. "You know, I only touched your bare hand once, in the ceremony. It felt so incredibly warm."

{ My high metabolism. I thought the ceremony was beautiful. It says so much about your human culture. }

"There's no seam. How does it come off?"

{ Here, I'll show you. } She turned her hand palm up and pressed on her wrist with her other thumb. A gap appeared between the glove and sleeve and she deftly worked her thumb around the seal and pulled it off. Then she repeated the process with her other glove.

She raised her hand with its long delicate fingers as she turned it around in front of him for his inspection. Her ring glinted on her third finger.

{ Thank you for this. It's so beautiful. }

When he originally offered it to her, he did not have the heart to tell her that it was just a stainless steel joint sleeve for a metal pipe fitting.

{ I will never remove this as long as I live. }

She then proceeded to put her gloves back on and laid back down on the bed in the cloud-watching position, her gloved fingers clasped together primly as she looked up at the ceiling.

She switched to speaking aloud. "Anyway, I want to get back to figuring out how we're going to beat the trio."

"Huh? The trio? Oh yeah."

"Rodney, 36 drones is not enough for even one hive ship. I suppose we could cannibalize the drones in the jumpers.."

McKay clasped his own fingers and looked up. Back to business. "How many drones do we have left total, including the jumpers?"

"I checked. Three jumpers still have the full compliment of six, three in each pod. There are only five others in the rest."

"So 59 total. How many do you need to take out a hive ship?"

"Fewer than you think. In my VR simulation runs I managed to kill one with only 50, carefully targeted, with no dart screen to stop me. But that was the exception. The standard for an elite operator is 100-200. So at best we might get one if we're really lucky."

"Only 50? Wow, those drones are tougher than I thought."

"Yes. They are designed specifically to kill Wraith ships. The hulls of Wraith ships are organic, made of a reinforced calcium lattice, not dissimilar to human bone but much stronger, and also much, much thicker. Our drones are constructed of a naquadah and molybdenum alloy that can pierce 50mm of heavy armor plating or over two meters of Wraith hull material. We send them in sequence hitting the same point repeatedly, so they are very effective."

"They're tough little buggers."

"Oh yes. It's a pity your people had wasted so many on Earth against the Goa'uld mothership. According to the SGC report you had fired almost all of the drones stored in our Antarctic defense station, over 2000, all at once. Such a colossal waste."

"Well, we didn't know what we were doing at the time."

"Rodney, those drones are irreplaceable. The drone manufacturing facility was destroyed early in the war. There is no way to manufacture any more now."

"So what happens after they are fired?"

"The lead ones are always destroyed immediately. The follow-ons drill deep inside, and eventually the rest just puncture through the ship and fly out the back. A skilled operator will cause them to re-swarm and dive again and again until they run out of power."

"And then?"

"They are expended."

"No way to re-use them, huh?"

"Not feasible. They travel at such high speeds that they end up flying off into deep space, essentially lost." She sighed, "Only 59 left. There is so much junk up there it will be hard to target the hive ship even if we had more."

"Naw, the debris is way down now. After 10,000 years all that stuff decayed their orbits and burned up in the atmosphere, or went into the sun, or got ejected out of the system."

"Rodney, the amount of wreckage was massive. That final battle destroyed over two dozen hive ships and countless Wraith cruisers. We lost all of our remaining battleships, our last two defense platforms, everything. All of our space capability was destroyed. We fired thousands and thousands and thousands of drones from the city and from our battleships. Our weapon defense platforms sliced dozens of Wraith ships in half. The wreckage was colossal. It's a total mess up there."

"No, it's all been swept up by now. Like I said, the orbits either decayed or got kicked out to deep space long ago. The rest settled into the Lagrangian points."

"The Lagrangian points? I forgot about those."

The Lagrangian points were the five natural locations in space between an orbiting satellite and its parent body where asteroids and other debris tended to collect. Essentially they were low-energy 'depressions' in space.

In this case the five Lagrangian, or L points, surrounded Lantea in its orbit around its sun. The first point, L1, is the most intuitive to understand, being the point between Lantea and its sun where the gravity of the two bodies cancelled each other out, about 1.5 million kilometers inward from Lantea. The second, L2, was located on the opposite side of Lantea, 1.5 million farther out, where Lantea's gravity cancelled out the higher orbit of a given object. It was the most strategic point from a military perspective, the 'high ground' above the planet.

L3 was on the far side of the side of the sun and was useless militarily, while L4 and L5 were co-located along the same orbit as Lantea, about one third of the way ahead and one third of the way behind the position of the planet. This was the location of the so-called 'Trojan' asteroids that tended to collect in those points. Lantea had four weapons platforms at L1, L2, L4, and L5.

McKay sighed, "Man, those Lagrangian points have to be huge junkyards by now."

The Guardian closed her eyes as she imagined it. "Yes, the final battles were a carnage of destruction. We destroyed over 24 hive ships, losing our last 8 battleships on our side. After 10,000 years a lot of remaining debris is still out there."

McKay sat up. "Thousands of drones were floating around the system, all dead.."

The Guardian's eyes popped open. ".. but many were still fully intact.."

".. just simply out of power.. "

She sat up and she grabbed him. ".. until after 10,000 years they had slowed down .."

He grabbed her right back. ".. and drifted into the Lagrangian points."

"Ita! Ita!" She jumped on the bed. "We can try to salvage them from the Lagrangian points, collect as many as we can, sift through and find the ones with minimal damage or that just have no power, then recharge them back in their bays. There are thousands of them!"

{ Oh Meredith. }

She threw him down on the bed, straddling him, pinning him flat on his back using her thighs and her hips.

{ Meredith, I love you so much. }

He smiled underneath her. "Wanna take your gloves off now?"

She quickly did.

He just smiled. "Kit, what am I thinking now?"

{ Meredith, oh.. are all humans like this? }

{ Heh, pretty much. We humans all have our primal side. }

She remembered the surreptitious looks that she had sometimes felt in the mess hall, along with the occasional green-tinged feelings of lust that had forced their way past her limiter sometimes when she walked by a table full of young men.

{ And human women can feel this way too? The way I'm feeling now? }

{ Yeah, I think. I'm guessing you Lanteans all feel it at this point; you just suppress it better than we do with all your mental discipline stuff. }

She was breathing heavily. { Meredith, I.. }

{ Let go. }

"But I might hurt you.."

"No you won't."

"My animal side.."

"No, it's your human side. It's not your cat, it's you. They wouldn't program this into your genetics."

She sat up straight and lectured him. "Rodney, my genetics are 100% pure Lantean, a perfect selection of genes with no negative recessive traits or genetic defects whatsoever. The tigris engrams were simply implanted surgically."

"Oh. Still, there's no reason to include it. This is you."

She nodded as she allowed her feelings to well up from deep within herself and wash over her mind. She pushed him down again on the bed with her hips.

My Rodney

Then he realized something. "Crap, I forgot protection."

"Protection?"

He explained it mentally.

She tightened her straddle on him, { It's not a problem. I'm a pre-Ascendant, remember? }

"You mean.."

{ I can't get pregnant unless I want to. }

"Oh wow.."

{ Meredith, sit up. I want to see you. } He did.

{ Raise your arms. } He did.

She lifted his blue t-shirt up over him, pulling it over his head.

Her eyes were like saucers.

She was pointing at something. At first he thought it was behind him.

He turned and looked behind himself. "Huh? Is something back there?"

She kept pointing.

He turned back to her and asked, "Kit, what is it?"

"You!"

She was pointing at him.

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you!"

"What?"

"That!" She was pointing at his chest.

"Huh?"

"Fur!"

"Where?"

"There!"

He looked down at his chest.

"Yeah, so?"

"Furry!"

"Oh, I see. Sorry about that. I got a lot of chest hair. I didn't realize it bothered you so much. I guess I can shave it off."

"No!"

"No?"

"Fur!"

"So..?"

"You're a secret animal!"

"Huh?"

"Just like me!"

She knocked him over, rubbing her cheek on his chest. "Oh, it smells so.. so primal.. so animal.."

She pulled back, her face shining at him. { Don't worry, I'll never reveal your secret. }

"Kit.."

She pinned him down again.

{ Meredith, I.. I don't know if I can control this much longer.. }

He chuckled, "Go for it."

{ Are you sure? }

He gave his mental consent. Her breathing quickened until she was panting.

{ Meredith, you're.. you're an animal.. }

She reached for the hidden tab under her garment and pulled it down to reveal alabaster skin.

{ .. just like me! }

She pounced.

The next morning McKay and the Guardian explained their plan to Sheppard and Weir.

The Guardian was finishing up. ".. and there are magnetic grapples and nets down in sublevel 6 that we can use. We assign all of your ATA-capable pilots to fly all the working jumpers to salvage as many dead drones from the Lagrangian points as we can, then recharge them in their bays using the naquadah generators. What do you think?"

McKay was grinning. "I can't take 100% credit for this. It was a team effort."

Weir was amazed. "This is incredible, to think that there might be thousands of salvageable drones. You're right, we might actually live through this."

Sheppard nodded, "That's a heckuva plan. I'll call in our ATA pilots and get Grodin's team to bring up the grapples and nets. But still.."

McKay said, "Hmm?"

Sheppard was shaking his head. "McKay, that's all you two did last night?"

The Guardian protested, "But John, this is important.."

Sheppard ignored her as he addressed McKay. "Dang it McKay, do you know how hard it was for Teyla and me to get that roasted Mastadge and that bottle of port on such short notice? I specifically ordered you to take care of your wife and give her a proper wedding night!"

The Guardian said brightly, "John, coming up with the plan *was* our wedding night. The resulting sexual encounter was incredible."

{ Kit, stop! Too much information! }

{ It is? }

{ Yes! }

{ Oh, that's right, Laura warned me about oversharing mating information with third parties. I forgot. I'm sorry.. }

McKay tried to smile weakly.

Sheppard finally said dryly, "Yep, you two are freaks." He turned and slapped McKay on the back. "C'mon, let's go do this."

They all left together.

* According to the Stargate Wikia website, Colonel Dillon Everett was born in July, 1951. The siege took place in 2005, which would make him about 54 at the time.